I guess I was a funny sight in October 2012 when I gave in to my blisters at Santo Domingo and walked from there to Burgos in purple crocs. When we got up on the last day it was dark and raining and nowhere was open for coffee. We climbed a steep hill, rain lashing down, so I needed windscreen wipers on my glasses. Couldn't see a thing and kept slipping backwards on stones in my crocs. Cold, wet, coffeeless, slipping about in the dark, and that was when a companion started singing "through the night of doubt and sorrow, onward goes the pilgrim band". I did contemplate murder at that point. Never been so glad to see the lights of an open bar in my life!