Oh dear. I have overdone the walking and my body is terribly angry with me.
An old hip injury has decided to emerge, which apart from being incredibly painful and making it impossible to get around, had me feeling quite depressed by the end of yesterday.
This morning, after a bit of epiphanic reflection ( is that a word? epiphanic? I'm not getting that red line under it telling me I can't spell, so it must be) and some loving advice from my soul buddy back home, I am feeling relieved and glad things have gone sideways for a minute. This is the way I'm looking at it:
My life is full of activity, whether I'm at work or not. There's rarely a moment I'm not doing something 'constructive'. I came on this trip to take a break from that and I haven't stopped running about like a disorientated chook. Its hard not to, in such an exciting place but now my body is forcing me to take a breath.
So over the next 2 days I will exhale. I will get a massage, read a book on Fabio's sunny terrace and get a little care pack from the delectable ham and cheese market down the road.
On Sunday, I will sit on a train all day and watch the countryside pass, while I breathe all the way up to San Sebastian by the sea. I may write some more before then, I may not.