After the blow out at the Parador we have been forced to cut back on camp site fees and instigated an emergency programme of compulsory wild camping until financial order is restored. It's a game of Russian Roulette. The first night we swept into the glorious cul de sac of San Juan de Ortega bt sunset. A pilgrim on a mandolin led us to a perfect picnic bench in the shadow of the convent and 50m from a bar. Last night we thought we had found another perfect pitch, 5km beyond Burgos next to a children's playground in landscaped gardens within a new as yet unoccupied urban development. It was all very peaceful until 5am when a dozen sprinklers concealed in the lawns burst into life all around our tent. The only saving grace was we there wasn't one actually in the tent. Today we gave thanks for the incredible drying power of the sun. Who knows what tonight will bring.
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