Il faut aller doucement....

Setting the scene.....

2008-07-18T13:12:00.015+12:00

From mid-April until early July 2008, I walked the way of St James. I began in Le-Puy-en-Velay in France, and finished in Santiago de Compostela in Spain, nearly three months later. At the start there were days when it snowed a little, as I climbed above Le Puy then onto the Aubrac Plateau. By the time I finished it was clearly summer, though fortunately for me as a walker, not as hot as it can get in northern Spain.

When I began, I was surrounded by others mostly walking for one or two weeks during their vacation, but gradually I met more who were intending to go further. At this stage of the journey though, people tended to be very humble about their chances of going 'all the way' to "St Jacques". People would always add "si on peut...' (if I am able...) to their response.

At the beginning it often seemed to me that I was the 'slowest' walker around. But the French had what I found to be two very helpful attitudes to walking. They would often say - "each one has their own rhythm". And with respect to long distance walking, I heard repeatedly..."Il faut aller doucement, doucement, pour aller a St Jacques." - It is necessary to go gently, gently to get to St James.
Hence...the title of this blog.......

All my bags are packed.... (5 April)

2008-07-17T19:31:00.019+12:00

First step was a domestic flight away from my home town, and there was a glorious sunrise at Palmerston North airport for my departure.

Soon my heart was gladdened by seeing Egmont, the mountain of my childhood,
mostly swathed in cloud but with its peaks poking through,
then over Ruapehu, there was a chance to look down over the crater of this just-dozing giant;
As we approached the urban sprawl of Auckland, fingers of mangroves poked out in the harbour.
It wasn't long before I was on my SQ flight and flying internationally, with glorious daytime views over the vast dry of central Australia.

All these brought promises of the outdoors I was soon to be immersed in.

Prelude: Paris

2008-07-17T19:30:00.015+12:00

Paris
involved in a love affair with a rampant spring.
A crowded modern metro trip took me to Basilique St Denis
where pilgrims of centuries gone by gathered in the north
for the traverse of the city-
architecture spanning time
early crypt remnants
tombs of Kings Queens princesses.
Near Notre Dame, St Jacques tower stood against the sky in the spring sunshine.
I stood there thinking of all those who had walked before me on this route.
I was a tourist
but as I took the Rue St Jacques, climbing beyond the Sorbonne
it was as if I was already moving into a different world
where centuries merged.

In the church at Haut Pas
I greeted St Jacques
and it was as if I had turned my gaze backwards
with the throng of past pilgrims
to farewell the city.

Prelude: Le Puy en Velay (12 -13 April)

2008-07-17T19:29:00.014+12:00

Gite d'etape des Capucins, was my first place to stay on the Chemin,
the name evocative of the rich religious past
of this city of Le Puy
buried deep in the Auvergne.

I walked up to the Cathedral
straight up the steep approach
my first challenge as a pilgrim.
Hidden were more steps under the arch, then more around corners;
penance already before the real walking begins!

Inside the Cathedral
reverence permeated the stones
a place for the devout

A modern crucifix -glass reflecting light-
caught my eye as I entered,
the glory of Resurrection
not just an immersion in death.
St Jacques statue bathed in welcoming light.

The altar around the black Madonna
was surrounded by red lamps.
Often such an icon in a dark place
would fill me with a kind of dread
but here, light permeated from behind, allowing peace.
I prayed for some people here,
and left a prayer for another pilgrim to carry.

I walked out into a maze of historic streets
and saw the giant Notre Dame statue looming high above on its volcanic rock
but the zigzag climb had resting places,
and I soon enjoyed spectacular views
of Le Puy nestled in its volcanic basin
magnificent in the sunshine
orange roofs against green vegetation.

I visited the cloister in the calm of Sunday morning,
before Mass with incense
in the Cathedral where the Virgin resides.

Then I climbed to Roch St Michel chapel
the very bones of its columns and arches
holding the prayers of ages past
the archangel defending, protecting and challenging.

A wish and greeting came from a woman passing by
the first time I was recognised as a pilgrim,
"Bonne Courage! Bonne Route!"

