Pilgrim's progress

Axel stood on the other side of the canal looking a bit sad.  I had know idea who he was.  I was trying to plan lessons and pretended I hadn't seen him.  
Nico's the guard dog in any case.
A storm was brewing and Axel was looking for a dry place to sleep.  He was young and thin and tattooed and no doubt hungry as he was living on berries.
I sat him down at the table and offered him wine, but he opted for water.
He was clutching a baguette which Diant had given him at closing time.  He'd brought it as a gift to us but I made him eat it along with some cheese.
Axel had only just started his pilgrimage.  25 kms a day had brought him from Carcassonne to Mirepoix on his way to Portugal.  He'd decided to pass by Compostella (probably because the path is well trodden and sign posted and difficult to get lost on - which is what I would have done if  I could have summoned up the energy to walk twenty K a day for several months).
I felt bad because we couldn't offer him a bed (not even Mu has one yet) and over compensated by doing my Jewish mother skit and insisted that he ate with us.
He was too polite to question why Nico had put carrots in his ratatouille although I wasn't.  It's an aberration.
 
I rang Brigitte Thomas (the official pilgrim putter upper in these parts) and asked her if she could take Axel in for the night.  She hesitated for a moment, saying the room wasn't really ready.  I said he wasn't looking for an airbnb and that pilgrims didn't book, they just turned up.  Isn't that the point?
She agreed, took me up on my offer and joined us for our hybrid ratatouille.
before he left I slipped a little postcard of Mirepoix in his bag.  On the back I'd scribbled the only passage I know from Hebrews; Entertain strangers for thereby some entertain angels unaware.  And off he went.

Nico thought today was a good mushroom day, although it wasn't of course.  I found figs though and ate them all on my own with the St. Félicien which Axel hadn't finished yesterday.

Axel is right, there is nothing better, but it takes balls and nerves to do what he's doing.  I wish my putative angel well and hope he gets to Portugal.