I don't have the heart for this
“Oh good grief, not again”. Four days, four bloody days and I was still suffering. This was my twelfth day on the GR7 in Andalusia and it wasn’t going so well. My guidebook was useful only as toilet paper and the trail markings were, how to put it politely, shite, that’s what they were, total shite. To make my experience of getting lost twice a day so much better I got food poisoning. Monday morning, I was up and ready to roll at 06.30, still dark but the stars meant a cle