Day 1: 14 April- Le Puy to Montbonnet

2008-07-17T19:28:00.021+12:00

At 7am on a chilly April morning
pilgrims made their way to the Cathedral
where the Bishop celebrated Mass
then gave a blessing
taking a personal interest in each one
and where they came from.
For me, he switched to English
and told me that more and more New Zealanders
were coming to Le Puy
to start their pilgrimage.
If you wished,
there was a medal of Our Lady to take, and a rosary
and a prayer to carry on behalf of another.

I still felt so very uncertain of myself, even as a walker.
How would I manage for days and days with a pack on my back?
How would I even manage the first steps
climbing out of Le Puy to the higher ground above?
But in the Bishop's eyes, we all were already pilgrims.

I never left early
I had a pile of cards to post first
and there was a Monday morning queue
so when I left to begin the climb
most had preceded me.
This first 'climb' loomed large in my mind as a difficulty
but it wasn't so hard
and I was pleased to find that after about 25 minutes
it had largely levelled off.
My "fitness" walks all summer had paid off.

But the first distance marker was sobering.... so very far to go....
The morning's walk was pleasant, mostly along farming lanes
bounded by rock walls.
Only a few blossoms here, high up;
far from the profusion of a Parisian spring
winter had not yet left its hold.

Already I was noticing details of nature along the way
sunshine on these seeds, lighting them from the back,
and as I walked into the countryside on this first day's walk,
I suddenly knew a deep happiness,
a sense of 'rightness' in what I was doing.
As I walked these first few kilometres,
I knew that I was 'at one' with the landscape,
and that -barring injury-
I would have the joy to be immersed in the outdoors for many days ahead.
I was slowing to a walking rhythm,
where life was already being lived 'in the present moment'.

And I was grateful to those who had marked the route
red and white markers that would lead me far
so that in the midst of isolation
there was some certainty.

I was soon to discover some of the companionship
of this French Chemin.
At an impromptu drinks stand
I met a family from Anjou
that I would end up seeing often over the next few days.
And at St Christophe
the seats provided near the Church
-volcanic rock and twelfth century-
enabled many to sit together over lunch
all enjoying the sunshine, despite the chilly wind.

The climb seemed gradual, not too hard.

The stone of the buildings reflected the volcanic origins of the landscape.
After lunch the terrain began to feel more remote
so that walking four km seemed to take forever.
The wilds of the Auvergne had yet more desolate greetings to bring
on this first day:- sun snow sun snow
on and off with the hat and gloves
often muddy and wet underfoot
passing a village that seemed grey and forbidding
with its houses made of stern volcanic rocks.
The challenge of walking alone in such terrain was with me.

I was glad to approach Montbonnet
passing a small chapel of St Roch
to arrive at l'Escole, my first gite as a walker
converted from a farm building
with an open fire and a warm welcome
and hot showers
'just the thing' on such a day.

I washed my muddy trousers and hung them on the line
in full sunshine
only to have to rescue them forty minutes later
as heavy snow began,
then it was back to sunshine.
Others laughed at my child-like enjoyment of the snow
a novelty for me, but not for most of the French.
Imperceptibly almost we had climbed from 625m to 1108m,
no wonder it had got colder!

People were friendly
a shared bond after a first day's walk
and the shared meal of demi-pension.
To our hosts I owe gratitude
for such a welcoming end to the first day
a chance to gather strength for the next one.......

Le Puy en Velay: YouTube

2008-07-17T19:28:00.018+12:00

Day2: 15 April- Montbonnet to Monistrol-d'Allier

2008-07-17T19:28:00.016+12:00

Snow lay on the ground this morning
as I climbed up past farms,
then through forest
where everything was still
and snow hung on the leaves of the fir trees
magical, beautiful
Then came the descent to Saint Privat d'Allier
that I had been warned about
so I took extra care, and came down safely

to discover a magnificent 12th century church
Romanesque, its arches hewed from volcanic rocks.
Those who have done the Le Puy route
will all quickly tell you how up and down it travels
at the beginning.
The path climbed again out of St Privat
as I listened to the bells tinkling on the sheep nearby.

The chapel of Rochegude stood solid on its high rock
its position a statement from centuries past
its humble wooden floor, permeated with the very rock foundation
telling a story of simplicity to the present.
I ate lunch with a group on the hillock by the tower
camaraderie easy with fellow walkers
superb views all around.

