Sept 23 - Tamal/Portela

The roads divide, I follow the gravel track to the left, sit at the church with a cat watching me, and try to decide.  Turns out both roads lead to the albergue.  While I'm walking down the stairs to go wash my laundry, a woman waves at me through the glass.  She doesn't realize that she could've walked in.  She hands me a large shopping bag full of apples.  Beautiful, perfect apples, not the leftovers picked off of the ground.  I take them into the hospitaleros.  I end up eating 3 of them, because they were a gift.  They taste wonderful, tart and juicy.  I'm usually too lazy to eat fruit.  Don't ask, makes no sense to me either, but it's the best explanation I can come up with.  I eat a lot of vegetables, and I cook them, which admittedly involves more labor, go figure.  The restaurant mentioned in the guidebook doesn't exist today, only option is a bar futher up the road a bit. I order a pizza, it looks too large to finish by myself and I try to get Michel to eat some, but I end up consuming the entire pie.