Thomas enjoyed another day off in Galicia this time, starting with a coffee and a short stroll to the beach for the final burn. The beach was deserted and he wondered why. He got the sense and the smell that something unpleasant was lurking. It was then he noticed a sewage plant just over the wall and relocated to the next bay where bathers started to arrive.
Although the temperature rose to around 30’, the sun didn’t seem that strong to Thomas as the Atlantic breeze cooled him down. It was later when Thomas returned to the camp and looked in the mirror to find a glowing face peering back at him like a belicia beacon and sore to touch. He wasn’t looking forward to an uncomfortable nights sleep nor putting his helmet on the morning after. As the afternoon progressed, the camp site field became busier consisting of mostly the Qencho tents. Maybe some sort of exhibition, he thought. ‘No’ they were genuine campers. Thomas counted 23 Quencho tents in one field and his own Hilleberg which still seemed to be attracting the ants, flying ones that is. Thomas went to sleeping thinking it was the tents red colour that attracted them.
An early night that night in p[reparation for an early start heading into the Pico’s and then onto Santander on the Monday.