I forgot about this one...

So for a little while I forgot to mention the duck man. I call him the duck man because he had some strange obsession with ducks... but I'll explain that a little later. When we were in San Sebastian buying hammocks we were approached by an obviously poor old man who came to beg us for a little change. We assured him that we had only what we needed for the bus home, but he wasn't dissuaded, he wanted to talk to us instead once he found out the gringos could speak spanish.

Angela somehow let slip that she was from Australia, which prompted this man to begin a series of unintelligle questions about the rights and abilities in the land down under. Of them all I only understood one, and I was the only person that understood it. It seems he desperately wanted to know if you could marry a duck in Australia. This seemed strange to me, so I didn't let on that I knew what he was asking about and just feigned ignorance with the rest. But this was his most important question so he began to motion like a duck and repeat the question over and over. Finally when thoroughly exhausted of that he decided to sing me a song since I seemed to understand him the best.

It was while he was singing to me that he touched my knee and I got a whiff of his breath. Suddenly all I could think of was furiously washing my knee and face. I didn't mean it in any bad way, it was just all my mind was transfixed on at the time because I didn't want to be talking to him, much less serenaded by him.

It wasn't until after the whole sordid and filthy affair that I discovered a little something about marrying ducks... apparently the word for marriage and hunting are very similar in spanish. Casar is to marry and cazar is to hunt, subtle but important difference. I choose to believe it was his lack of a front tooth that forced his Z's into sounding like S's. So but for the grace of one tooth we might have had a nice talk about hunting ducks instead of marrying ducks and being serenaded.