SLUGS
Today’s surprise en route is the reappearance of Spanish slugs. This is a cause of joy for me. For about the first three days of this trip, in France and then in Navarra, there were slugs everywhere. I am not talking about little delicate worms. I am talking about massive fat things, as much as 8 inches long and bloated with liquids; and many of them with strange, yellow-green horns on their heads that look like they would glow in the dark. (As a friend later told me, they look like “snakes with horns.”) Each time I saw one on the road, I wanted to stop for a picture, because no one would believe the size of these guys. But that was early in the trip, and I was focused, focused on moving forward, in proving that I could actually do this journey. And then suddenly, without warning, and before any photos were taken, the slugs were gone.
For almost three weeks, I was perplexed by their disappearance, and mourning their loss. Where could they have gone? Did the ever-resourceful French grab them, put them in a skillet with butter and garlic, and sauté them all, like gigantic escargots without the shells? Or did the Aussies skewer them and put them on the barbie like prawns? Who knows.
All I know is that for some reason their country cousins appear this morning for a few hours, all over the road. The slugs today are not of the same epic dimensions as their Navarra nephews, but still, each one is about six inches of meat and ooze. And some smaller ones, perhaps only 4 inches long, are also 4 inches wide. Those guys are real butterballs.
This time, I have learned my lesson. I stop to take at least a dozen pictures of these delectable monsters. At one point, I decide that I have to put my shoe next to one of them so that the whole world can see how big they really are. The first time I try that, the slug goes after me. He turns half his body toward my boot and ramps up the speed, with his horns throbbing, and goes right for me. I jump back. Some part of my brain says, “How can you be worried about a 6-inch stick of slime?” But Dear Reader, you weren’t there to witness the horror of it, and the potential for doom.