A long rocky descent followed to Pratclaux
then more descent to Monistrol-d'Allier
resting place for the second night.

Day 3: 16 April- Monistrol d'Allier to Saugues

2008-07-17T19:27:00.013+12:00

I had heard about the steep climb out of Monistrol d'Allier
had seen how close the altitude lines were on the map
but in the end I found again that my fitness training counted.
A woman from Grenoble joined me as I slowly made my way up the steep road but I urged her on
...she was of mountain stock and I was holding her up.
She left me with encouraging words about each of us having our own rhythm.

It wasn't long before I came to this chapel,
at one with the volcanic rock,
photographed by everyone...
And after that the way became even steeper for a little while,
but taking it slowly, at my own pace
I was surprised by how quickly I had come to a place
where the slope reduced
and the walk became easy.

For a while I was surrounded by many hills
and my heart rejoiced as always with the views.
And later the walk became flat again,
with farmland that reminded me of home.

I was becoming used to the mud on farm paths
though I think the dragon-woman at the restaurant I reached for lunch was a bit shocked by my appearance!

There was another treasure of a place to stay this evening in Saugues,
a gite "a la ferme", aka the Martin's place.
My coming from New Zealand was a cause for some excitement
and I was given a wonderful room to myself
with views over the farmland
and when I went to the church that evening to get my credential stamped they already knew about the lady from New Zealand.
"Radio Camino" worked well in France!
Dinner as cooked by Mme Martin was a wonderful affair
with delicious food and good company: my four 'mates' from the first two nights saved me a place near them,
so they could help me
when the French around me was spoken too fast,
as I was the lone English speaker here...

Le Puy en Velay to St Privat d'Allier: YouTube

2008-07-17T19:27:00.010+12:00

Day 4: 17 April- Saugues to Chanaleilles

2008-07-17T19:26:00.011+12:00

In the landscape around Saugues, you pass quite a few local wooden sculptures as you walk. There is a wildness about them, that somehow speaks of the folklore that has been part of the isolation in the Auvergne for centuries.
This tower stood out against the dark sky at La Clauze,
-winter had not let go its hold of the Auvergne,
whatever spring blossoms were evident in Paris.

The day got colder, ever so much colder,
but somehow the people all got friendlier,
and all made cheerful comments on the cold day we were sharing. I bundled myself up warmly in multiple layers!

This region of the Haute-Loire has many crosses in the landscape.
At first I saw them as sort of a protection,
that people were praying for those who passed by.
But later I think I learned that they were in fact a means of warding off evil ones from the villages we were passing through.
(Don't take this conclusion as gospel truth though: I often got half the story right with my limited French...)
At Falzet, on a farm, a farmer's wife was serving hot chocolate etc in her barn, and I gratefully imbibed. The welcome was warm, and the shelter was very welcome to give a break from the bitter cold outside. The hot chocolate was just the thing on a day that was becoming bleaker and colder as it worn on.
The buildings in this area, made of the local stone,
looked sturdy against the elements.
I was deliberately taking 'short steps' these early days,
to break myself in gently... with such a long journey ahead...
It meant that many people I only saw on one day,
and then they passed on ahead of me along the trail,
but there were some people I came to recognise
who were walking similar stages to me.
There was a group of four ladies from St Etienne.
At Saugues they had befriended me
and made sure someone was speaking slowly enough for me at the dinner table.
This day they shared their lunch with me, local sausage and bread,
as we sat outside all bundled up against the cold while we ate.
(I haven't managed to make contact with these ladies to share my photos: if anyone reading this recognises them, I would be glad if you could tell them of my blog...)
And there was a family from Anjou, two parents and two of their four children, a daughter in her early 20s and a son who was about 8. I ended up staying in the same town/gite as them several times. This evening in Chanaleilles was perhaps the most special. We were staying in a gite a little way off the GR so there were not so many pilgrims. We arrived on this bitterly cold afternoon and the first thing that Mme Richard, the gite owner, did, was light the fire, which gave very quick and welcome warmth. Sitting in the comfortable lounge sharing some quiet time with this family, I felt very much 'at home'. At dinnertime we had to brave the elements to walk the short distance to the bar, but what a delicious meal. We had soup, perfect for such a cold day; then salad, with greens that the husband had collected freshly from the mountains that day. It was a lamb dish for a main. Great company and an excellent meal to give energy for the challenges of the next day.

