Walking out of Pamplona, I passed a tiny village and 30min later my walking baton broke in the middle of a green field.
No village nearby (only some ruins) surely no repair shop in the next village... only one person on my path, a man in his seventies with two batons. Eureka, surely he knows how to fix one! So we got to talk. He asked me where I was from. It turned out he had lived in my hometown, where he worked for a chemical company back in the 60ties. I told him that more likely it was another company, as the company he mentioned only exists since early 80ties.... Surprised he asked me how I knew this. Because my grandfather was a director there. When I said his name, he stopped and with incredible eyes quoted the exact department my grandfather had worked and some family details. My turn to be surprised! Under other circumstances, I would never have talked to this stranger and rather waited to find a repair shop. He also walked to Santiago years ago. We exchanged tips and shook hands, promising to keep in contact. El mundo es un pañuelo, the word is a handkerchief we say in Spanish (referring to size rather than cleaness) PS. He did repair my walking baton.
Publicado con Blogsy
No comments:
Post a Comment