Brilliant sleep in the church, apart from snoring German lady. A really nice walk through the mountains which is a nice change from the last couple of weeks where it's just been farmland. I stopped for an hour to read and realised that i have developed a new taste for bread with butter and jam. It's funny because i've NEVER liked sweet things on bread before. I'm sitting in the sun reading a Jeffery Deaver book i picked up at another Albergue. It's about a murderous magician. Anyway, I hear a pilgrim arrive and look around to see the original leche, the one i was trying to avoid a couple of weeks ago. Turns out his name is Ignacio (said: icknathyo). Spent a good part of the evening talking to the Hospitalero about the difference between buenas and bien (two different words for good which i can't distinguish the difference between).