Chanaleilles was only about a kilometre off the main track, and I am glad I stayed there. The cold weather limited exploration, but I saw the church, beautiful Romanesque with a distinctive belltower, and a medieval statue of the Virgin inside. And the gite was one of those very welcoming ones, pleasantly common in France, where the welcome in the afternoon gives renewed strength for the next day of walking.

Day 5: 18 April- Chanaleilles to Les Faux

2008-07-17T19:25:00.011+12:00

Chanaleilles at 1170m was already at quite a high altitude
and a slight climb followed towards Le Sauvage at 1292m,
so it was not surprising that bits of snow and frost lay around.
This shepherd's cottage seemed to speak of a harsh isolation.
There was the joy of daffodils and crocuses poking through the still icy ground.
At the Domaine du Sauvage, many stay in the gite,

with large and solid buildings
made of the mountain stone
that seek to protect from winter cold.
This horse was a personal favourite:-) And I had fun taking my shoe-print photo:-)

In this bleak terrain there was an evocative reminder
that this was an old pilgrimage route
with this statue of St Roch, at 1280m.
I stopped and thought of the many
who had passed by over the centuries.
I was surprised to see a group of Germans, in a hurry to cover the distance, go rushing by without a pause. Many seem to pass too quickly by along the Camino. I did it myself later on: you get in a walking groove that is somehow hard to break. (But *next* time, I intend to slow down even more, and *look*.)There was a sign that I was moving along the Chemin: I passed into Lozere...

Soon I met two Norwegian women walking
on this cold day in this bleak terrain
then discovered them having lunch
in the hotel restaurant at Les Faux
a proper hotel in such a remote place
where they did not turn a hair
at the muddy appearance of walking pilgrims,
and service was tops and the meal delicious.

I had lunch there with the Norwegian women
then retired to the comfortable gite.
Later the French family arrived
and we shared dinner at the restaurant. (Yes, food is always important to walking pilgrims...)

More excitement in the evening was provided for me in the form of heavy snow
that soon blanketed outside.
Excuse me if snow bores you,
but for me it is a novelty
and I woke during the night to look at it some more!
But it rained also, so this time the snow had mostly gone by morning.

Day 6: 19 April- Les Faux to Aumont-Aubrac

2008-07-17T19:24:00.021+12:00

For the last time I shared breakfast with the family from Anjou
as they were finishing their 'week' this morning, with plans for another week's walk in summer.
The architecture was changing in this region: this was something I liked along the whole route in France- seeing how the buildings differed in each new region. This particular building with its rounded end seemed to me to be from a much earlier era....
I guess that I had been surprised so far along the Chemin that the paths had seemed so well 'manicured' compared to what I was used to at home. I had a feeling of excitement as I came to this wee climb that finally seemed more rough underfoot.
In the forest there was this mysterious wee hut.....
This particular day I had the first chance to check my e-mails, and one e-mail brought some hard news about a family at home. I stopped at this cross to pray for them, so far away.

The snow had all melted
but descents and ascents remained....
There was a steep descent into Saint-Alban-sur-Ligmanole.
This seemed to be the story of the route near Le Puy- and by now I had a rule in my head- "For every descent, there is an equal and opposite ascent!"

Old crosses along the way are reminders
of how many have walked this route.

I reached Aumont-Aubrac for the evening
attended evening Mass in the restored Romanesque church
with modern stained glass windows.
It was sunny and warm this afternoon,
such a contrast to yesterday.

At the gite, la ferme du Barry
I met old faces and new ones
and began to meet more pilgrims walking for the 'long haul'
many more of them walking on their own
so I started to feel like not such an oddity!

The gite owner, Vincent, arrived with fresh strawberries for the meal he was creating
a local meal to remember
giving welcome energy for the crossing of the Aubrac plateau that lay ahead.
His specialty was aligot- and I have seen photos of him creating it on quite a few people's blogs -created with pride and drama!

