Startpoint: Leon; Endpoint: Hospital de Orbigo; Distance walked: 36k; Steps taken: 45,237.

As I begin to type this, I’m sitting in a hammock, swinging back and forth and watching the sun go down. The yoga class has just finished, and we’ll all be called in for the communal vegetarian dinner very soon.

We were all a little sad leaving Leon, as we’d had a great time and it meant the end of our little group, at least for the time being. As we left, we discussed sweating, being judgemental and breakfast. It was a nice way to leave things.

It was a long walk today, we didn’t stop, and the sun was very hot. I was wearing my new shorts and got a lot of grit and small stones in my walking shoes. We passed fields of tall corn, heavy with ears ripe for harvesting. I spent a lot of time imagining aliens making crop circles and peering out from amongst the stalks. We passed fields of cattle; I commented on the size and whiteness of the cows’ ears. I mooed at one of the cows. The cow did not moo back. The grit in my boots was beginning to bother me and I considered for a while the possibility of a piece of grit being transformed into a beautiful pearl through being coated with layers of bootjuice. After thinking about aliens, mooing at cows and anticipating feetpearls, I realised I should probably find some shade and have a sitdown.

At one stage along the walk, the fella I was travelling with rescued a small insect from a fluffy white dog. We decided it was some form of mantis. The dog looked a bit lost and confused after we took away its toy.

As we walked on, I considered the pilgrims’ relationship with wildlife. Another walking companion had saved a small mouse from being trodden on and now another companion had saved a rare and interest insect from becoming dogfood. I began to wonder when my time would come. I’d saved a wasp from my coke a few days ago, but arguably that was really quite a selfish act. I just wanted to drink my coke and a throwing a half-drowned and angry wasp into the middle of a crowded street where most people are wearing flip-flops and sandals is not particularly responsible.

I thought that my turn to rescue some defenceless animal must come soon. Then as we entered a small town, I heard mewling in a hedge beside me. I was walking alone and seized the opportunity to rescue the poor kitty who’d become stuck in the thorny brambles. In my brand new shorts, showing off my milky white legs, I strode confidently into the bushes, making miaowing noises as I went. ‘Here kitty kitty kitty’, finally I found where the cat had been, but the cat had moved. ‘Poor pussy got confused’, I thought, and scrambled back through more thorns to the new source of the mewling. The cat moved again.

Four times the little furry bastard moved away as I got closer to him. Four times! Then I gave up. Either that cat is a sadistic little furball (and just wanted to watch the scratches on my legs multiply), or it’s beyond hope anyway. My snazzy new expensive walking shorts have tiny tears all over them and my calves and ankles look like a bad imitation of a map of the London underground.

After-dinner note:
The dinner was very tasty. This eco-, yoga-, buddhist-, meditation-hostel doesn’t serve any alcohol, but instead the owner sang us a song of thanks to the whole of existence to bless our meals. The song was in Spanish; some people who don’t speak Spanish closed their eyes, smiled serenely and nodded earnestly in agreement to the lyrics. This is one of the nicest hostels I’ve stayed in on the Camino, but I’m leaving tomorrow.

Buen Camino