Somebody said to me a little while ago in a moment of confidences shared that I should never let anyone take away my dreams, when I heard those words I realised in my heart of hearts something I found disturbing, I had no dreams, there was no grand plan, not even maybe’s or intuition or … More The Course of Dreams
Today I leave Spain, having spent more than two weeks travelling across the country. I began in France, with a bicycle and a rucksack. I went up mountains and down again, through mile upon mile of vineyards and valleys, across streams and rivers so numerous that I couldn’t count them, through forests and glades and … More Santiago.
I head out from the little town of Astorga, chocolate town is how I will remember it, so many chocolate makers, so many shops with windows crammed with the stuff, it’s early morning and stalls are being set up for market day, van loads of fruit and vegetables are being decanted onto table tops which … More Murder in the Mountains
This peaceful gothic bridge across the River Orbigo that I crossed the other day belies a turbulent and bloody past. Battles fought by the Visigoths, the Romans, The Christians and Moors, a British General, John Moore even blew part of it up when having a run in with Napaoleons army during the Peninsular War, but … More Knights in Womens Knickers.
I am in a little auberge for the night. way out in the country, I sit down to dinner with eight other pilgrims also on the road to Santiago, two are French, two from Venezuela, one of whom has had far too much plastic surgery for her own good, four Spaniards, none of them speak … More A Frenchman and his Pineapples
This morning I wake up in the beautiful City of Leon, I am four hundred and sixty kilometres into my journey, more than half way, I have climbed a few mountains, then raced down the same number, crossed wide plains, gone through vineyards and olive groves, through villages and Cities. My Camino De Santiago began … More 460.