Meeting Emily from Virginia in Ages and Atapuerca

Some Camino moments just happen and they disappear, dislodged by the latest Camino moment. 

You rarely capture them for long but they return when you're next in that location. 

Its a recurring theme for me and from 2007 when I first walked with Simon. In the Caminos that followed there's much confusion if I was on my own or with someone. 

Here we are in Leon, 2016, Stu, Paul even Roger was out for a bit, then Harry who of course was there in 2011. 

It usually starts with, "oh I remember when", like the Newry girls I met in Azcueta and climbing the hill to Villamayor de Monjardin, when we were stuck behind the donkey and auld french woman who clearly had restricted walking capacity and was in a chair, or chariot, as I liked to attempt on French.

I was chatting to the Virginian Emily in Atapuerca about how we rated the meals on our first Camino in 2007.

Now I'm home I've the time to revisit each and every day. This particular day I had a great laugh.

It was everything I hope for from a Camino day.

I stayed in Villambistia last Wednesday, I had my usual drouth. 

I always have a thirst, on October 1.

I finished September in Navarrete, wandered to Najera via Ventosa and bought a 15€ sack of vino from Alvia. It's been years in the coming.

Then I got the bus to Villambistia from Najera. I'd walked 18k so felt pretty chilled that I'd done a shift.

What surprised me was my determination to stay at Espinosa del Camino where Jimmy John and I stopped on the last leg before the boys came out for Paul's 50th. We always planned to come out and do that leg over to San Juan de Ortega. It's a long story from an earlier blog so we will leave it there.

What happened was St Jacques's at jack's best. Espinosa and it 24 beds was far from empty by the time I walked up, it was now full.

Split decision go forward or back. I walked back. Shortest distance and a bus stop. I had 48 mins to the next bus. The rest is history so back to my Thursday story and Emily.

the afternoon before.

Fat Al Scottish Camino

It's over so soon. I arrived in Burgos on Friday October 3rd and left it in the sunshine on the 13:45 bus to torrelevega.

This bus went to San Vicente de barquera, the place Simon and I stopped at on the Norte in June. 

How apt.

I loved the town and then I got the train along to Santander.

I stayed in a place so far out of the centre on the way to the north west coast and the football stadium.

As always a great laugh full of serendipity. Plenty tears of reflection to clear any dusty eyes.

It was quite a mess the actual Camino. My fitness and relationship with food was an abstract concept that I couldn't work out. I kept forgetting to eat and thinking coffee and sugar would work. Then I tried protein shakes for breakfast. 

The result was lots of walking, stopping and buses. So much serendipitous bus getting or missing.

Whether it was leaving Biarritz for San Sebastian, Pamplona, or booking Estella for the wrong night. Brilliant fun.

In Azcueta after I strolled out from Estella my plan was to make it to Los Arcos and stay in the lovely new albergue. The temperature got up and I said I better get the bus. As I walked down the 11:10 bus arrived in time for me to see it, 20 metres before I got to the bus stop. 

The result a wonderful evening in Villamayor de Monjardin.

Ana the host was superb and I met the Danish lads, aka The Vikings.

It was like that all the time and when I got a bus from Najera to Villambistia I thought I'd walk up to Espinosa and finally stay in the reopened albergue.

After a quick beer I wandered up in the afternoon heat. There were a few ahead of me but I was relaxed as I'd checked booking and there were still loads of beds.

As I went to ask if there was a lower bunk available the answer came back saying no albergue is sold out. I laughed at St Jacques's messing with my head.

I walked back down the hill to Villambistia and took the lower bunk just ahead of the two Vikings walking back in. So funny.

Cardenuela Rio Pico to follow, before I finally arrive in Burgos for the end of the El Cid.

70 years now.

Walking the Rio pico to Burgos

After the one hour up and down hill from Atapuerca you arrive in the valley of the Rio Pico. A tiny dribble of water that has clearly sustained a number of towns over the years. 

As it's all about survival water was clearly important not just in the days of Atapuerca but right up to today so first things first. Water stops.

I'm a big fan of Cardenuela Rio Pico and it's big tap is in the centre of the town.

The next tap is 2km down the road in orbaneja. The cafe / albergue opens at 8am until October then it's 11am. Today is October 3rd and so I had some water.

