But in the tented village of the 5 star hotel….
Voices were heard…..
“Aye, but ken, when dae we get tae go hame.”
“Wheesht, my Lord may hear you.”
“Aye, but gonnae no dae that walkin’ miles and miles and pretendin’ its short cos its kullometters.
“Sheesh yersels, the Komandant’s sleeping, he had the bowl of Morcilla with his last hawf and has been looking like he’ll sleep through dawn – if ye dinnae wake’I'm”
“Nae worries then’
Shoooosh!
We saw them being harvested as we entered Santo Domingo del Calzado all those days ago and now – yes now – they’ve been sliced thinly, rolled in chilli powder, fried in olive oil and put in front of us
Half pint still full – patatas empty!
Oooh the joy of a wee bit salt.
We’ll make this the last stop as 7 pints is no way to prepare for breakfast – but in our defence it is friday night – we’ve walked long and hard in search of Morodor – or is that the Parador at Santiago!
Whatever – we thank you for your endurance.
Bottles – no Tapas, oh dear, that’s a bad sign but not as bad as the
PPP – Plastic Paddy Pub – OH – m
Molly Malone there’s a name – let’s use it!
Someone told me Molly was Scottish recently…
Bar 11. – yeeesssss!
The biggest half pints you ever saw are accompanied by chewy ham on thick bread dripping with olive oil and a hint of tomato.
Zing, zing, zinging, the taste buds are zinging. 3 euro! Dave – you gotta get over here once Davina is born!
Caitlin – I’ve bought you a flat in Leon – I hope you want to do music and drama here. They have lots of Audrey H pictures and no small amount of Warhol’belia, although no pictures of Edie.
Pub 12 – its Molly – the 4 metres were too easily travelled and now we’re in we can’t escape. Its our night off but a PPP – I’m gutted. We dodged it in Pamplona, in burgos and now we fall at Leon.
“My Liege” I cried “they don’t brew Guinness here”
“Yes Baldrick” replied Kapitan Kettles, “but Diageo own the world, remember the name Dia – what does it mean Baldrick”
“Your stutter is getting worse Kapitan, what should I dial” I replied. “Ouch” I shouted as Kapitan kettles whacked me with my half pint glass – and the table on which it sat.
No Tapas. Hmmn.
Komandant Kettles is now musing over strategies to get me walking before the midday burns us.
One involved the shortsighted German receptionist, or should I say her milk bottle glasses.
“I’ll burn his ankles with them Bladrick, what do you think Baldrick”
“My liege, bladrick’s off tonight, its only me, his eighth brother Baldrick”
“Can you hold spectacles” cried an angry Komandant Kettles
“Yes, every summer we wash our clothes in the river to scare the sabre tooth tigers away” Baldrick Al replied
With that the Kettlemania subsided and Al slid off to bar no. 13, unlucky for no one!
Before we left we checked the toilets out. They got a 4.
The steps up had me out of puff. Its no holiday this – not least the step back out the toilets when you’ve forgotten you stepped up going in! Oops diary of a drinking person is fraught with reality checks.
No. 13 is back to the cheeky cheerful we love. This time 2 beers, 4 chicken wings and a 2.80 euro bill – “have a fiver its Christmas” Shouts the Komandant!
“Baldirck pay the man”
“But my name’s Baldrick, my Liege”
“Bradlick, just do as I say, but have you seen Bald Rick – I thought it was only Davie and Reidy we called slap heid?”
“Sire, I feel I have infected you with my mad genes”
“No bladrick, these jeans are fine, just a bit loose”
Pub 14 beckons
Unfortunately – Simon – in the long habit of Jeffrey Barnard – is unwell.
He hopes to be back tomorrow to write his blog.
The Old Vic has confirmed that should a play be written – Peter O’Toole will not star.
www.500m.wordpress.com is the blog for Si and Al as they walk 500 miles across Spain to raise money for CHAS. Please read and comment.
CHAS is a children’s hospice and all donations are gratefully received. www.justgiving.com/deadbeat
We have taken to this city with its big cathedral, big comfy beds, big shower with clever design, big patio for drying smelly traveller washing, but biggest and best of all we don’t need to buy food.
We get Tapas with every half pint. This one is chewy ham – that parma stuff except we know its a local speciality – and a piece of Spanish omellete – each – served on bread.
So my dietician. Where is he? Stu are you out there, or anyone else.