Day 7: 20 April- Aumont-Aubrac to Rieutort-d'Aubrac

2008-07-17T19:24:00.020+12:00

It was an early start - 6am - with all the men in the room 'needing' to get up then though they were all still around for breakfast at 7.15am! This was the only down-side of this gite: I was placed in a dorm room with all men!!!

I guess I was hoping for some 'bleak' on the Aubrac Plateau
and I was granted my wish in grand dollops.
There are not many photos today as my camera was buried deep in my pack for protection against the wet.
I was aware it could have been worse... perhaps snow... or a strong wind... even harder rain... but for the last 10km the rain was incessant and it became clear my over-trousers were not much more than 'shower proof' useless in the circumstances!
My pack was saturated, but my NZ pack liners -designed for the rain- worked well, and all my clothes inside remained dry.

The weather deteriorated with the day.
At the village of Finieyrois, and the preceding one
there were signs telling you to respect the privacy of these people, not to sit and picnic in their fields and gardens but to pass on through to the picnic area at the end of the second village. The growing popularity of the Chemin must be a cause of angst to these inhabitants who for so long have lived so remotely.
It was a shame the toilet was so firmly locked when I reached the picnic area though, as a dry place to change a layer or two would have been welcome on such a day!
I got my full share of bleak today.

In this mountain village
there was also a monument to celebrate a local peasant boy
who survived Buchenwald
and who became a bishop in the Peruvian Andes
standing up for the poor.
The walk to Rieutort d'Aubrac was along a wet slippery track and I had to be careful. At a high point when I was already saturated I could see the white yurts of the next gite in the distance. It seemed like a contradiction to have such a traditional design for the Mongolian cold, its colour a distraction in this landscape.
But I was glad all the same to be able to see the end of the day ahead of me and on arrival I instantly stripped off all my wet clothes, changed, and gratefully ate a hot bowl of soup.
The yurt was cosy and warm against the cold night and I slept comfortably, though fitfully, as I was nervous about the conditions I might yet have to walk in alone the following day.

Day 8: 21 April- Rieutort d'Aubrac to St Chely d'Aubrac

2008-07-17T19:23:00.012+12:00

I didn't sleep all that well, worried about enduring another long day of rain out in the open alpine region by myself, but I adopted a typical Kiwi approach today and wore polyprops under my shorts. It got me some strange looks during the day but it kept me much warmer!
Here you can see the local stone building style, clearly built to protect from the alpine conditions.
There had been several 'solo' women staying the night in the village, and here is one setting off, dressed up against the rain and cold. I couldn't walk as fast as she could, and I wished she couldn't walk so fast, leaving me behind... I would have dearly loved to be with a companion for the walk to the top of the pass. But I had to 'be brave' and continue....
The rain actually kept away for most of the morning, and I took the host' s advice to walk the first section on the road not on the track, which she said would be too boggy after all the rain.
Rivers and streams were overflowing. I have seen summertime photos taken at this same place, and the stream is quite small....
And as I took the road from Nasbinals to Aubrac, the mist came down
until finally nothing much at all could be seen.

Near the top, a couple of old monastic towers suddenly loomed out of the mist.
I truly felt like a medieval pilgrim then, my heart lifting at the sight of the rounded towers. I was aware that for those in earlier centuries, the bells rung from such towers would have been crucial in weather such as that today, to bring pilgrims to a safe and sheltered place. In Golinhac a few days later, I met two women who had crossed the pass the day after me: it was snowing, and they did not even see the towers at all- they could barely see their noses....

For modern pilgrims, shelter was in the form of restaurants. I was almost bemused by the variety of buildings around, until a French acquaintance noticed me and called me inside one of them. There I discovered there were cheery pilgrims by the dozens. I had soup and this enormous tart, great nourishment for walking.
The farmers at Nasbinals were finding it hard I heard as their cows are usually in the fields by now, but this year it has been too cold...

I took the Chemin from Aubrac, instead of the road, and was surprised that nobody passed me... it seems that others had heard advice to take this section by road and some even used taxis. I was surprised to see how full the gite was already when I finally made it down the hill!!! But I did not always grasp information in rapid French conversation....
Indeed it was a difficult dangerous descent by the path, slippery on the stones with water running down making the path like a stream in many places, and streams were rushing full. But it was an adventure!
This descent gave my feet a real pounding, and my soles were becoming very tender as I walked in saturated socks. It required concentration on such a tricky path but the consolation was that I moved seasons and saw closely the change from winter on the Aubrac Plateau, to spring as I came closer to St Chely. It had been daffodils and crocuses on high but they disappeared to be replaced by a huge array of spring wildflowers lower down.

