Part 6: Or How the Pilgrim Imposter Avoided Detection

As soon as Vespers were over, I hurried back to the hostel. My instructions had been very clear; be at the dining hall by 7:15pm sharp as that's when the doors open. I entered the small courtyard outside the big wooden refectory hall doors and gasped. It was full, stone-wall-to-stone-wall full of pilgrims! Those large wooden pegs I had noticed along the walls were now hung with beautiful walking sticks. Pushed under every bench I saw backpacks and daypacks, most of which were decorated with large scallop shells...sure signs there were pilgrims around. The multi-cubicle structures along the south wall were stuffed with muddy hiking boots and worn walking sandals. Suddenly the sign above it made sense to me: 'Please remove your boots before entering the hostel rooms.' Everyone seemed to know everyone else. In the cacaphony of conversations, I recognized French, English, German, Dutch, maybe Norwegian. Before I could even begin to make a plan, the doors opened and everyone filed in to take a seat at two long tables. People asked me rapid-fire questions that I couldn't understand much less answer! I sat between two groups...Germans on my left, a French couple on my right. Those folks I could at least greet...we 'bonjoured' each other, and the man asked in English if I were an American. Relieved to hear a question I could understand, I only had time to say a quick 'yes' before one of the Brothers took center stage and welcomed everyone...for at least 10 minutes in French. Volunteers then began to set out big baskets of bread and bottles of wine on each table, soon followed by salad and a hearty potato dish that the pilgrims ate with gusto. All that walking really works up an appetite. As I visited a bit with the French couple, I discovered that he was an anesthesiologist and his wife, a nurse. This was their second time this summer walking parts of the pilgrim trail. As he interpreted for me, I learned what the questions and greetings were all about...walking the Pilgrim Path. "Where did you walk from today?" "Where are you walking to tomorrow?" "Where did you start the Path?" "Will you walk all the way to Compostelle?" "Have you walked other Paths?" "How many kilometers have you walked?" quelle horreur! How do I answer all these very nice, very sincere pilgrims? How do I explain that I am just a tourist that probably took the very last bed away from one of their fellow pilgrims who at this moment might be sleeping under a bridge somewhere? What I decided was that I'd be vague...not exactly lie...but...So my response was I was 'walking locally.' They didn't really need to know that meant I was strolling around the village shopping! They could assume what they wanted. Still...the shame of it all! At one point during dinner I felt so uncomfortable in my imposter role that I contemplated leaving. "I can't do this! I'm a fake!" Only the thought of asking 6 people to move so I could get away from the table prevented my flight. I took a deep breath and sternly told myself, "You CAN do this. These are nice people. Just go with the flow and enjoy the experience." So, for now at least, I, too, was a pilgrim on the chemin St. Jacques de Compostelle.