Day of Rest?
Well, sort of . . . after the excesses of the previous day . . . . . . and evening . . .
. . . we decided to have a relatively sedate day around the campsite. Several of the most althletically elite members of the SBCC elected to spend the day ‘recovering’ . . .
. . . but not before seeking out provisions from the the local shop which is located 1 mile down the road. Surprisingly well provisioned – like a Spar on amphetimines.
Mike and I, eschewing the chance for a day of tapering before tomorrow’s mountainous attempt, decided to go adventuring down the hill towards Cangas de Onis, ideally on flat bits but I’m not convinced that this is possible. . . .
. . . later, we found several things of interest:
Cangas de Onis is not far, there are many hills that lead to absolutley nowhere and the beer is good. Also, there is some sort of ‘cow thing’ going on there which may or may not merit further investigation . . .
. . . and I don’t make a very attractive Dutch girl . . .
Despite all these obstacles, Mike and I made it back up the hill to the campsite.
This evening I volunteered to cook so treated ‘Cabin No. 2’ to one of my signiature dishes . . . yes, you guessed it folks, the Evans Lentil Chilli! As you can see, eveyone has the rictus smile of buttock clenching enjoyment that is one of the consequences of this repaste. . . .