Mademoiselle Coquette, a robust and furry, white feline known to her friends as Coqui (a frog of the Amazon) because of her penchant for hopping along rather than sauntering, was busy licking her elegant paws on Friday afternoon, having just finished a meal of omelette champignon and cafe noir petit. This was her favorite time of day, when the tourists were busy sightseeing at the Coliseum or strolling along the Rhone, and she could enjoy a good wash and nap in peace.
Just as she was about to continue on to her whiskers - and what a sight they were; bread crumbs dangling daintily off the ends - she was interrupted by the most bothersome of street sounds brought into her room by a swift breeze. Apparently, the cafe below her master's apartment was suddenly a hub of activity; humans chatting away without regard for this monastic hour.
'How dare they!' she thinks to herself. 'These humans have no respect'. Her reflexes sharpened by years of narrowly missing cars in the pencil thin streets of Arles, she quickly unfurls her tail and leaps over to the window ledge in the blink of an eye, her voluptuous white body hanging over the edge like honey spilling from a pot.
"Miaou! Miaou! Miaouuuuu!" she yells out as loudly as she can, her jade green eyes fixed on the humans below sipping jus d' orange and cafe ou lait. "Miaou! Miaou! Mmmmmiiiiaaaaoooouuuu!". Finally, she's grabbed the attention of two foreigners walking past - one, an older woman with a camera slung around her neck; the other a mademoiselle wearing jeans that appear to not have been washed in quite some time. 'Let them stare,' she thinks. 'I want their attention'. Mme Coqui decides to let out one last "Miaou" of protest, which appears to work, as the humans below grow quiet. 'At least they listen to reason,' she thinks to herself, hopping back over to her sun drenched nest.
Just as her tiny pink tongue finds its way back to her whiskers, the street noise strikes back up again! Absolutely fed up, Mme Coqui leaps back over to the sill, this time flinging her body nearly all the way off the ledge and yells with all her might a string of miaou's that would put the fear of god in even the most devout of atheists.
A sea of heads turn up to her, as human mouths draw tightly shut. It worked. Sweet silence once again. 'And this time it better stick!' As she turns away, in the corner of her eye she notices the two foreign women attempting to take a picture of her. 'Oh no they don't,' she thinks to herself and scrambles back to her bed before the Madame can even turn the power on her camera.
Bathed in the warm light of the afternoon sun, the crumbs knocked off her whiskers from all the leaping about and shaking in anger, Mme Coqui closes her eyes, tucks in her fluffy white tail and purrs herself to sleep.
FIN
Some pictures of Arles, minus one of Mme Coqui...
The start of the Camino. Just one day away!
Tomorrow's Camino lunch - olive and rosemary bread.
The first stamp in our Pilgrim Credentials. Many many more to follow.
Van Gogh's garden.
Me outside the pilgrim welcome center in the diocesan office where we got our stamp and some advice to avoid the trail along the mosquito plagued canal tomorrow.
The left marker is that of the pilgrimage. Hmmm... His backpack looks quite a bit smaller than ours...
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Location:Rue Marius Jouveau,Arles,France
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