Finally before we hit the taps of the town in Castanes we hit the airport taps.

All good taps and hopefully you'll have drunk a litre between each and not made the sad mistake of just carrying water.

The times are roughly 2km 25 mins, 1km 12 mins and then 3km around the airport. Thus we arrive at the scrap metal, then traffic lights, cross to the left for the cafe with the bus stop and the fountain. 

So easy to jump a number 4 bus to the centre if you haven't the legs to walk along the river. If you have got the legs you'll be rewarded and all the need to do is walk along the side street, past the play park and second fountain, over a wee bridge then turn right. Go past the allotment ceer left over a bridge into a woody area next to the motorway. Follow the path to veer a bit diagonal right and then under the motorway and you'll be on your way.

I love this walk as my appetite grows with every step. I've taken to visiting a cafe near Burgos CF. I cross the river by the outdoor gym and more taps. Part of a new build complex has been given over to a cafe or two and very simple understated and delicious.

Today I took the bus as the El Cid festival was in town and it'sy last day.

Had a coffee as the bus turns off vitoria and then walked around being a tourist.

The cathedral gets closer so quickly

I love the city.

So many angles of the cathedral, I could be here all day.

I had to go so over the bridge I went.

I waved Burgos bye bye and see you soon.

Half pints are the way forward

I say it every Camino and break my golden rule too often.

Half pints for whatever reason are usually less than half the price of a pint.

I often think it's the Spanish way to take the piss out of the Brits and serve them warm lager. The truth is probably in the middle.

Half pints are probably not subject to tax or something.

Here in Villambistia it's €1.60 and €4.50.

Conclusion is, drink less more often.

I paid €1.60 when I got off the bus at 2.30pm before walking up and paying €2 at Espinoza del Camino a place I'm still not calling home. 

Booking.com had beds but not the owner so I was not going to try and book one to wind him 

The vikings have arrived in Villambistia

Unbelievable - I've had three buses and finally got ahead of Nikolaj and Frederick.... Only to find myself caught again

They're too fit. I got a bus 80km😎

Biarritz to Pamplona to Burgos to Santander - September 25th 2025

For many years I have hunted the bargains and extolled the virtue of Ryanair and short camino walks. So to find a flight to Biarritz for £21 on September 25th. I'll arrive thursday and head down to Irun or San Sebastian for lunch and then Pamplona. A thursday evening in Pamplona then a bus out to a dorm in Zizur Menor.

Simon and I stayed here before and from here you can walk up the hill to Monte del Perdon. Its quite simply a pilgrimage to say farewell. When John walked up this hill a long long time ago, 2018, I think he galloped up it while Jimmy with his dodgy knees moved at a steadfast 3km per hour.

Jimmy has good knees now but John sadly will never climb that hill again. I like the idea that we leave him at the top of this hill, so thats where I'm putting him. 

 I'll then walk down the hill to Puente La Reina and have a glass of gin and tonic, Larios obviously, in the wonderful dark bar where we went back in 2018. Update - I had a wine, gin seemed too dangerous.

They went home after that day and we would pick it up a year later. So then its off to Estella for saturday night. Sunday in my new favourite albergue in Los Arcos and then Monday night in Logrono.

So quick update, I stayed in Estella monjardin and Viana before Monday in Logroño and yes I'm needing a decision now. Update below.

