The Mighty Face Flannel

Ford Prefect almost got it right when he advised Arthur Dent that a towel was the most important thing to take with him, but personally I’d always take a face flannel if space or weight were restricted. The flannel has proved its worth time and again: you can wash with limited water supplies, e.g. using a bucket; if you want to wash in a cold stream it limits the amount of cold water splashed around and you stay warmer; in a shower where you have only 3 pushes, it adds flexibility; and of course, if you wring it out, you can use it as a towel, so Arthur would have ben fine.

There is a risk. Would you like a lift?

Spending a couple of months walking 800km solo across the Pyrenees brings with it the odd risk, but I’ve done what I can to reduce with the risks I know about. The only thing I’m not sure how to deal with is bears, but I read a leaflet last night that said stand up tall and don’t run, so even bears may be covered now.

Today I stopped, as I do from time to time, to consult the guidebook and see where I should be heading. As I was reading, I was warned by a random Spanish walker that the route I was about to take was very risky. When it became obvious that I couldn’t understand anything he said, he called his wife over to translate into French, but it still wasn’t clear exactly what he thought the risk was. He was so concerned about the unspecified risk though, that he suggested I descend a different way and he’d drive me to wherever I wanted to go!

The first orage

When I first arrived in Lescun on Thursday, I met an American couple outside the post office, who told me that England had drawn their third match of the World Cup and been knocked out. I don’t know whether that was an honest mistake or a wind-up, but it wasn’t until Klaas showed me the results in his paper that I discovered the truth. If I was near a bookie’s I’d bet my tent on the Germans beating us on penalties.