Kiss From a Rose

Today I made seal soup. The skull still has a little flesh on it, mostly around the lip. The hostal I'm in is run by Patti, who is quite lovely. It's less a hostal and more her house with a few back rooms of bunk beds. I've asked Patti for "muy caliente agua", then, to better convey what I'm try to achieve, I've opened my skull bag just enough so she can have a peak. She's wholly unphased by the skull, and offers a pot and the stove.

Photo: Frithjof Behne

The boiling rotten seal flesh has a certain smell. Not necessarily a bad smell. After boiling for an hour, I'm out front by the road, cutting and scraping away the remaining flesh with my trusty Swiss army knife and fingernails. There was more flesh that I had thought. It is not extremely pleasant.