21st Hiking Day
On the way to Marsolan. Please Lord. Just one thing today. I want to buy a little French book and read it in French. I don't want more now. A cute French bookstore.
Anyway, yesterday I was looking forward to being home though this place here and this time now was far from being bad. I don't even know what to write down. Thoughts alternate every day. A big jumble. How to find the common thread? Life is just so complex and everything and everyone influences everything and everyone that every written word is just a snapshot which can be shifted in every direction. For example, I now want the company of a young, humorous and beautiful girl. Is that really too much to ask? And by young I mean everything below the age of 40. That would really be the diamond among the pieces of coal. Oh, and she must be single. Just straightforward. And now, God, you come into play. A snap of the finger and the future mother of my children will appear in front of me. Now I'm really looking forward to the woman I'll meet next. Expectations are up to a maximum.
So she was rather in her mid-sixties and with glasses. In any case: Lectoure, you lovely beauty from afar. You have a cathedral and a bishop's palace. A cute little bookstore, too, please. And there are also things which I can influence: a large, freshly tapped, cool Belgian beer for me. It is not too much to ask for.
Right ankle appears to be almost completely healed. Otherwise nothing new in the south-west. A little French booklet. A humble wish. Yesterday I read 2 1/2 pages of "Orient Express" by Agatha Christie in French and it was fun. With the dedicated lieutenant.
So, I've bought my book now (even if not in a bookstore) and I drank my big beer (even if not in Lectoure, but in Marsolan). Everything somehow missed the plan and yet somehow everything worked out nonetheless. I'm looking forward to come home after the trip. I need a few small changes here and there. But I started with that already. Overall, however, I can pick up where I left off. With family and home. That wouldn't be the worst.
Oh god, I miss my two Canadians. The memory of both puts a smile on my face. I have a whole gîte with a neat kitchen all to myself. Four Parisian women who still know each other from school have settled in the Chambres d'Hôtes. Have been walking the Camino for one week every year since 2015. Not easy to manage. Seem to be clever yet funny. Now I'm sitting here after half a bottle of wine and I'm blessed. Long live music and alcohol. Even when I'm alone right now. Incidentally, I have the feeling that I've gotten fatter here. Also an absurdity. Truth and meaning are no longer found today. But actually I'm fine here. Well, that was it. Oh, the French book is really fun to read. Understanding of the words works for me. On the level of an 11-year-old, but that's fine. Apart from that just reading "Fleisch ist mein Gemüse". This Heinzer guy knows his language. And more importantly, the book has its own voice.
