Kilometres walked: 381
Kilometres to Santiago: 407
Weather: hot and sunny
Injuries: Best not to talk about it
Life lesson: If you don't trust the chef, don't eat the food
We had a brilliant night out in strange Fromista, so we left a little later today with just 19km to walk. I spent most of the day walking with Stephanie from Philadelphia. We were both in a world of pain despite the short distance - with Steph having blister issues, and me with mild food poisoning. We ended up going the long way - an extra two kilometres by the river. It was pretty and we felt like the only people for miles around. We eventually made it and are staying in a beautiful hostel a world away from our dusty Fromista train station rooms, thanks to the exceptional planning of our wonderful friend from Brazil, Sergio.
A meal as fresh as the decor, of dusty plastic flowers.
A recommendation from the constabulary.
Feeling delirious straight away.
But the next day my insides ache.
Green, glutinous gel.
Hot, cold, hot, cold.
A bumpy road.
Alone with my thoughts.
Displeasure hangs like sewage in my nostrils.
Rotting chicken carcasses,
Skin gorged through.
A crumpled feather. And crushed bone.
No breeze to push it away.
Billy Idol pushing me along.
'Will you call my name?'
But no serenity yet.
Cars pass breezily, as we crunch gravel in unison,
Just 1000 steps to go I reckon.
We got this Steph.
And we did.