Virginia  and I had breakfast together, and a friend of hers, originally from Venezuela, joined us.  He is now living in Madrid and he had driven up, to walk the Camino, with Virginia , for a couple of days.  At breakfast, there was some talk of a tall, lanky, young French guy, called Victor.  He is bumming his way around the caminos and the monks had not been at all keen to let him stay for free, or at all.  However, he had managed to inveigle his way in, but, strangly enough,Virginia could not remember meeting him, the night before.

I let the two friends go ahead and we said our goodbyes, with promises to keep in touch.  The way was well signposted with camino arrows, and I had a wonderful day’s walking, under clear blue skies, along the Roman road, with the original bridges still intact,

first to Aldea del Cano and then Valdesalor.

In Valdesalor, I got the key to the albergue municipal, from a very friendly lady in the bar, in the square, and shortly after, settled in to do my washing and relax.  I was later joined by Benito (Bene), a fellow pilgrim, who had stayed in the monastery the previous evening.  I was just about to leave for a tour of town (ten minutes walking slowly), when a loud knock came to the door and it was none other than Victor, all smiling teeth and dreadlocks.  He was hoping to gain direct entry, hence circumventing the need of going to the bar and paying the fee of 6€.  I had no problem with this proposal, but Bene, a middle aged Spaniard from Huelva, could not countenance it at all.  However, he managed to deal with his animosity by refusing to acknowledge the fact that Victor was there.  I left Victor, ransacking the kitchen cupboards in search of the ingredients for dinner, and went back to the bar.  He joined me there later and we had an excellent evening.