Back to Tavira . . .

After eight days away, it's good to be back at the Youth Hostel, my Tavira home.

Monte Palmira was special, a piece of paradise, and the practically perfect job, walking two very friendly dogs, a little firewood collecting, reading Tich Nhat Hahn, talking with Jane about the Sangha and life in general.

This morning, with Look returning from Thailand today, the job is over, and I'm wandering to Tavira. At Luz station, bump into George, a Swiss farmer living in the Ardeche region of France. He's on holiday and having walked here from Tavira to see the church, settles for a look at the photo I just took and walks back with me.

So, it's an hour and a half along the cycle track, some philosophy, learning about his plans for walker accommodation on the farm, serving a new green route nearby . . . maybe running the path across his land.
Into town and continue the conversation over lunch. . . and on to politics and some divergence of opinion over the causes of the crisis . . . with specific reference to the French resistance to reducing government jobs, pensions and all the other medecine prescribed by the bankers.

Back at the hostel, Diana tells me about the comings and goings in the past week and the current residents, three of whom are English. More about them tomorrow.