What happened to Eddie next:

So what did happen to Eddie Rock?

You mean Eddie Rock the author of ‘The sinners guide to the Camino De Santiago. Yes him, that one! Well I shall tell you.

Eddie Rock went on the Camino de Santiago over ten years ago in search of salvation of his many sins!  Then decided to write a  comedy story based on his own adventures and misadventures. Yeah big deal! Loads of people write books on the camino anyway so what! Yeah so what!

It’s what happened to Eddie afterwards that is the best story of all...

For some reason whilst growing up in crap weather Britannia i had always wanted to go to ‘Sunny Spain’.’Viva Espana’ sang the Dutch singer in the 70’s It sounded a fantastic place.  But even after reaching the ripe old age of 33 and having gone as far afield as Australia, Canada and The middle east i had still not touched down on Spanish soil. Well it was shame on me ! and quite literally.

A chance encounter with a beautiful Irish hippy girl and an unfortunate brush with the law had me questioning life’s complexities and time to ask the celestial powers that be ‘Just what the feck is going on here? Why are we here? Will someone tell me? Preferably not a strange celebate man in a black and white outfit. But anyway religion aside i needed to go for a very long walk and get my head together! So i joined the long march of the happy the sad and those inbetween and set off walking from the French Pyrenees to the fair city of Santiago de Compostela in the beautiful region of Galicia. And did it do me any good? At the time no! I did not feel any different that when i’d started and whilst i’d been away my problems had been mounting up. ?

Goodbye England! Hola Espana…

The ferry journey was boring as hell the food was crap and expensive and i met no one remotely interesting. 

So i got drunk! Twice!  and lost quite a lot of money playing slot machines. Welcome to my life! I am the sinner Eddie Rock!

The call for motorists to go immediately to their vehicles was my call to action. I had been dreading this moment from the off as my van could often on starting  create  a startling smoke screen worthy of cinematic merit, thus signalling to everyone in the area that there was a nugget in their mist! Thankfully i disembarked without carbon monoxide poisoning the whole of the lower decks! Hallelujah things are looking up! 

Quickly through customs and out into the streets of Santander, Hung over and quickly realizing that i have a blind spot that makes city driving a game of wacky Russian roulette. Stressed mind says quickly get out of the city!

As per usual i hadn’t planned where i was going, what i was doing or anything, all i had was a name and number in my diary of a man called John Bottril  in Galicia that was offering me accommodation and food in exchange for a few hours a day work on some scheme called ‘Helpex’ that i had not even heard of! . The following day I arrived in the small village of Ruitalan on the  border of Leon and Galicia. I paid homage to the small pilgrims hostal there and gave thanks yet again to hosteleros Luis and Carlos who had once helped me many moons ago with a miraculous healing! I still am amazed to this very day! But if it wasn’t for those to guys there would have only been two sinners guides in the world instead of three! They couldn’t remember me as over as 8 years had passed and probably a few million pilgrims but Luis made me a cup of coffee and we shared a joke yet again.     

The arrival:

After bidding a good day to my latter day saviours and the healing waters of Ruitalan i made my way over the border into Galicia and spotted a couple of ancient elders wrestling with an ox and a plough! What a great sight, i felt glad to be back yet again, but this time i did’nt have a return ticket, this time i planned to stay!

I decided to stop beside the monastery of Samos and touch base with the man called John Botrill. Another man called Mike answered the phone this time and gave me directions to a place called Lavanderia which was near to a place called Ferreira de Panton, which was near to a place called Monforte de Lemos. I wrongly assumed that this gentleman would turn out to be his son.

As i got into the town of Panton and seemingly more lost, a jolly roly poly woman directed me down a tiny alley and back out into more countryside. Pants on Pants off, pants on pants off i thought as i left Panton. Then the mans name kept going through my brain: sounds a bit like botty?  The other man!? Something didn’t add up here?  Lavanderia sounds a bit...oh no....there not, they couldn’t be...

‘Yoo hoo over here’ came the effeminate voice! And out stepped the two  friends.

My initial instinct was to slam the van into reverse and speed backwards as fast as i could go but an old man with a herd of goats was blocking my path, i could not go forwards as the road narrowed. I was trapped!

Lavanderia: John and Mike,

Luckily they were not dressed like gay folk off the television, like Boy George or members of the Village people or even Elton John throwing a wobbler in his velour tracksuit, not even a handlebar tash! Thank fuck for that! I was too tired to drive any further