Mindful of my recent high cholesterol rating, Bossman made me bacon butties for breakfast today, telling me that I needed the energy to go for a walk. As it was overcast and cooler, I thought "why not?" I left home with the intention of breaking myself in gently by walking for 15 minutes, then turning round and walking back, but 15 minutes later I found myself on the cliff top at Caleta. Rather than turn round, I continued on down the slope, and cut through to the main road, crossing to the far side to face the oncoming traffic. As I approached the Youth hostel, I became aware of a tinkling sound combined with a steady ding, ding, ding, and looked up the hill to see a carosse pulled by two ponies and a mule in tandem. Further up the hill, just disappearing around the bend, was another. Hoping to catch up with them, I put on a spurt, and soon drew level with an old man carrying 4 shopping bags full of bread on the other side of the road. Just as I got up to him, he put the bags down, put his fingers in his mouth and whistled, shouted something unintelligible and then set off again. 50 metres further on, he repeated his whistle, and I realised he was trying to attract the attention of the carosse driver. I gave him a questioning look, and he told me that he had nipped into Mercadona to get bread for their lunch, and he was supposed to be picked up after the carts had negotiated the dual carriageway and roundabout, but somehow or other they had missed him. I suggested that maybe they would wait for him on the layby further up the road, where they would not hold up the traffic, but he didn't look too hopeful. As I pulled ahead of him, he had put down his bags and was trying to hitch a lift. I didn't catch up with the end of the caravan, but the tail back of traffic was growing longer. This stretch of road has a solid white line for the best part of 5 kilometres, and passing places are few and far between! I only saw two of the carts, but usually there are 10 to a dozen of them in line, travelling slowly around the area in the Summer, camping out under the stars at night, and visiting the local villages as they celebrate their Fiesta days. Our fishermen are celebrating this week, so they were probably getting over an evening of jollification. I am guessing that these were probably the group that are based up in Benissa.

I got home to tell my tale; in one piece, without aches and pains and breathing easily, even after a tough uphill walk at a brisk pace, so maybe I am not as unfit as I thought. Bracket asked if maybe I could make a cart for Pointy Kitty to pull. I'm not sure that I am up to that, but I could maybe make him some saddle bags..