Procession

Old mate and I found each other in the albergue and bundled up to the Cathedral. He's got a 25 year old daughter (the relationship took some working out but I was relieved we settled on daughter) in Paris and perhaps I'm her stand in for the minute.

I sort of steered him along even though it was his idea, he just kept mumbling about Mary and asking everyone he passed "procession?". I mean when there's a human tide moving in a direction it's not super hard, but to reassure him I did ask one of those over-engineered traffic wardens holding a machine gun and got the nod.

Squished against the walls of the narrow street, he fumbled excitedly with his enormous cube digital camera that looks like a box brownie, nearly dropping it when everything kicked off LOUD. The procession started with about a hundred hooded figures, four abreast, the first half with drums and the second half with horns. Drums went solo for a while, an unbelievable racket, and my lovely mate turned to me and shout-whispered he was scared.

After a while they turned around, the horns had a go, then a bunch of floats got carried out of the church followed by other, different hoods, and, without explanation, something out of asterisk and obelisk. This was all well and good but where was "MAY-REE"?! He started following what was now a moving ordeal, presumably to find her, and I told him I'd see him later and went to find something to eat.

On reflection, I think he's got his days mixed up, Mary gets a go on Good Friday.Читать далее