At breakfast, I meet the first two pilgrims I have seen. I saw them in the village yesterday, but did not realize they are also going to Rome. Phillip is French and Birgit is German. I quickly learn that Phillip is fast and strong and walks 20 plus miles each day, Birgit follows more my pace 12-18 miles per day and we set off together.
My french has been growing, but Birgit speaks little english and no french, so I find myself returning to my German. One thing I bring home with me is a desire to build my language levels even more. The walk is nice, especially to have someone with me. The day is lovely, but the wind is a bit cold.
Halfway through our march, I find a place I think I could get a summer job, but do not stop even though I am intriqued to see what the Swiss make of a WESTERN CITY.
Later we somehow lose the path and end up near a fruit orchard and farm, when out path abruptly ends in a field of tall grass. I think to go back, but Birgit seeing the road a 100 yards ahead thinks we should traverse the field and so begins with me about 10 feet behind her. Not 20 feet into the grass Birgit screams and I see a thick black snake leap up above her knees, I am not sure if it coiled and tried to bite or was just startled, but I have never seen a snake leap. Of course the story is good in German too: DAS GROSSEN SCHWARTZ SCHLANGER WAS SEHR DICH....SHEISHE! Birgit did battle with a snake..scared the poop out of her and made me laugh so hard.
Then we arrive early in Martigny a city of some siye to find everything closed as it is a national holiday...no tourism office, no internet library and even the church offices closed. Birgit speaks of sleeping on the benches besides the church...something I am not too keen on , when a priest arrives and makes preparations for us to have free night stay in a small apartment nearby.
We enjoy a beer on the center plaza in the sun and then our own apartment where we make pasta and drink the wine given us by the church and mutually agree life is good! We have decided we are like a grandma and a grandpa as we walk at a different pace, and so this is the message we leave in the guestbook below.
1 comment :
Oh Michael. I will tell you like I tell my mother when she gets off the phone with one of her sisters (they all speak french) I do not understand! I couldn't read the message you left. I failed french in high school.
Post a Comment