Sleepytime Symphony In S*** Major

If I were a famous composer and wanted to WOW the world with the greatest symphony of all time, the piece would sound exactly like our night spent in the Monreal albergue. I should mention, though, before I go on that in this hypothetical scenario I am not just any celebrated composer, but am the musical director for the Orchestra For The Damned in HELL.

Now, I'm no connoisseur of classical music, but if I were to substitute certain sections of the orchestra with what mom and I suffered through Tuesday night in a small room filled with 20 other pilgrims, here's what they would be:

Brass - From exclamatory trumpet snores to nasally horn snores to deep, rumbling tuba snores, I believe there was at one time approximately seven different layers of snoring wafting through the air like the smell of sulfur in Hades.

Woodwind - Three French women (mom and I have another name for them, but I'll leave that to your imagination) decided that they would overlook the fact that there were others in the room trying to sleep and would giggle and gossip like teenagers the entire night. "Tee-hee tee-hee tee-hee" went their piccolos and flutes. Then there was the cougher filling in for the bassoon. The farting - or 'breaking wind' - of the man in the bunk next to mine falls in this section, as well.

Percussion - The Wood Block role went to the intermittent tapping of trekking poles against the wooden bunk beds as the aforementioned French women attempted to wake up the worst snoring offenders. The more delicate brushes of the snare drum were replaced by the constant shushing by others in an attempt to silence the French women. The bass drum is most certainly the sound of people from the upper bunks landing with a thud as they got up for bathroom runs. The cymbal was taken up by the loud crash of glass as someone at about midnight broke a wine bottle in the kitchen.

Keyboard - The three women didn't stop there. They also decided another good way to wake up a snorer is with a 'click click click' of their tongues, which I'm pretty positive if I had examined them would have been found to be forked.

Vocals - Should the orchestra be accompanying a duet, the soprano and tenor would be the bicyclist couple who woke up about 3:30am and decided to have a full blown and extremely audible conversation as they packed up their gear. Should this be an opera, the villain - bass singer - ushering in the melodrama would be the Spanish gentleman having nightmares resulting in his screaming out broken sentences periodically throughout the night (which, of course, caused the French women to giggle some more.)

Audience - The restless audience readjusting and squirming in their seats would be the constant creaking of the bunk beds as people tossed and turned in their sleep or, as in my case, in their state of sleepLESSness.

Strings - No string section, because if there were, I would have tied said strings into a noose and would not be writing to you now.

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iPhone pics from Monreal to Puente la Reina.


From a French "Bon Courage!" to a Spanish "Buen Camino".


On this grueling 19-mile, 90-degree heat day with barely a shade tree in sight, I focused on the water just to mentally cool myself down for a few yards.





Barren times.


Rewarded at the end of our hardest day with... PRODUCTS! A pilgrim's treasure trove.

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Location:Hotel Jakue, Puente La Reina,Spain