Dear blister gods, why do you hate me so? I’m writing this with bloodstained socks. We woke up early this AM and went straight to the to the grocery store, knowing that we wouldn’t have anything to eat for 17.5 km or 10 miles on today's camino. The woman working there was pretty rude. I asked about any gluten-free options, and she responded with a quick and sure ‘no.’ Even when I showed her the bag of cookies I found in one of the aisles that clearly stated ‘Gluten Free,’ she said they weren’t. My Greek mom, minutes after asked if she spoke any English, and again she responded with a quick 'no.’ My mom then asked her if she was a nice person, and she responded (with no surprise), 'no!’ My mom then said, “I already knew that.” I nearly peed my pants watching this scene before my eyes. I realized Spaniards might hate us (pilgrims). Bridgette (you will hear more about her later) told us this is due to pilgrims having a history of being rude and offensive and even knocking on doors at 6 AM to use villager’s restrooms. I’d probably be annoyed with us too.

Our abergue didn’t have breakfast. The owner says it’s because there aren’t as many pilgrims in the fall, so it’s not worth it for her. It was freezing out .. My phone read 30°. We stopped by a bar for coffee to get out of the cold, and because we needed some caffeine and calories. Today wasn’t too eventful. We stopped about 7 miles into a bar and bought some delicious ham and sheep's cheese (€5) that is from a local farm. The road was extremely rocky and give us both blisters. I know I keep saying this, but I’m over the roads being rocky and/or parallel to freeways. I want dirt, soil, mountainous terrain, not man made foot-killing paths.