I have developed a respect for people who can blog while travelling. So much has happened and I don't even know how to begin putting it into words. By Pamplona we had become part of a very solid camino family.
Graham and Anto - two best friends from Ireland. 
Graham our commander general, a driven & ambitious individual with a heart of gold under his no nonsense exterior. Anto a well balanced counterpart with a heart to match Graham's, except hers is embroidered on her sleeve in neon thread you can see from space. 
I am confident that it was the tone created by the two of them that kept such a large group of us together for so long. Sadly we lost Anto to the real world in Burgos when she returned home, and no word of a lie, Graham is now at the very least, 200km ahead of us. We have reconnected with other members of the family in the journey from Burgos to Leon. Sara - from New Mexico, smashing out 30 days and going for a run in the evening. 
Roly from Montana, our camino heart & soul. One of the most genuine people I've ever had the honour to meet, with an appreciation for life I find remarkable for a 21 year old. 
James, a fashionably handsome Irish father figure who pushes himself forward through affliction after affliction. 
One morning we met James while we were waiting to catch a bus through an industrial area and in the blistering heat, James himself elected to tip along and walk the distance. He has shown us kindness and wisdom at every turn, and the custom of "morning brandy" which I will never do again in my life, especially before walking 25k lol. Taj & Ardith, a brother and sister who embody the spirit of the camino. Those of you who are familiar with the trail should know the emergency shack at the top of the high road from St. Jean. They spent the night there. Ardith pushed herself until a doctor told her she couldn't anymore, she is such a strong person, and had a permanent smile at the end of every day. Taj is capturing photos of the camino that make his trip appear to be straight out of national geographic & he's rocking 25-30k now. And Tom, our dearest Tom. Like a phantom he comes and goes from our camino, and it is always Christmas to see him. We lost him in Los Arcos & recollected him 5 days later. We lost him again and then in the city of Burgos I recognized him sans backpack by the back of his head. A man of few words and many thoughts. The type who saves his words for profound or hilarious proclamations. We are glad to know and have met them all.
We have had guest appearances as well. While walking with Tom, Anto and Roly we came across a little stand with a seasoned pilgrim (10 caminos+) who awaited passing pilgrims in order to give advice. Here we met Carlos for the first time. 
As Roly translated the conversation Carlos was having with the wise pilgrim it became apparent we were English. Carlos flashed us a trademark smile and a quick English greeting. Our paths connected for the next couple of days and as we had separated from Anto & Graham (who had to book it to Burgos) we eventually became adopted by Carlos and the group of Italians he was travelling with. Carlos, from Barcelona is hard to define. The duality. He is part spirited youth from the Spanish urban music scene and part hopeless wanderer like ourselves. 
Like many on the camino, he has a greater perspective of the world than the world can accommodate, but I am confident he will one day find where he is going.
We drunkenly stumbled to Burgos with our band of Italians until a) Carlos had to return home and b) Natasha was nearly kidnapped and shipped off to Italy via shotgun wedding by an admirer.
The beginning of the Meseta after Burgos was a struggle for me. 
I have not had a decent waist strap since the beginning and have walked all but four days in my crocs. Then I got sick. 2 days after I'd walked with a fever, one of my shoulder straps had torn and been refastened in a knot, and I walked through the bottom of my crocs. Until this point we had missed only 5km of camino. I struggled to put my hiking shoes on over blisters and when the tears came Natasha said enough was enough, we could skip forward as my need for equipment was no longer negotiable.
I am grateful for her, for reassuring me and not having any animosity towards me for needing to taxi ahead. She has been strong from the start and I know she'd have had no problem doing the entire Meseta.
So flash forward to Sahagun.
We find Kurt again! Kurt our dear friend we met in the first town after Burgos who shares our love for music and disdain for mucous (we all have the same cold). Kurt from SLO California, Kurt the washboard player & drummer from the Mother Corn Shuckers. Kurt, our angel of the desert, who came singing down the path in the middle of no where (as we sought shelter from a urine soaked bush) and gave us positive mojo we needed to knock out a 25km day. Kurt who has such a lust for life he said himself he needs at least 450 years to get everything done. 
Kurt who we vow to visit on his birthday in Cali.
As we lunch with Kurt we learn they're running the bulls in Sahagun that evening.
Juanjo, standing in the street dressed in the colors of his neighbourhood (as is customary during this festival) strikes up a conversation with us in English and encourages our group to follow him to a better viewpoint. 
So we do, and we watch the bulls run the streets of Sahagun. Then Juanjo beckons us to follow him into the plaza the bulls of run to. So we join his neighbourhood in the stands and watch the civilians in the pit try their luck with various bulls.
Don't ask me what was in the water, but an hour later, Natasha is in the bull pen. I wish I'd had enough use of my legs to join her lol.
Juanjo asks us where we head to in the morning. We say Leon as I need new shoes and a new backpack. Juanjo is from Leon and tells us to meet him at the cathedral at 2pm and he will show us the city.
Does he ever.
At two PM a sharply dressed Juanjo meets us in the square and takes us to his car, which is of course an Audi.
He takes us to lunch and shows us the interior of a luxury hotel that used to be a jail, complete with a display of ancient roman tombstones. & then we're off to the countryside to spend the rest of the day touring vineyards, Oruja (May have spelled that wrong) and cider factories, all of which were closed but elected to open their doors for the Canadian peregrinas.
That night over dinner Juanjo asks if we'd like to join him in Grijon as he has work to do in Astoria (a gorgeous coastal mountain area north of Leon). For the record, Juanjo is a livestock geneticist who knows virtually every cattle farmer in a 300km radius of Leon through a company called World Wide Sires (we have toques). So off we go for a rest day in Grijon. Which turns out to be a paradise.
Juanjo is a remarkable individual. Look up "host" and you will see his picture. He threw us the keys to his beach apartment and went about his business. 
We eventually had to implore the importance of returning to the camino as we are pretty sure he would have let us stay with him forever. Juanjo our dear friend we are so thankful for all of your kindness.
So here we are, awaiting the next chapter of this surreal experience.
What a fantastic and hart warming blog. Thanks for the kind comments and the short but lifetime lasting memories. Although I thought when we first met in Orrison "O god, Ed Sheeran fans in, lets avoid them" I was so wrong and was quickly put in my place of never judge a book by its cover. One thing that makes me smile is the short few weeks we spent pub crawling from town to town, laughing at silliest of things like! (When I called my friend Jonny i said "la gente está muy loca"), the banter and the shared knowledge of life's mishaps, the regret i have is having to abandon my adopted Camino family in Burgos. We all know walking alone is good for the spirit, but spending the evening with open honest and down to earth people like yourselves and all of the crew is just as important and those are the lasting memories I'll have from my Camino. And who'd of though, Pink Duct Tape could solve so much of life's problems. I'm sure our paths will cross again but until than fellow pilgrims, Buen Camino, Your Da Graham
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