Rest day in Leon

The last time I played weddings, I was 7-years-old and it involved me wearing my white dressing gown the wrong way round and liberating fake flowers from an ornamental vase in the hallway.

I never imagined I'd been playing weddings again at 32, but that's the Camino.

Technically, I wasn't playing weddings, Martine was, but it was my white silk sleeping bag liner she was using as a dress, and I was the wedding photographer, so you could say I was an accessory.

This is what happens when you have a rest day - you get a weird high from all the sugar you eat but don't burn off and things get silly.

The day started well, and by that I mean, it started in a cafe and I ate a massive slab of cake.

I decided to try to use the day to write, so I found another cafe and stayed there for hours and hours, eating, drinking and writing. It was heaven, and even better when Martine came for a little visit and we ate some more.

After a productive (in terms of writing and digestion) day, I met the gang in a bar by the hostel and we had a few beers - they felt quite naughty, as I'd not 'earned' them with a 16 mile walk.

I really liked the woman who owned the bar and we decided to eat there that evening (because I hadn't stuffed myself enough that day). Usually the 10E 'pilgrim menus' are to be avoided (we once experienced frozen pasta), but what this lady cooked for us was fantastic, simple but awesome food.

After some more wine with dinner, Martine and I decided to get a relatively early night...it was cold in the hostel, so I offered her my sleeping bag liner, and well...what are two girls hyped up on cake and wine to do with themselves alone in a hostel dorm?

#herecomesthebride