Tuesday I'll have to make a decision to head to San Sebastian or Bilbao. I loved the albergue in Najera so my operating plan is tuesday in Najera with Wednesday a wander up to Santo Domingo and then a bus to Tosantos and if I've booked the small albergue just before Villafranca Montes des Oca I'll stay there. If I do then I'll walk from there to Cardenuela Rio Pico or stop at San Juan at that fantastic albergue. Frankly I'm spoilt for choice. Ideally I stop and have lunch at the albergue and then walk on for a lete arrival at Cardenuela on thursday. Then I can get to Burgos Friday morning and bus up after lunch to have Friday afternoon in Cafe Iruna in Bilbao, followed by dinner in Santander. Everything leans towards flying back Saturday October 4th. Back for a bit then back over for a trip to Malaga on October 28th scouting Janaury options in Almunecar, before returning November 6th. We plan to stay in Malaga on the first night then 6 nights in Almunecar before heading up to Granada for 2 nights. We're on a tight budget but it seems we can get a place in Malaga for under £80, then £220 for 6 nights and £75 for two nights in Granada. The place in Malaga is by the train station which is handy for the bus to Almunecar. Almunecar is a longer walk but not too bad to the bus station, less than 1km. The bus trips and trains are not too long except the last one when we will get the 9:45 from Granada which arrives at the airport at 11:45 or the 10:15 that arrives 12:30 for our flight at 14:35. The train is the other option but involves a bit of getting off and on and will not be $13.76 a head. £25 for two is a good uber price for 2 hours. Coming in from the airport is simple and we will juump the first train. The next day there are slow and fast buses to Almunecar. The fast bus is at 9 and takes 1 hour 15, while the slower buses are at 11.20 and 12:45 and take an extra 30 minutes stopping at nerja, torre etc. The usual thing is there are options and St Jacques provides. The same applies to the bus on tuesday from almunecar to granada. The fast buses are 1 hour 20 with stops at 9am and 13:00. The 10:45 bus leaves at the best time and arrives probably a good time for getting into the apartment, although the 1pm arriving at 14:20 is probably even better. Leaving the apartment at 10:30-11:30 appeals for a last stroll or a cafe. Then a cafe by the station for the 1pm bus. If however the flat is as superb as we expect we may just stay the entire 10 days and have a day trip to granada. Then we can get up early get the fast bus at 9am and trundle around Granada from 10:20 to 4pm. Being in the mountains the temperature will be lower which may be good or bad. If its 30 at the coast then its respite but if its 12 at night then we have another situation entirely. All this nonsense is about me having too much time to get excited about controlling or managing variables. I often wonder why when I was younger I was so impressionable. Being prepared seemed to be drilled into me or maybe it just found a welcome host. Like the cancer talk, how much was I just a good host for the cancer and hence it developed. Similarly when I was in my rebellious phase I became a lifelong contrarian who keeps calling it out. Its so comprehinsibly off the charts in behavioural analysis is it any wonder I never committed suicide. I always had one more point to make before angrily leaving the stage. When I was younger my suicidal thoughts weren't about not giving another generation a mini me full of anxiety. My suicide was selfishly about making a point when I was backed into a corner, of the show me, I 'll show you. Nowadays with so much more experience when people leave the stage more often than not in their 40's, 50's and 60's, I can only applaud. These people have battled their mental health longer than most, but for me their truth is unique to them and their situation. Its as normal as living in the wrong skin and so ably represented as Kellie Mahoney described Ricky Hatton's career in a voice I only recognised as Frank Mahoney. I know nothing about Frankly Kellie, the book written presumably about Frank becoming Kellie. I applaud the coverage that ensured Kellie's voice was heard at a time when we were commenting on Ricky's mental health. It was hugely emblematic of our times and helped Kellie's comments resonate all the more. I hope it helps all boxing fans and wider society embrace each other. It lead me into how impressionable I was and even now how easily lead I could be into a stark binary choice. Once I was working I developed my ability to see only grey. When I was working I believed there were absolutes but in the main there were more variable than people ever imagined. Its a theory I'd promulgated at University doing Economics over 4 years. I sat the second year exam many times. I refused to let the phillips curve, Laffer curve and a few others be assumed mathematical fact. Each time I'd fail the exam I'd be told I would do that work in 4th year or explore it in a masters or a PHD. I did eventually 'lie', ie present the unexamined 'facts' to pass the exam and get my degree. In truth I felt there were many more unqiue situations when those laws would not apply and over the last 40+ years we've had plenty. I think analysis of the minimum wage encourages a bimodal distribution assessment. There is a squeeze as the lowest paid migrate up and the higher paid migrate down to the minimum wage. The higher paid know they have to get up to the next level or they risk having their wages frozen and being dragged back towards the minimum wage. As I say there are smarter people who studied the subject longer and would be able to postulate more coherent arguments for this growing confusion our society finds itself financially in. The problem with a developing bimodal income