So I set off in the dark , I opt for coffee sad to leave my monastery. Nothing will feel so gentle and serene to me plus the fact my itinerary says that I will be in a hostel next!! Fear strikes me. As usual after 2 hours a make shift bar appears. I need the toilet. When I say make-shift I mean make-shift. Oh God give me back my hippy man. A Mr. Groucho greets me on his trestle table offering burnt sausages from his barbie or coffee in a polystyrene cup. The choice is endless. I can of course opt for a banana or bruised peach…orange juice? …I opt for coffe. Is there a toilet I ask in Spanish…
”NON NON…no pee here”
Oh, never mind I think. I return to my picnic table. On my morning journey I was walking behind David…wise man…You can pick him out because he has three quarter white cardiolist suggested socks on. He had turned and must have seen me in my morning white plastic Primark poncho…..he waits for me…we have an amazing conversation about American politics, Clinton and Hilary…and Trump and mid terms and how he wont get in??? I’m not so sure…then it leads into brexit…oh god!!
I kind of mutter that we didn’t know all the facts , we were just worried about immigration…but then all this about no medications and visa’s and trade agreements come to light. I always thought that united we stand is better than apart but I end up saying…
“well we have survived 2 world wars, never been invaded and maybe we will be ok!!!”
My coffee was 1.30 euros?…lets see if we make it in a year. It might become 3 euros!!!
I think David realises after he went off for a wee outside the bar commune that I would have to stop outside a tree further down the road. So he bids farewell. I photograph the sign that says…YOU CANT PEE HERE!! I cant pee here. I have to move on.