I found sleeping in a dormitory of snorers and whistlers a bit challenging, but managed to fall asleep by midnight. Mornings start early on the road, and by eight I was in the car of the hostess of the hostel, who very kindly dropped me off at the pilgrim hostel here, where they have agreed to let me stay two nights so my feet can recover.

After introductions and a coffee, I went out into town, with Annie, my walking companion. After a while we went our separate ways, and I took a bus to the enormous shopping centre on the south of town – about half the size of a Bluewater or a MetroCentre. There I found a Decathlon, and some knowledgeable young assistants who helped find some new walking shoes – waterproof, well-padded, and very comfortable. All for a very moderate price.

Back to the hostel, where I got my feet up and rested. I did some reorganising of the rest of my trip, planned the next few days, cancelled one or two reservations which won’t now work, and made a few attempts to book ahead, none of which worked. But there are enough places where I can just turn up and get a bed.

In the evening Annie and I went out to dinner – she goes on tomorrow while I will stay behind. Pilgrims, and perhaps especially pilgrims of a certain age, undertake the trip for a host of perhaps complicated reasons. If you get on with some of the people you encounter (Paul, the Belgian doctor who is going blind, for example) then your conversations often get very personal. A kind of lorry-driver principle, perhaps. Annie certainly falls into that category, and I have appreciated her friendship and her company.

Tomorrow is another rest day. I plan to go out and find somewhere where I can watch the Pope’s funeral, walk a bit in my new shoes, and then get my feet up. I hope then I shall be as ready as I can be to get back on the road.