Amigos, I spent the last few days on the beach in Faro, Portugal. I was going to start work on the new Camino Invierno guide down there, and I was going to catch up on the backlog of New Yorker magazines I´ve built-up. But really I did very little but walk on the big white sand beach and talk with Filipe and Dick, two of my favorite old friends. (We ate, too. Portuguese food, especially in a fishing village, is absolutely superb; we made significant inroads on the local shellfish population and the green wine supply as well.) It was very very nice. It was downright decadent, really. I shall have to go back there soon.
Yesterday I made the long journey back to Moratinos, and discovered on my arrival that our internet connection is down, and no one knows why... all the equipment is working just fine, but the computers just won´t recognize there´s a signal out there. And so I write this from an internet café in Sahagun. We await the arrival on Monday of David, our Dutch friend and IT engineer, the only person who knows how to make our particular network work.
And so this is brief.
Be patient with me. These are deep mysteries, beyond our understanding and control.
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