Friday, 8 July 2016


Recently, Mum, Louis, Ro and I walked some of the Camino de Santiago. It's a route pilgrims used to walk across Spain all the way to the Cathedral in Santiago.

We entered in France, and before boarding the train in Biarritz we hauled in a picnic of apricot tarte, flans and pain au raisin with a bottle of cidre and paper cups. The train stopped frequently at alpine villages with no platforms punctuating our views of endless green slopes and snowy tips.

The guesthouse was run by a pencil thin pencil lipped henna bobbed French woman In a jade shirt suit, her terrier Elan, and her absolutely normal for 2016 smiling daughter. Glass domes of marshmallows on the counter.

The problem I have is that I seem to be the only true pilgrim on this trail. We are walking everyday but I think it should go further than that with a spartan spread to greet us each evening. The others went totally lux tonight ordering cod omelette and goats cheese salad and any pudding they liked. I meanwhile grovelled to the €12 pilgrim set menu- cod LESS omelette, goats cheese LESS salad. I might as well have worn my set menu apple crumble round my head like thorns whilst they deliberated over creme brûlée or chocolate mousse. As I say, choice is the devil's dessert.

I luckily don't get much choice on this holiday, sartorially at least, as I only brought one outfit and underwear set for five days. I'm two days down now... I'll let you know in a few days whether I've cooked up my own cod omelette.

No comments:

Post a Comment