I don´t know how I can write today down,- we´ve done 7 times yesterdays distance but the road´s been much better.

The smell of rotting figs wafting heavy in the thick breeze, rolling bruised with approaching thunder after us, pushing us onwards.

After posting a letter, stocking up on tobacco, water and caffeine in Celorico da Beira (even, shamefully, finding out the price of a hostel!)
We´d hardly left the town in the pissing rain when we headed doen a littledirt track in the hope of finding a little bit of field to pitch up in- but ahead was a little asbestos covered shelter with open sides and straw on the ground.

Farmhouse was visible, though, and we were in full view of the track, so Graham took me to ask ´Nos podemos dormir aqui?´ Once all 3-plus generations and the dogs had come out to look at me, they enthusiastically agreed that although it was the other farmers barn, it would definately be absolutely fine for us to sleep in there.

Which is why me and Hannah were so suprised when as we were setting down to cook a nice meal, to the tune of thunder and tuneful churchbells, a car pulled up and a policeman got out.

Shit.

I cautiously approached him- "Boa tarde Senor..."

He asked if we were planning on sleeping here, and I gabbled something about having spoken to the family... He must have seen the panic in my eyes and he laughed, told us it was fine- he´s just locking the gate and what time would we like it opened by in the morning?

I laughed with relief, got a friendly pat on the back and wished good luck and good night.

I´m expecting to get woken up by curious kids or rats so I better get some shut-eye. Goodnight! x