Donations

Many many people have now donated to the cause and I am truly grateful to every one of them.  My intention was, where I could, to thank each donor personally, but given how crazy organising this got in the last couple of weeks before leaving and the fact that for some people I don't have contact details I realise lots of people have donated and not heard from me. If that's the case then, "Thank you!"

We've just passed 4,000 pounds donated, which with the tax rebate in the UK and the 1,300 Euros my company, Deloitte, are donating means we're very close to, if not over 6,000 pounds.  Wow.

This money will make a huge difference to the National Amyloidosis Centre in their search for a cure.  The hope remains that in a few years time a patient will be told they have amyloidosis, but, unlike now, that they have no need to worry, as the disease is simply a treatable nuisance. Each donation brings that day closer.

Here in Spain I see the donations coming in on the Blackberry and the effect each one has is incredible. Blisters disappear, the next climb flattens out, and the 10 miles to day's end turns into a stroll round the block.

So, thank you.

As the path wends its way into Sarria it passes through thick tangled forest, massive trees line the path and the light is dim, having to pass through many layers of broad leaves. The air is cool (although admittedly this could be because I arrived very late, well into evening, but I like to think it was simply the forest) and the outside world seems far distant, despite being only a few hundred yards away.

These trees are true natives, making up  one of the remaining stands of the forests that once stretched without break across the Iberian peninsula. 

Whilst much of Spain is now completely cleared of trees, Galicia has a fair amount of forest, but these are made up of mainly eucalyptus and pine, with little space for the slow growing indigenous species. As far as I know there are plans to try and change the balance somewhat and plant more of the native trees here in the future. I hope so, I'm sure that as I walked through that ancient forest I heard birdsong I hadn't heard anywhere else in these lands.

As luck would have it I've stopped in a bar just as Argentina took the lead over Brazil in the Olympics, 1-0 (a hint of handball, but it looked legal to me).  And then scored again. 2-0 at the moment. Tempting to stay, but I'd better be off. Oh I say, Ronaldhino just hit the post with a freekick, and Brazil scored from the rebound, but... The linesman, sorry assistant referee, says no. 2-0 it stays.

I'm going crucifyingly slowly today, the end of my little left toe has turned into... well actually I don't think there's a name for it, but it could star in its own horror movie.  It's certainly topping my personal league of blisters of all time, and accordingly is 'nae the comfiest'.

So when I saw, right by the path, this charming dry stone wall courtyard, now turned into a bar and restaurant my willpower didn't even hesitate in running up the white flag, and sent me straight in for a mouth watering cheese and ham sandwich. And a small glass of wine, for purely medicinal purposes, you understand.

At the rate I'm walking I'll be late into Sarria tonight, but it's a fine day, the other pilgrims seem in a chatty mood (the kilt provokes a mild amount of interest), so I'm happy to potter along and keep the monster in the shoe more or less quiet.

Tarde para cenar

Los cumplidos funcionaron, y encontré sitio para dormir en el hostal/bar/restaurante Arenas, en la plaza del pueblo (al lado de la iglesia que, impresiónantamente, se ha trasladado, ladrillo por ladrillo, cuando se construyó el embalse, dejando el pueblo original debajo del agua). El sitio esta muy cómodo aunque me dieron un susto cuando baje a las 11 y pico para cenar. "La cocina esta cerrada", nunca suena bien, y peor cuando te informan que probablemente va a ser difícil encontrar algo ya en el pueblo.  Y la situación ya es un desastre si acabas de caminar 40 kilómetros y a terminar has encontrado con dos ampollas parecidas a un par de globos bien hinchados.  Necesitaba una cena en condiciones para reponerme y levantar el animo.  Mis protestaciónes de "que?!, pero estamos en España!" no tenía ningún efecto. 

La salvación la encontré en el bar Meson de Rodriguez, donde la dueña, con una cara muy sonriente, me dijo, "si todavía estamos abiertos hacemos lo que sea para ponerte algo".  Un sandwich enorme de lomo y queso aparició enseguido, y eso, con una jarra de Estrella Galicia, y te digo que ningún rey ha cenado mejor, nunca. 

Después de cenar, mirando los mapas para la ruta de hoy, y con los gallegos charlando en su idioma musical en el fondo fui directamente, directamente a la cama para dormir 9 horas a un tiro.

Ahora estoy desayunando en el bar del hotel, lleno de peregrinos de bici, casi listo para irme. Hoy me toca sólo 23 km hasta Sarria, que es casi un día de descanso. Antes de coger la ruta voy a comprarme Interviu, porque una amiga me llamo esta mañana para decir que el servidor sale en sus páginas, a ver, a ver.

Buen día a todos!

I've just passed under a crazy line in the sky (1st photo), between cloudy western Galicia (2nd photo) and the nearly completely clear eastern part of the province (3rd photo) . I'd guess pretty much the whole Iberian peninsula south and east of this line is cloud free.  If it stays this way the sun cream will be in high demand tomorrow..

Just outside Palas de Rei.  They're pilgriming to Santiago, and already finished for the day (somewhat jealous of that). Good luck to them! 

Monument

To Alfredo, postman of the village of O Cotos. Simple and beautiful.