distribution means that the wealth concentration just accelerates. Wealth concentration particularly when the passive income from that wealth is not taxed correctly. Whether you're a jobbing contractor or a family trust fund you should pay tax not corporation tax. Ultimately we are all individuals, whether we own a small one person business, run a huge bookies or a few bilion in a family inherited tax wrapper. Its not my job to influence tax policy and I certainly wish it was but I believe there are more qualified voices. I do know back in the day how much I enjoyed it. Explaining simple truths and getting things changed. CREST is the UK's security settlement system. ITs a massive piece of digital infrastructure. Its responsible for £trilliions every year and probably settles £400 million every day. THat's quite a small amount of money changing hands but the whole industry relies on it. Compared to 1984 when there was no infrastructure and the privatisation programme had ground the city's settlement to a halt. I wont bore myself again by recounting how Counterpary risk requirement legislation was brought in to ensure firms like County Nat West with £600million missing needed to have that collateral to continue trading. I tell that story so often. In short, it resulted in the NatWest bank needing to give the broking arm County NatWest the daily shortfall to allow it to trade. The board of Nat West bought Wood Mackenzie as we were the best at settlement. I know as I was there, both before and after university but the story I want to tell today is later. I took a job and a random 10 years later got to explore my economic theories during CREST with the boffins at the Bank of England. They had a user pays mentality and that fitted my psyche. What I needed to do was explain who the hidden users were. It was the first time I'd been involved in the taxation of users for a system. I explored what all the industry participants would benefit from. It was fascinating seeing how easy their heads were being turned from the inital strict criteria they had. Users should pay for the design build and maintenance of the system. That was clear and I agreed non negotiable. What happened next was I introduced who will benefit from the system. Those who benefit are indeed the users but whose gaining most. Who are the chief beneficiaries. Who is price sensitive and who has their hands tied and might indeed be too small to survive. Was the system being designed to get rid of small users who had a build cost of their own to comply. This was one time when I got to fight the corner of the small industry participants whether they be brokers, market makers or registrars. It was a given that the biggest particpants could pay for their interface, from infrastructure build to transaction charging. The crux of the issue for me however was I was now just doing my masters and PHD in front of the Bank of England and the industry. I was asking questions from the audience with banter, and receiving the answer 'you should be up here'. I felt my whole contrarian world of digging deeper than my 2nd year course would let me had finally paid off. It would only be a few years later I would meet the Treasury minister at the Mansionhouse to tell her to sack her speech writer. Angela Knight was not best pleased but she'd been sold a pup by whoever she was briefed. Eddie George had done a much better job at outlining the securuty risk to the UK if the financial system could be so easily corrupted as it had been. I use corrupted when a better description is grind to a halt, but utimately if you want to corrupt a system, grinding it to a halt is good thing. Talisman was a fine system but the users were identical to the users of the Horse Racing industry. They will never come together and agree a way forward. There is far too many ingrained with the belief that the system shouold be bent to them. I suppose that's iherent corruption within the system. I invited the shadow treasury spokesman Alistair Darling a week later to discuss what his constituents would like their employer to be able to do to help divert more wealth to the masses. That's when I realised this New Labour venture was about looking after a new bimodal whilst keeping the wealthy wealthy. A far cry from what I thought he'd done back in his LRC days under Thatcher. I never knew him in those days and I knew already I didn't want to know him now. I passed him onto our traders and let him look at the screens as they went red and blue. The Socialist republic of Stocktrade would have to look elsewhere if they wanted to hand over the factors of production to the workers. That was some couple of weeks and we'd go on to grow organically the firm. Did it improved life for a few or ticked a few boxes, I doubt history will even bother to judge. We enjoyed trying and by the time I'd finished with the city I'd comfortably paid my £1m in tax and was very smug about it. Perhaps my ambition shouldve been to pay £100m in tax. I'm a communist in my thinking. I want to contribute to the pot. I want to maximise the input and output of everyone from their health to their happiness. You dont need wealth, you need a wealthy society. I love that by making Stocktrade grow from £300k to £3m profit we went from paying NI of £40k to £400k, our tax at the end exceeded £1m and personally many of the employees would pay huge sums. I believe strongly in putting money in the kitty in the country I live in. I have never liked when it gets spent on wars and that always results in taxation, getting a bad name. I just wish we had a better word. I enjoyed knowing I had access to use and develop my economic theory. I dont think I'd ever write a book about it, I just keep going of on tangents. So after Pamplona I will climb a hill and witter nonsense to John.

