Day 3

Practically bouncing out of my sleeping bag, I pack up my home in 3 minutes flat. I’m full of energy for road. The rides are endless and by 9am I’ve covered 100km. But I’m running out energy and realise this is probable because all I’ve eaten in 48 hours is a pack of instant noodles. I see a sign for 2 euro hamburgers and can’t resist. Mmm hamburger breakfast. I brush my teeth in the restaurant bathroom after eating and feel unstoppable. My budget is shot to hell so I decide to buy some rice and make up for it over the next few days.

The ultimate mobile home
(yes these are all photos of photos taken on a
disposable camera thats why the quality is so good) 

The supermarket is massive and everything is very cheap. Danger. I leave with a bag of rice, a baseball cap and some white board markers. 10 euros. Budget drops to under 1 euro a day. Looks like it’s going to be a hard road to Santiago. I rationalise this spend, I need a hat if I’m walking for a month and with the whiteboard markers I can start hitching on roads that divide. This would be true except an hour later I leave my cap and whiteboard in the back of a van. I’m so used to my forgetfulness that I’m not even angry, this is just part of living with myself.

I’m on the road with my thumb out for a bout 3 hours with nothing. I spot a hippie van heading on to the motorway which I was trying to avoid due to lack of white board and wanting to keep the man off my back. I run to get in front of the van. It’s painted with peace symbols, flowers all the usual fare. I stick my thumb out with a smile on my face. The van drives by with a dreadlocked couple sitting in the 3 seat front cab. They glance at me and continue driving.

Are you fucking kidding me!!!! Fucking designer hippies driving around in there 9 grand VW camper for the weekend. Pissed off and consider hurling a rock at the car when a semi pulls up next to me. I decide that the VW was just a sign to get me on this road so this truck could pick me up. I don’t normally believe in signs but I’m reading Paulo Coelho’s The Alchemist and I’m very impressionable when it comes to books. Normally lasts only a few day’s. I read The Last of the Mohicans’s latter in the trip and spend 4 days trying to read boot prints and seeing how close I could sneak up to other pilgrims before they heard me. Which isn’t close, I’m heavy set and flat footed.

Laurence but goes by Baloo ( the bear from Jungle book, suits him perfectly) helps me lift my bag into his cab.

Day 3 to be continued