The crazy american

What a night we had in Zubiri. After walking and napping, I found a group of friends outside a bar and was greeted with a big hug from lisbeth from Ireland. The whole gang was there Mille who says fuck a lot. Michael from Australia. Lisbeth´s husband Steve. Maria from Switzerland. Craig from Scotland who I didn´t know when I showed up, but we quick became drinking buddy´s.  There was supposed to be a festival in the town square that night, so we were all getting our pre-festy drink on. I think they had all been drinking for a few hours and the mood was festive. I knew it was going to be a good night when Bob Segar came on!

Craig is the instigator of the group, getting everyone hyped up for the party and buying everyone shots. He offered me 100 Euro to go catch one of the goats on the steep hill across the street. I actually considered it a moment then decided I didn´t want to go to Spanish jail. After Michael and I told him we didn´t want any shots and he came back with cups half full of rum.  Of course, I was chasing my rum with beer which Heinz from Germany thought was crazy, and I began to be lovingly be called the crazy American. I think my story about the longest fart ever heard, which was in Roncevalles Alburgue(pilgrim´s hostel), helped to seal the nickname. There must have been 50 people in one room, and I woke up early in the morning, while everyone else was asleep, just in time to hear a fart that lasted at least 30 seconds. It just would not stop.  I never smelled anything so must have been far enough away.

Around 11 we heard music playing and stubled down to the square. The dj was playing musics but no one was out. So Michael and I decided we would get the party started with some dancing. This is when the beer glass that I stole with beer in in falls out of my jacket and crashes loudly to the ground. We just went on dancing. And after a while decided we must have been wrong about the festival and went back to our Alburgue for a few hours rest. We found out the next day the festival did not start til midnight and went until 5am. Bumpin music all night. We just didn´t know how the Spanish do it!

The next morning we were some of the last to get going. We walked the path at different paces, but throughout the day you pass the people you know, then you stop for a break and they pass you. Or you catch up with someone new and make a new friend.
Favorite moment´s of the night: MIille yelling ¨"what the fuck were they thinking, going over that mountain" in reference to the path the ancient pilgrims walked and we have been following.

Craig who is over 6 feet tall, big guy, and Michael shorter, skinny guy are standing side by side and simultaneously begin swinging their arms and singing salt and peppers "push it real good"