On the camino, down

Down, down always down; 800m descending in 7km. The weather is damp and the mist is thick and we are walking down hill on scree paths and wet natural slabs of slate. The consequence was inevitable and I lost my dignity once. In some treacherous areas there were regular shouts from lines of horizontal pilgrims all soaking up the mud. We dragged one lady up out of the vegetation by passing her our poles to grab onto. She had slipped and fallen and her very large rucksack, with the help of gravity, had deposited her downhill into the wet scrub where she flailed about like an up-ended tortoise. The profanities emanating from the scrub appeared to sound Eastern European and the fact we got no thanks or signs of gratitude for dragging her back onto the path sort of confirms my prejudice.Read more