Bloody as hell

My friend and I tried to recreate our Basque country adventure tonight by making a cider house-like dinner. Well, she made dinner; I just showed up an hour late with some bread. Whatever. It's hard to get good steak in Barcelona. (Well, that's what I'm told anyway. I didn't even help with the shopping. I suck.) But still, we had cod and big pieces of very rare beef and cheese and walnuts and cidre. Very good. No singing or bread throwing or Basque boys with unpronounceable names, though.

And we started planning our next trip to that area, which will be on foot in September as part of the Camino de Santiago, a religious pilgrimage across northern Spain. We're not religious, but it's a cheap way to keep traveling and it's supposed to be beautiful and life-changing, even for heathens. I'm also hoping to lose some weight. Anyway, we decided that we don't need sleeping bags or wide-brimmed hats, and confirmed that we'll be starting from Roncesvalles in the Pyrenees. This may be even more half-assed than the Croatia trip was, but still, progress was made.