Startpoint: Los Arcos; Endpoint: Viana; Distance walked: about 18km; Steps taken: about 26,374, Conditions: Weather turned again and was very cloudy this morning, which is not a bad thing at all. It got very hot again in the afternoon.

I´m typing this in the public library in Viana.

We went out last night for dinner with a Canadian couple and an Australian couple and didn´t mention the queen, the commonwealth or the empire even once. Aren´t we wonderful?

Dad and I were staying in an Austrian-run hostel in Los Arcos. It was very organised – they even had signs to tell us where we were allowed to lay our bags (on the bed is not allowed, beside the bed is not allowed, only at the end of the bed is allowed). When we got back to our dorm room, the room was very warm and stuffy and smelled like a tunafish pizza. I don´t like tuna.

We hit the road early as we weren´t sure how far we were going to travel – 18km to Viana or 28km to Logrono. As the bells were ringing for 9am, we reached a place called Sansol and I found a small Farmacia, where I hoped to buy an ankle brace. The Farmacia had a sign outside the door showing weekday opening hours of 9am til 5pm, so we decided to wait. At ten minutes passed nine, an old woman from across the street loudly expressed her concern with the two sweaty foreign gentlemen hanging around outside her window so early on a Monday morning. When she realised we were waiting for the pharmacy to open, she pointed to her watch and indicated (I think) five more minutes. At twenty five minutes past nine, a car sped up the street and skidded to a halt beside us. The pharmacist seemed to be expecting us – I think she was called by the neighbour. She sold me an ankle brace and a tube of deep-heat for €36. The bill presumably included the standard ´getting my ass out of a warm bed´ surcharge.

We had a short and easy enough walk into Viana. With the ankle brace on it, the walking is feeling a lot better. The brace, the walking stick, the neurofen, the deep-heat, the paracetemol and the red wine seem to have done the trick. It´s a delicate balance of treatments. The leg is still a little tender, but I´m moving well enough. We stopped early as the only other option was to do another 10km through (as the guide book puts it) “long slow industrial sprawl” into Logrona. We´ll leave that pleasure for the morning.

Today we forgot one of the lessons we learned earlier in the trip and checked into the first Albergue we found. It´s not a bad place, but we later found a couple of other options including the parochial hostel, incorporated in an ancient church, where the cost of a bad is a donation to the parish of your own choosing. Maybe I could have donated Dad.

In the place where we are staying, the landlady who greeted us didn´t speak any English but seemed to take a shine to Dad. After we registered, she leaned over to take the bag from around his shoulders to carry it up for him. As she did so, she noticed the knee support on his leg. She patted and rubbed it tenderly and uttered some soothing words in Spanish. After she showed us to the dorm, she gave each of our sweaty dusty bodies a hug (his longer than mine, although I´m sure he disagrees) and told us her name was Carmel. Later on, from the shelter of a dark pub, we think we saw Carmel roaming the town in bright red high heels. Looking for Dad, no doubt. Carmel´s got swagger.

I handed our laundry into the hostel to get washed and dried. Unfortunately, due to a miscalculation in the underwear department, I handed all my underwear in to get washed and am now going commando. Does anyone know if there´s a law against going commando in a public library? The library computers still have floppy disk drives and no USB ports, so I think they kinda owe me one.

Unfortunately we saw a few of the Irish people we´d got to know along the way leave us today. They had to make it to Logrono to catch a train to Madrid and a flight home. There were tears, there were sad words, there were photos and the exchange of mobile phone numbers. I´ve met a few people who are going the whole way to Santiago, but the majority (like my Dad) only have limited time and will be leaving at some stage. Sniff…

One of my Aussie relatives made a comment about the Camino a little while ago. With regard to adding it to their bucket list, they thought maybe they´d be well advised to add it to the list, but to add it at the end. At few people on the walk are talking about bucket lists. I´d hate to think “Nah, I´m too old to do that”. I ´d much rather think “Nah, I´ve already frigging done it”.

Tomorrow we head at least as far as Logrono and maybe on to Navarette. Tonight, we´re meeting two Irish lads and an Aussie girl for dinner.

Buen Camino.