A cold coming we had of it
I have been eating from time to time with Matija, a Slovenian who began his walk in Gibraltar. He's a wiry chap, with bony face, rheumy eye, and a bit of a tremor. But he goes like the clappers.
He's a very pleasant fellow, and I have enjoyed our conversations about the former Yugoslavia. I am wary of shaking hands with him: he takes my hand, grips it hard, raises it to shoulder level, and then brings it down sharply to his waist, as if operating a hand pump. I feel the effect for some time.
I asked him at breakfast how far he was going today. Depends on the weather, he said. If in doubt, he consults an ancient Chinese philosopher, I Ching. The technique involves tossing a coin six times, but he has an app on his phone to do the coin-tossing for him, a long bridge between past and present, since I Ching was ancient in the time of Confucius.
There was some confusion about how to get out of town, but with the help of some locals, I managed. First some friendly fellows in a bar indicated the right direction, and then a pedestrian rescued me just as I was about to follow the GR off into the wilderness.
For anyone behind me, continue up the hghwayl a good kilometre to the roundabout, turn left, and then, about 300 yards on, take a little path to the left which passes in front of an ugly white chapel, and joins the Via de la Plata.
I walked all day without a break. It was too cold to stop, and I would never have got my poncho back on in the wind. At times i was almost jogging just to keep warm. On and off the Roman road all day, I passed through pine forest, sheep pasture, and oak woods.
Cork oak stripped bare, exposing knobbly trunk
Unclad, how sad, just so finest vintage can be drunk
It's colder here's, so the white rose is barely blooming, but it grows in enormous shrubs along the way. A few jonquils, lots of lavender, and a spectacular orchid.
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