DAY 32. 9 JUNE 2016. LA FRANCA TO PENDUELES

A very comfortable and silent night. Breakfast, lovely clean clothes in the pack and we're off on a wonderful walk along the coast. It's warm and misty and the steel grey sea disappears into the horizon. The rocks here love the light and lie on the surface, nestled amongst thyme, pale pink thrift and white Sea-Campion.

 We meet a group of Irish people on the coast path; members of a running club who are walking the Camino for a week. Their fluorescent tops and hats bob amongst the bracken and gorse ahead of us- we enjoy their craic and one chap regales me with stories about pubs in Crystal Palace in the early 1960s.

I'm taking lots of photos and fall behind at find myself having to cross a narrow 'Tolkien-esque' bridge of craggy rock about 15 foot wide. To my right is a vertical cliff and to my left a deep cauldron with the waves swirling far below. On rough days it must be pretty dramatic. It's the first time I've been afraid on the Camino and thank goodness for my poles. I test every step and feel very unsteady. It takes a long time to cross, but luckily the waves are having the day off.  Then through a field with cows, calves and a great brown bull. I hurry towards the only gate I can see and am very relieved when I see a yellow arrow painted on a railway bridge pointing on towards the village of Pendueles.

Christine and I meet up at the edge of the village and discuss over a coffee and orange juice that we've had enough excitement today and her calves are painful; we decide to stop and have a short day. The alberge here has a good reviews and opens at 2.30pm, so it's time for more coffee and tortilla and a spot of blogging.

The albergue is cosy and welcoming and the volunteer hospitaleros are brothers from Sicily. It has friendly, well cared for atmosphere with a three course communal supper, eaten at a long table. Lots of chat.

The nearby bed is bagged by an interesting American woman called Rebecca, who is a farrier. Over supper she tells her story; she has come to Spain to find her recently-discovered blood-father's family who was an American-Basque cowboy. An amazing story.  She has the face of a Basque saint from a reredos. Although he died some years ago, it turned out that her father was also a farrier!