So let me tell you about Moose

I’m in Los arcos and if yesterday’s stop was 5 *…  We’ll let’s just say today’s isn’t.

It’s so busy, pilgrims everywhere but I  know no-one.   70 beds in the municipal albergue and all full… Poor people arriving now have to walk on as there’s no room at the inn.  I’m sat in the square with two very lovely ladies from Denmark and also Mary, who  Gerry and I walked with for a little bit out of Roncesvalles.

There is a fabulous church with extraordinary beauty but sad too… All this gold… How many people went hungry to pay for all that gold?

Anyway I have a bed because I started early today and it was still dark and the moon was still up.   Why… Well… Moose!

Yesterday he blew into the dorm in a blaze of turquoise, sweat and hellos… Or haellok (hello)!  It seems like everything he says… Loudly and slowly… Included an a and ended with a k.

I aamk… (we’ll call him moose) haork are yaouk… Aouchk… Blaistersk.  (I am Moose, how are you… ouch… blisters) Anyone who knows me will know that by now I was already irritated.   He’s about 5’6″ and wore beige trousers a little too snug and an equally snug turquoise top… “staainedk fraimk his baeltk (stained from his belt)”.   He talked at me for an eternity.   Other pilgrims came and left… Leaving me with a sympathetic smile… I was trapped.

He ended one sentence with “c’est simple”… Oh your French says me… And he turned into the Swedish chef from the muppets only speaking French.   WAOH… I’m sorry I didn’t understand… What part of France are you from…” kaicrick”… Sorry… “kaoukrisck”… Pardon…”kouaibric”…” kaikcrtck”… Oh quebec!

I don’t want to be mean… I’m pretty sure real pilgrims don’t say these things but oh he was boring… And he never stopped.   No one else could enter the conversation… He  never took a breath… All a’s and k’s.   Over dinner he talked with his mouth full and I just wanted to move or cover my plate… He wasn’t horrible just exhausting.

We escaped back to our room… Laughed about not having to deal with another 5.00 am start and went to sleep.

I’m not sure if I woke because of moose or the church bells but as I opened my eyes he was there astride two top bunks in an equally snug pair of pants… Trying to retrieve his makeshift washing line that he made the night before. Maorningk (morning) he whispered like a fog horn,  blinding me with his ridiculous head touch,  as he smiled and waved.   I know now that he has way more body hair than is natural and that he packs all of his kit in individual  carrier bags…  I heard each of them as he packed.

As he left the aussie opposite shouted…  How’dya like your lie in Colleen  … We all groaned and got up.

So… I started walking whilst the moon was still in the sky and if I ever see that beige little bum again… I’m off in the other direction!

Ps… I’m grateful for your comments and support xx

4 thoughts on “So let me tell you about Moose

  1. Loved the photos. And, yes, I remember about the church in Los Arcos; too baroque, too much gilt.

    I was particularly interested to see those hay bales on the way to Los Arcos. I was told that they were put there specially for the film “The Way”. Don't know if that could be true because the film was made in early 2010.

    Would the bales still be there???

    Colleen, keep going. Keep taking off shoes and socks at intervals and, once the blisters heal, you will be soooo happy!

    If it's any consolation, I too found people from Quebec very, very difficult to understand; it's certainly not French as we know it, is it?

    lots of love xxxx



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