Where everybody knows your name...well,at least one person.

This morning started out with me a little off kilter. I got up in plenty of time to be ready to go by 8:30. Then I noticed a couple of untreated blisters. I worked on them as quickly as possible, loading stuff in the pack as I went. Leslie is calling "Carol, Carol! CAROL,!! from somewhere below or outside. We are catching a ride into town with a fellow guest of this gite who has a car. I must hurry!
My fingers feel fat and stiff and don't want to move as I try to secure all the openings on my pack. Finally  everything closed and ready to go.  I should be  downstairs with my pack and boots. But  I look at my feet, wrapped up in blister protect mode and  it hits me
Socks
I don't have any socks on.
There are no socks to be seen, in fact they are in a zippered bag near the bottom of my pack.

For some reason this brings tears to my eyes. I am sure this is the first time I have cried over packed socks, but probably not the last .

CAROoooool!!!!

The gite owner Elizabeth is in the room trying to help. I am a sobbing mess sitting in a pile of all my belongings...holding my socks.

I stuff spoon,comb,garbage, bandana, money in my pockets....and shove my belongings back in my pack. "Suck it up Carol" I say to myself  "Get going."

After a short ride into the village, we are walking again. Following the GR 65 red and white stripes through the village the  banter between us is centered on the different colors representing the GRs in France. From my previous walk I know  we will watch for yellow arrows when we  reach the border of Spain. Then the arrows will be supported by shells which change slightly with each region.

There are cars parked solidly along this street.  Not too many people are driving yet.  I  notice a small dark colored car approaching.  Suddenly it pulls over and parks.  We would call it "Double Parking" The tall handsome driver gets out and approaches us. "Clupny?" he says.  I am  shocked but I say "yes". Leslie says "What the f***? You know him?"

" I am Matthieu,  You stay at my gite tonight "' the French accent sounded almost seductive . Oh wow, I think.  What is this about? Who is this guy and how does he know my name? We are not staying in this village tonight. Where is the nearest convent?! We would be safe there.

Then he leans down and  kisses me on both cheeks like I was his long lost favorite aunt.  "Carol Clupny yes? You eat dinner. You like ice cream."  Now I know. A few days ago  it was my turn to find lodging.  I emailed ahead for reservations  I wrote "Need two beds  for American women."  The gite owner responded "You want eat?" referring to demi-pension  dinner and breakfast..  I wrote back jokingly "Yes and I like ice cream!"    Mathieu was the gite owner, yet how did he pick me out hundreds of walkers going to Manciet  today.

" See you two hours. I go get ice cream now."

Puzzled, we walked on and out into the countryside.  We walked though so much mud today. We took  a wrong turn and walked a muddy kilometer or more out of the way. We walked and walked along rows of Armagnac grape vines. Leslie fell and a nearby walker, an elderly French man raced to help her up.  She managed . She falls again and is now is carrying 5 lbs of mud on her 50 lb pack. We chat about cute Mathieu.
Some French walkers come by and comment on her crappy shoes and overfilled pack. Hmm I  have offered suggestions before.  Her shoes and pack are really slowing her down.

We arrive in Manciet. Matheiu's gite is hidden in  an old bakery.We have to walk through a back alley to get to the door. He sees us coming and he opens a window and yells  "You are here!  The famous Carol Clupny is Here!' He grabs my pack and takes it to a bedroom.  I slip off my muddy boots and follow him upstairs.  I hear music,  Very familiar music.  In fact, it is one of my favorite songs. I am getting more freaked,  He can tell...

Matthieu laughs and says "You Carol Clupny are famous. I watch your movie on YouTube . Further discussion in broken English reveals he thought the name Clupny was interesting so he Googled it. My camino slide show C- Team Walks came up. So he knows I have Parkinsons Disease and I move slowly.  He has watched it and enjoys the music. In fact it is playing on his  hand held device right now.  I look at it. And then I look at myself in the mirror.

 I am wearing the very same clothes as one  year ago on the Camino Frances.   No wonder he knows my name.