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| Jorge, a homeless man, was concerned to find me a place to stay for the night in Cartagena, but I already had one. |
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| I had a chat with some of these folks when they moved to the other side of the road using my extensive Arabic vocabulary. |
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| In San Javier |
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| My own personal albergue in front of the church in San Javier |
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| This Moroccan Muslim gave me twice as much fruit as I had purchased. "For peace," he said. |
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| My constant companions on the road in Spain |
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| On the road |
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| The Scandanavians are already sunbathing |
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| My home in the park in Dehesa de Campoamor |
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| Where the streets lead to in the south of Spain |
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| Tana and Graham, my most amiable hosts and friends in Torrevieja |
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