THE KARAOKE CHEMIN (CAMINO) REALLY BEGINS

THIS SHOULD ACTUALLY LABELED AS APRIL 20 POST.

I have been posting entries onto another blog I had opened inadvertently--not this one, though they both have the same name--go figure. So I had to copy those and transfer them to this blog. So about 4 of them are labelled the same date (the date they actually get published on this blog....confusion, confusion, confusion). Oh the wonders of modern life.

I have an English keyboard today--courtesy of this lovely French man who lives in Auvillar and runs a little internet place. He is half American and actually was born in Bloomington, Indiana!!!! I was ready to spend the rest of my days there when he brought up the dreaded G word--G soon to be W (as in girlfriend and wife). Oh well. Not that I don't love my life back in New York. But fantasies do have a bit of pleasant drama to them.

So, I recovered a bit. Had three rest days in the former Carmelite convent in Moissac--a story in itself.

I went to Toulouse yesterday for a day trip. Of course I got lost right away. I spotted a restaurant called Antalya Kebab. I figured it was Turkish and went in. There was a head scarved woman cleaning the floors and I asked her in Turkish if she was Turkish. I can't imagine what she thought of this middle aged man in shorts, Orange shirt and matching orange hat. I didn't think I looked like any kind of authority from Immigration but she looked spooked. But she answered my question finally saying yes. So I asked in Turkish if she knew where the cathedral was. She said, "Cathedral?" I said, "Yes, the big church..."

I didn't realize asking a headscarved Muslim woman in a foreign town about churches was tantamount to asking a nun where the best whore houses were. She really got even more spooked and called for someone. A rather Goth (as in punk, not as in 12-13th century) looking young girl with really overdone black makeup and stringy black hair came down and started asking me questions in French which was a BIG help. Anyway she pointed out the way to St. Sernan (which is NOT the cathedral but was where I wanted to go).

The rest of the tour was uneventful except for SHOPPING. This was a big city remember...the first I had been in since Paris. I was able to get a silk sleeping bag liner and sent my sleeping bag home today (another story which I will spare you--just imagine me trying to fill out a customer satisfaction survey in French in triplicate BEFORE I could sent the package) . So now I am sleeping in silk sheets every night. I also got a slightly malfunctioning water delivery system so I don't have to use those annoying water bottles. I got that to work with the judicious use of a knife and careful positioning in my pack--so it is all set up for me to sip water from a long tube without stopping or reaching much.

And I got some Quechua (a very popular French outdoor gear line) socks in orange and grey. I wanted to get the whole Quechua line up (in a marvelous shade of grey and orange) from backpack to toes but held back. Everything in France is so expensive anyway (except food strangely enough--though the f----ing breakfasts run about 5-7 dollars--a real rip off) and I could not risk getting stylish things that did not hold up on the trail.

The way today was 12 miles almost all along a canal that was well shaded with big sycamores. A better path and day could not have been ordered. Since I had it to myself I thought it was time to inaugurate the karaoke camino. I pulled out my sheaf of songs and let loose. I started--like they did in PRISCILLA, QUEEN OF THE DESERT--with I'VE NEVER BEEN TO ME. I thought it rather appropriate. I did a few other disco numbers and a few Johnny Cash--luck of the draw. It was really quite fun. And it was my 57th birthday. The present was getting back on the trail.

I did try to interest Anne Marie in a song fest about a week ago. I think now the choice of IT'S RAINING MEN was probably not the most appropriate for a 64 year old Parisian ultramarathoner. Maybe I AM WOMAN would have been better. Anyway, she looked at me kinda funny and pushed the songs back to me.

I have a CELL PHONE now. I figured that now that since I am alone I needed to somehow make reservations at the gites along the way (only 12 to go until Spain). And I figured that since I don't understand all those cell phone plan things in English, it would not be too much different in French. The young lady in Toulouse spoke just enough English that I think I got the cheapest deal (cheap in France is relative--and relatively expensive unless you know the ropes). So now I have a phone that works only in France and free minutes for 14 days. I think. Of course I still don't know how to work it. Just like in the USA. And yes the 20 euro phone I was told I could get ended up costing me 80. Now making reservations in French should be FUN.

Well, the gite tonight is incredible. I am sleeping between two French men. How is that for a birthday fantasy (but they are middle aged. One is not so bad looking though). I thought I was going to end up in a big room with a bunch of middle aged French women with butch haircuts (though definitely not lesbians). So I am not complaining.Enough for one day--I have food shopping to do. I can't get rid of this picture by the way.....so I just put it at the bottom.