two walking companions

Free internet this morning, so I thought I would take advantage.

Walking out of Burgos, I was joined by a Spanish woman. I love the first hour, my first hour of walking by myself. It reminds me of this poem where the guy gets up early and savors the time alone and later shakes his head at the newspaper with everyone else (one of you literary people can find the link). Anyhow, she joined me and started nattering on in Spanish (which I think is actually worse than English nattering because I have to pay attention to know when to nod dismissively. If i didn´t nod at the proper time, she craned her head around and stared at me--Me entiendes? Me entiendes?--Do you understand me? Do you understand me?) I tried to subtly indicate that I really like walking alone. I tried to go silent. I ended up inventing a need to go to the bathroom.

Then, I kept walking. An Austrian man came along. I was gunshy at this point, but it turns out that Manfred and I don´t have any languages in common, save a little English. Once we used charades to establish some basics about feet and countries, we enjoyed the best of all conversations, the rhythm of boots hitting ground to the accompaniament of singing birds. Cooing pigeons, in my case.