Today we ate Rice with something at the first place, liver at the 2nd, meatballs, patatas and 2 mussels at the 3rd, nowt at the 4th – by the cathedral so 5 euro for a view, just olives at the 5th – although webmaster take note the band may have a gig there, and now we’re at the 6th place and ready to find out what nibbles the 7th offers.
3 pints and we’re jumping.
One more half and we’ve found Dave’s place in Leon – even he isn’t here – the barmaid served us then left – man we must smell bad. That’s two showers and a shave!
She left us crisps and olives – she’s maybe nipped down the chippy to get us some morcilla (black pudding).
We’ll be away when she gets back – even we tire of our own company! We’ve had to send strangers away to find her as they kept shouting for her and looking in the bar and giving us those looks of “have you locked her in the cellar”.
Bar no. 8 is in our sites. They gave us rice for lunch will it be the same menu tonight!
Oh yes! Oh yes! Oh yes!
They’ve changed the menu and the place is jumping.
Tonight with Si and Al we have patatas in a lovely garlic sauce. Glad we’ll no be kissin’ nobody. Oh, how good was that. Its got to be worth doing in Edinburgh – Niall are you listening!
Chelsea, I know you’re not!
Its only a starter size plate – if that – but it hits the spot and beats the crisps and peanuts every time. Such a shame the profit margins get in the way of a good free scran!
Oh – no. 9 where are you. We’re playing spin the bottle to choose our next bar. Soon it’ll be Spin Al!
A few days back we realised punk was not dead – and neither was the fly in the wee town on the way to Fromista. It was break dancing on the floor going round faster than Si or I can remember a croupier spinning the wheel – and I thought – great sport this – but then I thought – I’ll kick it onto its front – but it just dive back on it wings again and so we watched.
We wanted to send the video but it cost too much and demonstrated just what sad gits do when their down on their luck and trudge 500 miles to say – buddy can you spare a dime – ok – bar 9 we’re off!
Oops – bad choice! This guy collects money. His bar is clear perpsex and on the counter are notes from many countries and regimes. There’s a few with gorgeous George’s face on them – sorry Saddam’s, I doubt they’ll be legal now – although maybe the currency is ok, its surely not the dollar that runs Iraq – well maybe the 3 dollar bill!
Bad choice though no food!
Interestingly bank notes come in many colours, Saddam for example chose Maroon and Green – an interesting choice for the denizens of Edinburgh. There’s a plaque on the camino commemorating Saddam’s time in Edinburgh.
I’m not sure if this is relevant – he wears a suit in the maroon one and a uniform in the green one – but in both he is comfortably slimmer and more attractive than Si and I.
If we had notes made – we’d choose pictures from when we were under 12 stone too. So what, if we looked a bit young, teenagers run households so why not currencies!
There you go – my first toilet stop. I’ve recovered from the waters of reliegous but after no food to soak it up I’ve succumbed
I’m sliding into the obscure – so Iain – please stop reading now. I do oblique naturally sorry!
Oh – I’ve just spotted a mirror – we have a unique photo opportunity – aha – if si could get cash into his phone.
Back later…..
www.500m.wordpress.com is the blog for Si and Al as they walk 500 miles across Spain to raise money for CHAS. Please read and comment.
CHAS is a children’s hospice and all donations are gratefully received. www.justgiving.com/deadbeat
From 4 euro a night and 100 smelly people to 100 euro a night and only 2 sweaty Socks!
Its indescribable so I won’t attempt.
What I will say is we ran out of the last place so fast it was -1 outside and we had to walk to keep warm.
We were nearly last so God and St James alone know what the eskimos who left at 6am were wearing.
Its the mountains. We’re up high and we forget sometimes that we are 1000m up even though it so flat.
I put my sleeping bag back over my head – it looked quite fetching if I was doing a jakey impersonation but wasn’t much use unless you wanted to do a tango and the restriction in leg movement meant I was losing ground fast on the big fella.
We made it though and got a brilliant hotel right next to the Cathedral.
Tapas come free with each beer – 2 beers – 3 euro and a free plate of paella.
Towns are a nightmare for internet cafes so this blog’ll have to do – we’re on holiday!
www.500m.wordpress.com is the blog for Si and Al as they walk 500 miles across Spain to raise money for CHAS. Please read and comment.
CHAS is a children’s hospice and all donations are gratefully received. www.justgiving.com/deadbeat
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