The final campsite was a rural affair. Shaded by olive trees and a difficult pitch to say the least. Next to me was this ‘hobo’ of a bloke who seemed to have a bivvy tent, a couple of nylon quick dry outfits and a pair of trainers to his name. Nice fella but in the morning he did several press-ups, rubbed a stick vigorously with his hands and then ate part of a cured meat stick thing. Seemed happy enough. I think he went walking all day. Maybe, dunno.
Me? I was surrounded by a thousand hanging things! You can’t put stuff on the ground as animals decide to eat them. Unless its the locals of course.