UPDATE FROM LOGROÑO 

I've properly been toiling to eat and also think clearly. I booked Estella for Saturday in my head and Friday in reality. I walked over to puente la Reina then got a bus. I let St Jacques decide and as I rolled into town I knew it would be very tight for the 4pm bus. As I passed the Jakey aka hotel Jakue, I heard it behind me and thought 5:30 it is then. It enabled me to go to the largest ever Larios bar.

I took a few photos had a wine then some tapas in the cafe next to the bus stop. At least at Jacques is feeding me.

The Agora was a good hostel and I'd recommend it. Beds were comfortable and price reasonable. I met a Czechia guy who lives in the Netherlands screwing the bolts on the many solar farms. He liked a drink and I thought I'd lost my key so he let me in. The next morning I found my purse in my pocket. As chilled as I think I am I still know I'm only a moment from a panic. I checked the pocket so many times but these shorts have two pockets and clearly I'd been drinking.

It took me an hour to eat the huevos rotos and chistorra. I am the slowest exhausting eater now.

The next day I again let St Jacques decide via the bus whether I would bus to Los Arcos and walk to sansol or not.

I arrived in Azcueta literally even closer to the bus time and was 20 yards from the stop when I saw the bus hare by. I had had an interesting morning with an American nutter who was missing a stick.

With the decision being up to Monjardin I immediately thought, superb, I won't see the nutter again. Ana the host at the albergue was one of those beautiful old women who just care for you. The more stupid you are, the more she cares. Thanks for a lower bunk, great food and everything including the local guide suggestions.

I got a great picture at the fat end of the town before I got my washing back to hang it up outside where it dried in 40 minutes.

What a vista.

Obviously a few pints while the football was on and after the washing dried.

We had pumpkin soup for dinner lots of it, then I had eggs and sausages. Finally quince with cheese and a walnut. Simple tasty fare washed down with the local Monjardin wine, a joven not a reservation so my throat was fine.

Back up to the pub to leave my hat overnight. Thankfully the danish guys Nikolag, and Frederick, had me covered. While they ate breakfast and I started to grow a panic, they suggested try the bar.

Very easy for them and so difficult for me. I walked up and there it was on the table. 

Honest villamayor monjardin. To be fair they probably just wanted me to collect my rubbish.

It was dark when I walked out. Quickly the sun rose and my legs said run.

I didn't run, I just walked fast like a wee startled rabbit. It was a short trip over and we'll under 3 hours.

One year on from diagnosis

It's been a funny old year.

I walked into the doctor in brougham place and next thing I was off on a year long Camino.

About late June last year I came out of the meeting with the consultant having been advised that next up is tonsils and teeth out at Livingston.

I stopped here on the bench and took in the views. Lovely it was, just like today.

I sat for 10 minutes to let it all sink in. I think my brain works better when I let it digest most kinds of information.

I sat here and thought of nothing. I just felt the warmth of the air, listening to the breeze, the birds, an incessant owl who finally stopped. I knew my brain, it didn't need assistance except for me to be calm, background processing and all that.

I remembered the parting words of the consultant about it being a gruelling journey but we have a lot of success with this type of cancer.

Today he put a camera down my nostril and had a look at my throat. Declared himself happy and I was too.

It's funny how the little confirmations that come post treatment provide reliable reinforcement to a general feeling of well being, albeit now distinctly different from before.

In the back of my mind I heard the party starting. I only had two blood uncles,  both died before 60. Not sure if both were throat cancers, one was. Luck is everything but like me they were both alcoholics and who knows what the granddads died of 20 years before I was born. The both died in the 1940's.

The consultant kept chatting.

No saliva, just get used to it. You notice it less and as a diet aid it's undoubtedly useful. You were quite heavy when you arrived so for your knees in layer life best you keep it off as I see you're already 2kgs heavier. I laughed as soon as I can stop force feeding myself I'll be delighted. He said yes, stop, you couldve stopped in February. I really wanted to kiss him. This was the best news yet. I just need to have enough to tick the fuel box. Trust me, I'm delighted I said. I'm off to Spain and I'll be 3kgs lighter when I get back. I'll eat tapas and largely avoid the 3 course meals. I never did snack, I just ate constantly. Nowadays I just don't want to eat.

