Back to St. Jean

When I got back to my room from wandering around, it was full of folks. In one bunk were 2 gentlemen, one from Quebec, and one who I never did find out where he was from--he was very quiet. In the trundle bed was Sabine from Switzerland, who was walking alone and missing her 3 year old daughter. In the bunk above me was a man from the Canary Islands. He spoke Spanish, but I never did get his name. Across in the other bunk were Ari and Lisa, a young American couple who had been married the year before, but had been saving their money for over 3 years in order to travel around the world for a year. I was pretty impressed with them. They were were on 8 months of their 12 month journey, and had spent the last months before Spain in the orient, China, Viet Nam, etc.

After I met most of the folks, I wanted to walk around again, but "off the beaten path". Well, there isn´t much of a beaten path anyway there, but when I was walking on the main street, I saw a turn off and went up a side street. I walked past a beautiful garden, full of tomatoes, beans, and leeks, of all things. I don´t think I had ever seen leeks growing before, so went closer to see them. An older man in a beret (common in these parts) came over and started speaking to me in French. I asked him if it was his garden and he said yes. Then I was pretty much at the end of my French. THEN, he asked me if I spoke Spanish! I was so happy to hear Spanish, it seemed almost as good as English right then, because at least I could communicate in it. He asked me where I was from, and when I said Colorado, he told me he had a sister living in Idaho! Ok, talk about a small world! That was almost as good as standing in Piccadilly Circus for 47 minutes.

So, I wandered up the street, and found out there was also a camping area which was pretty much full. Some of the campers might have been pilgrims, some simply vacationers visiting this part of France. I passed the campground, and crossed the river on an older bridge just upstream, and watched the fish hovering in the water, facing the current, just holding their places. It was warm, the humidity seemed to have diminshed some, and I wasn´t sweating so much, so I felt pretty good. But, also figured I´d better get myself together, so back to the alburgue.

While I was upstairs trying to arrange my pack, I heard guitar music out the window. I looked out, and saw a young man sitting on the stone stoop that so many of the houses on these narrow streets have. He was playing some soft classical guitar, and had a hat out on the ground. I realized he was staying at our place, and thought perhaps he just needed some extra money. I went back into the room, when suddenly the music changed and someone started singing what seemed to be local folk songs in a very strong voice, and there was another guitar in the mix. I looked back out the window and saw that another man , probably local, had joined up with our player, and was drawing quite a crowd. Standing at the open window, with the curtains blowing around me, leaning out over the people, I felt like I was in some kind of movie, that suddenly the crowd would look up at me, or I should call to them, and get their attention, or something. It was again, one of ¨those¨moments, but all too soon, the wandering musician packed up his guitar, shook the other guy´s hand and moved on. Probably a good thing, or I would still be there, listening to him.

The weather continued lovely at this time of day, so I decided to move downstairs and also sit on the stoop and watch the people go by. On the other side of the door were some young Spanish men, chatting and moving back and forth from their room, which was right on the street. Shortly after that, Ari and Lisa came up from a trip to the food store, and they also sat and fixed their dinner right there on the stoop--a can of white beans, a can of salmon, a tomato cut up on top and some green olives, shared out between the two of them. They offered to share with me, but I was still full from the late lunch, although I did accept a square of dark chocolate for dessert.

Shortly after they were done, our landlady came out with a bottle of wine and some glasses, and poured us all a glass to drink to the beginning of our journey. It was good to be sitting there, content, having wine, and knowing that tomorrow I would embark on something totally unknown. Although I could have been afraid, I was not. I was surprised at how completely content I was. Even if I had known what was coming, I mean, REALLY known, I think I would have felt the same. It was truly a fitting way to end a beautiful day.

Thanks for reading, and blessings from the Road,

Crone