The landlord takes me to the meadow of Leon by car. I ask where in the village I can buy “pienso”, dogfood. But the son of the hospess is a butcher and he daily feeds waste meat to all those 25 locked up hunting dogs! Take 4 chicken carcasses with you , he says. That’ll happen in the Netherlands too within one or two generations. The carcasses are loaded on the horse and there we go again. Chicken bones are dangerous for your dog. Can puncture the stomach. What a bull shit. If that’s right the forest will be filled with corpses of all those wolves, foxes etc., that have outwitted a dove, partridge or pheasant. What else do these predators live of?
Also by car we were taken to a restaurant yesterday. That was a cousin again. Maybe in the future this will occur in the Netherlands too. By getting rid of all national social services for the elderly, we all will have to take care of each other, children, family, friends . Maybe that’s even fun. Jan wondered how it will be if all women work away from home. Then there is nobody to take care of you when you are old. Perhaps cheap labor, eg. From the Philippines or something. Seems not a bad idea. I muse on how civilizations come and go. Greece, Italy and Spain in this case, with their illustrious pasts, and how are they now? Possibly North Western Europe will go that same way.
Quite some pilgrims here seemed to die at about 63 years old!Rain was predicted, but the weather was dry and soft. Wow, what a climb. Moreover on rocky trails. That horse amazes me. Runs like a 4-weel drive. I think his hoofs have become concrete . He doesn’t mind anything. With top speed he moves uphill over those boulders . I still let him pull me. What a beastly beast, that horse. Indestructible. Dog Tosca carries and drags again everything she finds. Rips apart plastic, desparately trying to pry a tree root , growling, disappears into the forest, barking. Every moment I expect him back with a pig in the mouth, or vice versa. She has the best time in her life.
Many people always ask me: is this fun? Every time I answer: should it be? Nowadays if someone doesn’t like something, it has to be “upniced”. To me fun is the enthusiasm of the dog. Tosca has gotten firm buttocks, as suits her female name. The horse is like a train and having fun. Runs through streams, running up and down stairs, over narrow bridges etc. Beautiful villages, beautiful houses, bridges, funny moments, such as 20 or 30 hunting dogs yesterday, Koreans who are about to stammer here at the bar, because they are allready hungry now at their 2nd hiking day. Jan, who explains them in fluent English how habits are in Spain. I see them nodding friendly, while they don’t understand nor speak any English etc. At least we show them how one walks through the dormitory scarcely dressed, before or after showering to get ready for the night. They have no hair on their chest, so they’ll be startled by Jan and me !!! It is dry, while rain is predicted. So those are all some nice things, fun. Less nice is if the rain comes nevertheless, and when Leon’s plastic sheet gets torn when Leon is rubbing through a narrow gate, or when Leon pulls me into the brook, knocks me off the path, stands on a paw of Tosca, or if an old nag at an inn is pissing us off, if we think that tomorrow we’ll have to climb 5 km. uphill , if we do not know the way, if there is no wifi, or worse, if there is absolutely no bar etc. etc. As a child I learned that when it rains, the angels were scrubbing heaven. I think they cannot be sweet angels who cause the rain, but instead those are men my age in heaven who above all suffer from the prostate, because the rain does not stop.
In Biscarreta Guerendendiain are all signs in Basque. Maybe easy for the 50 people who live there. I don’t want all the world to be one single gray culture. Diversity, including language and culture, adds color to the globe and to life. Therefore photographs of the Basque signs.
Jan asked if there was a coffeeshop. Yes, left, right, left and in the casa blanca. In the hamlet with the short name all houses happened to be white, exept for 2. Nevertheless convenient, if you know where you should NOT be.
Now and then we pass crosses for deceased pilgrims. All around 63 years old! Makes me think (see photos).
Thus while walking I remembered a movie, I believe it was called “the maraton runner”. Already 48 years ago. It was about a young guy who mistakenly was placed in a prison or reformatory, where he was treated badly. Then there was a maraton contest between asylums. He participated, eventually ran far ahead of the rest and the leadership of the asylum encouraged him ecstatic, because the management of the establishment would get credit with his upcoming victory . Just before the finish he sat down. Come on man, get going, 20 more meters to go, a little more. He refused it, on purpose. I ‘ll get you, bloody bastards! Beautiful movie. And such a simple theme. Again, the power of simplicity!
Of course the readers will care less what I do, but it would be nice if I could refuse tomorrow to cross the border with France, if not everyone would contribute at least 10 E to Mama Alice. But yes, I can only ask, me poor guy. .
Right now I am waiting, still on the Spanish side of the border, for the arrival of Constance, who travelled from the Nl. to France, and who will join our team. Will be fun.
What now? Leon do I still have to teach you walking on your knees?
Quite some pilgrims around 63 years old are dying here
It was a Korean
Jan and Tosca have become pals, although both lost some weight
Basque writing
Geef uw mening