I explained how red wine goes down. I'll persevere, but the truth is, my lack of saliva makes a drunk's drouth at daybreak splash like Niagara falls in comparison. A wee tippy Tapa will be chewed for 20 minutes and that is more than enough for me.

When I'd first been advised I let them know about my alcohol intake. On most scales I'd qualify for alcoholic status. I'm a daily habitual drinker. The only aspect of my alcoholism that separates me since 1986 seems to be how open I am about it. However, I honestly rank it, in my head, behind giving the NHS a decent patient to deal with, sadly behind preventative diseases like cirrhosis of the liver. A warped but conventional common issue. I do enjoy going out for a few, it's great craic, I just need to do it less than I do. In Spain you can be really happy drinking coffee.

I had a genuine reason to curtail my drinking, so guess what, I did. I joked about finishing my wine cellar before treatment but the truth is, my cellar never really got full. The closest I ever got to a full cellar was when I got a delivery from Spain of 12 unique and magnificent Mencia from the Bierzo.

Like having 12, hidden in a drawer, 50g pouches of tobacco, it proved false economy. Like the wine, I think the tobacco lasted 10 days.

So, last year, when I went to drain the swamp, that was my cellar, there were only two bottles. I made them last two weeks but that was that. Well, until the albergue in Los Arcos this week.

I know my drinking is now different, like everything else. I'm embarking, like many before me, as I did without my 50g pouches of Drum tobacco, on another Camino, another new journey.

I've had to kiss another moustache'eod auntie. For family members, yes it's Noreen. She's an inspiration for withdrawing from anything you enjoy doing.

It's an adventure and St Jacques will provide. Jackie always does. 

Government is trying to get busy on another subject that involves a lot less people than regarding poverty, looking after workers in health and education, never mind reforming the local electricity pricing, upping the tax threshold, to name a few. Like the transgender issue, it's very important, it's a very detailed and difficult devate. I do think governments are elected to create mechanisms to resolve issues, not to park the bus and talk about one thing.

Politicians on the other hand see a job to get the country talking about stuff they never realised they had a strong opinion on.

The assisted dying debate will rage and another test for the fine work of Dr Kaitlyn Regehr's theories regarding polarisation. Personally I think her theory will be proved right again. I think this debate is currently calm. I think it will slowly become toxic. If it does, it proves that along with the DK theory I'm always mentioning, we don't have enough to stem the tide. Happily the planet will look after itself while we the species do migrate, possibly even vibrate to the loudest noises, the strongest hands while morphing beautifully into that ugly likeness, cue fat Al on his NotSo FatSo Camino look, begging for your cash.

I was singing away on the Camino today, London Calling, it was. I thought how brilliant the marketing of the cold war fear, that artist started to rebel and sing songs. I wrote the "penny drops as the mushroom rises" as a metaphor "for my failure to recognise my behaviour" until it was too late. To use the metaphor of a nuclear bomb was fairly standard in 1982. We all believed it to be a real threat. We were preoccupied with it and many movements from CND, greenham common etc allowed people to find their voice. Disappearing down rabbit holes isn't new for humanity. From religious wars to the bigotry of an old firm derby, we find it easy to join a party. Nowadays you could argue stop oil are fighting for the planet but the truth is, we know the planet is fine. It will evolve and humans won't. We'll be the catalyst to destroy so much of the living globe, as we see it, from mountain top to sea bed.  From sea bed to mountain top is what I did the other day, that was really too tough to mention again, but I have.

So today I am out again on the Camino. I have to rediscover my fitness. To put it more accurately, I have to start at the beginning again. My paternal role model is now 92 and closing in on 93. He's clearly evidence of a genetic disorder, in Spain it's called manana.

I know I can't be bothered doing anything to build my fitness up again. My Dad could've done two rounds of golf at 80, by 85 he was struggling to climb stairs and by 90 found it best not to. It's an inspiring role model as we all know its just around the corner. 

We build fitness over a long period and can lose it in 6 short weeks. Physios know this but we don't ever acknowledge how quickly it really is to ourselves.

