Provincia di Novara

Diy breakfast as in our host dropped off a couple of croissants in my apartment before I got up and we had them and coffee, orange juice etc. Headed out of town which was a lot livelier at 9am on a Tuesday than it had been on a Monday early evening. It seems Italy really doesn’t do Mondays very much at all.

Got to thinking about birds today. Started when we stopped in the only potential feeding station of the day. Had a cheese and ham toastie and juice and then went to the loo as is my want. Standing there when my eye was drawn to a Pirelli style pin-up of a young lady. How very sexiest I thought until I noticed that, for the ladies, who I believe invariably sit on these occasions, on the opposite wall and at a suitably reduced height was a poster of a rather scantily clad gentleman who allegedly works as a fireman. That’s all right then.

Later on while wandering endlessly through rice field after rice field I noticed the other type of birds. The ones that fly. Got to wondering how they work out flying together. Firstly you have the geese flying south for winter. How do they decide who is going to lead? Do they take votes? Does it go to the oldest? Or is it like our royal family? The leader hands the leadership down to one of his bairns. Is there a crown or a fancy feather? And do they bicker over who is going to fly next to the head burd. Lords and ladies etc.

Then we have the ones I saw today where you have half a dozen taking off together. Is there a Biggles in charge who makes the decision to take-off? How does he or she communicate with the others? Or does he/she simply start engines as it were and the rest go “help ma bob, we’re off” and make chase? I could go on (and on) but you get my drift. The mind wanders a little when the feet are just plodding left, right, repeat. This was a little like the flat lands of France but with a lot more farms, roads, railways etc.

Walking with someone is very different to walking alone. You can’t really bang in Desert Island Discs. Bit anti-social even by my standards. But being male, talk is not continuous. There are big chunks of silence. Not a concept that I would expect females to really understand or am I being sexist now?

Tonight’s hostel is, I think, the first I have come across being run by pilgrims for pilgrims. The couple in charge are looking after it for a week and then someone else takes over. They prepared an evening meal and will also do breakfast. At 7am unbelievably. Why? Anyway dinner was lovely. Veggie which made a pleasant change from most of the food so far. And as a real treat for everyone I made use of the washing machine & tumble dryer. My walking t-shirt and shorts have been worn every day for the last 8 weeks or so and I thought at was maybe about time they got something more than my effort at hand-washing. Slight concern that the dryer will reduce them to unwearable as that would mean the clothes I am currently wearing (you will be pleased to learn) are the only things I could wear. Bit limited.Read more