Are we there yet? No, I swear to God. I wish you children would stop complaining. This was another 'kind of' rest day. We had a good breakfast served up by Julio I think, who was as quiet as Maria was forthcoming - but was very good to us and kept bringing more, more, more until we were absolutely clear we'd had enough. We'd had a really nice time and told him so and he shook both our hands in his two hands and said it had been a pleasure to have us in his house.
Delighted to stumble across this Hummingbird Hawk-moth.
Peter was looking forwards to showing me the brutalist architecture of the Hostel we were staying in in Muxia. He had stayed there before with Nick. I did like it but my feet were really done again and maybe wet shoes had exacerbated the blister problem. The next two final days of the trip were billed as big days and I had one particularly sore blister and also my achilles were shouting. I just holed up at Muxia and Peter went to the shops, and we had a night off from Spanish things and eating out, although we may have had a bottle of wine - and we had muesli and bananas for tea. Peter had got some plasters and I tried to sort my feet out as best I could.
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