My Dad got a new hip in 2018/19. It was the financial year when many hips were replaced in Edinburgh and preceded the one when a lot less were done. Hindsight let's you see how things pan out and I know I lost my fitness really quick during treatment. I'd imagine if I'd been 85 not 61 it would have been terminal. Many cancer patients find it difficult to find it inside themselves to go through the rehab. I'm just another lazy guy thinking he's had a tough year.

Luckily I have my Dad as an inspiration. I know if I don't get out I'll stop. 

Luckily Stuart has inspired me to do it. Considering how much he and Ian shared a love of lying in the sun, he doesn't always lie down. Stu displays a powerful truculence that I admire. It's not just difficult, it's seemingly impossibly hard. You have to summon up courage from the deepest depths. It's not easy, it is inspirational.

Luckily I've been instructed by people to say, "aye, you lie in your bed if you want to....."

When I was in Assynt with Rich and Fran, I found nothing in my legs. I had to stop regularly. It was enough to make me want to take up drinking full time again and start the cheerio messages. 

I can't thank them enough for being so brilliant in putting up with me.

On the way up to see them, on my free bus pass, I'd stopped at pitlochry to see Tom and Sandra. Likewise they put up with me. I got to record my Cancer song, I'm not standing still. Truth is, I really wanted to stand still. I just knew I was a dead man walking. People suspected the worst when I was neither walking nor talking. Couldn't really be bothered with either to be fair. You stop looking for inspiration and roll effortlessly into self pity. You hear yourself shouting give yourself a shake, but it's not happening.

You can hear the clock ticking and see the lights on the runway. You're ready for take off, no doubt about it, until you realise where you're going.

I've a album of songs I call the rabbit hole experiment. Caitlin inspired it with one of her plays and it leans right into Dr Kaitlyn Regehr's work which I caught 15 minutes of.

It's got a song I do twice, like Caroline says on Berlin. I love it. Relax, it will never be heard or forced on anyone.

It's from the dawn of time about how we are all thrown down the rabbit hole. From the Nature v Nurture debate, spoiler alert nature wins on side one but nurture triumphs on side two.

Evolution tracks the old media of the stage, through the films of the 20's-40's and sets the scene for side two.

It was Politic, tells the gentle story of control using the "voice of choice"

Fuel is full of fun and the wonderful way "we welcome to the feast, our..... new year beast"

Let's face it, everyone needs a new entity to hate, well at least that's what you think it is.

"Healthy body, corrupted mind" is an old style discussion on atrophy in the brain. Spoiler alert again, it's not genetic.

"The mushroom treatment" closes the album. We all now wish we were mushrooms is the sentiment.

I'm sure it's all old hat but it keeps me walking and talking.

Last night in the albergue in Los Arcos was fantastic.

One of the things the Cancer has given me is perspective. I've always looked at things from funny angles.

In fact some of my pictures are extremely strange.

Today's lightbulb moment was history.

Why do we get nothing but this king did this and that.

We have had a go at telling the soldier's tale and we occasionally get a workers movement but very little history related to the vast majority of us. It pertains to hand picked celebrities from the past.

I'm not sure what my point is but it's about marketing really. We only know what we are taught. If we are taught about good kings or bad ones we are not taught about our role in it. Revolution is largely ignored as you don't want that on the curriculum of your serfs. It's bad enough they even go to school.once there it's important we control what they learn.

Jimmy and I have had long discussions on his schooling during the 60's as people were bred for the factory gate.

The curriculum really reflected the skills shortages.

I suppose if I read books I would've discovered it before. I do wonder how much those who commission work for TV, films and the stage just play to this narrative.

Maybe in amongst Shakespeare's works there's more about the ordinary lives than I knew but I can't help thinking his plays were written for an audience.

During the 80's we had so many auf weidersein pets but maybe there is a lot more and I'm just blind. I like a detective story but we now have about 100 celebrity series where the star status is duly awarded. I just know what I like and sometimes find myself explaining why I like the Camino. It really is an every person story.

I say this largely when I know what I like happens. I know with Caitlin's play about the victims of Bible John, the voice of "I just love the dancing" resonated for me. Know what ah mean.

I like Vera, sandy dramas, Shetland etc but really, can we not do something creative with real people. Does it take the post office scandal to produce an every person tale.

Alphonse X put that beautiful cathedral up😂.