We're staying in Ages for the night. We've been driven here by taxi, sorted out by the lovely lady at the Bocateria.
We arrived at Agés, which, again, is a one horse town, with only a donkey, instead of a horse.
As the pictures show, this is a town/village fallen on hard times. Without the Camino, I'm not sure this place would still exist.

This is Brendan and PJ from Ireland. PJ, on the left, asked us where we were from. He misheard it as Woking and started talking about the Jam. Then we got into an interesting dialogue about Punk bands, Rory Gallagher, the Stranglers and our like of Van Morrison's music but dislike of him as a human being. We also realised that we had seen the Waterboys at Cropredy by recognising their only hit. PJ has walked the the Camino 5 times and his Spanish is non existent.
Then Paul and Rose arrived after the Irish guys left. We had an interesting chat about Warhorse and how the Chief Puppeteer was from Port Elizabeth, where Rose and Paul live.
The meal provided by this bar was the menu of the day which should have included red wine and water. Unfortunately the guy serving us, probably the husband of the brains behind the outfit, was from the Basil Fawlty School of Hospitality and we missed out on the drinks. No big deal as we had (possibly just me) been drinking all afternoon. It was vegetable soup of the Minestrone persuasion plus chicken and rice and mystery meat and rice for Ruth, followed by rice pudding, which was delicious.
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