There is no room and while we continue to search, outside the pilgrim's hostel we meet the Spaniard. He tells us that it is useless to search, the place is small and by now the few rooms will already be occupied. In his opinion, therefore, it would be better to continue. Meanwhile, he begins to drizzle.
We put on our k-way and, breathing in an intense smell of wet nature, we begin to cross fields of corn.
A plump peasant wishes us «¡Buen camino!» and tells us that we will soon be entering Puente la Reina.
In a square, a group of Germans get off a coach. The driver informs us that we need to walk a little longer to reach the historic center.
8.
At breakfast, I find St and the Spaniard sitting at the same table. They smile and talk with complicity, they didn't see me enter and I hesitat
