On bloodied hands and knees they crawl and cry with pained scowls. Some are encouraged with a depiction of Christo Negro, others by having hot wax dripped over scarred backs. One was drinking a beer.

But the Christo Negro Church pews are full. The only faces that aren't grim, are those asleep.

Religion, a cruel irony? As the rain continues to fall, police and the army patrol the streets and harbour. Paramedics carry stricken pilgrims off in stretchers. Street vendors sell yesterday's food.

It's been a long night for these pilgrims. The music didn't stop, the beer flowed. Portabello is now a latrine and garbage tip. Two days ago it was the cleanest I have ever seen it.

We will soak in the atmosphere which is bound to improve when the pimps, prostitutes and pushers come out to play.

....and the pilgrim start to rack up a few new sins to be cleansed next year.