A verdant, pretty valley.

Day 9: 22 April- Saint-Chely d'Aubrac to Saint-Come-d'Olt

2008-07-17T19:22:00.007+12:00

I had an enjoyable evening in St Chely, joining a few others for a delicious meal in a local restaurant. The municipal gite in St Chely was very warm and comfortable, and had a huge kitchen/lounge communal area. But, oh, the wake-up call was indeed a shock.... they set off the fire alarms to wake us all!!!
There is an historic pilgrim bridge that leads you on the way out of St Chely - but conditions were too marginal to take a photo. Yes, rain again....
The route was quite tricky in places with mud, so I was walking slowly and carefully.At one point, there was knee-deep icy cold water on the track that needed to be waded through, and I do mean icy!!
I was aware that at some point I might even find streams that were too dangerous to cross- but luckily that never happened. Trying to keep socks dry to help prevent blisters was not a possibility, and trouble was brewing on my feet.
But after two hours, suddenly a welcome hot drinks stop appeared and a very friendly farmer and his father arrived to chat, the instigators of such pilgrim comfort in the cold and wet.

This kind of pilgrim kindness was not so uncommon on the Le Puy route, and was always a pleasant surprise. In the wet conditions this morning, it did a lot to lift morale and raise a smile. A little later I passed this 'water point', with a tap and bucket underneath. It seemed like someone had provided this privately for the sake of passing pilgrims. In the weather conditions of today, I was not exactly in need of water, but passing summer pilgrims must be very grateful for this.
The rain continued heavily until noon when it eased off a little. By 1pm I was running low on energy- I hadn't eaten much for breakfast which was a mistake- then suddenly a lunch stop appeared on a farm. Mme Muriel at Grezes had the local specialty crepe -just what I needed-

and the views from her farm were lush and green, and quite beautiful despite the rain. The food gave me renewed energy for the last 3km until arrival in Saint-Come-d'Olt
where the street, approaching the church and this crooked steeple, was full of houses that displayed the shell and the Chemin link was clear in this town.
I stayed in the communal gitehistoric itself, and my bedroom on the top floor gave me a view straight to the steeple.
This steeple didn't end up being crooked by accident: there are others around that were built like this. The whole town was a museum: walking the streets was a special thing in itself. I have seen some glorious photos people have taken here in better weather, with sunshine!
This was just one of many historic medieval towns I was to pass through along this route. Many of them are not well known like those on major tourist routes, but they were fascinating places to explore.

Day 10: 23 April- Saint-Come d'Olt to Estaing

2008-07-17T19:21:00.019+12:00

I woke to the gentle sounds of the church bells from the nearby church of Saint Come d'Olt, at 7am.To start the walk, there was a bridge over the River Lot, which was flowing full and fast after all the rain. But this morning's walk started out very pleasantly, with no rain, and along a quiet road that passed close by the river.
I had shared my room at the top of the historic gite with this lovely kind French couple. They walked faster than me though and soon outpaced me. I never saw them again, sometimes the story of the Chemin.What I did soon start to see again though was sunshine- first it was just a hesitant light that seemed to be enlivening the buildings of the town that I was just leaving behind....
but soon the sunlight was illuminating all things around and making them look quite beautiful. It was an easy morning's walk near the River Lot.

Not long before reaching the attractive town of Espalion, you come near to the historic church of Perse, though you deviate slightly off the modern route to reach it. The deviation was made all the more tricky on this occasion as there was actually a circus- literally a circus- with the big top and animal's cages etc, along the path. With another pilgrim I walked through, heard lions roaring etc....This Romanesque church is in the process of being restored, and is on the UNESCO list of monuments associated with the pilgrimage to Compostela.
It was a reminder that pilgrims had walked this way in centuries gone by, and we were just a later part of the stream... And indeed here also, I saw my first horse-pilgrim go by.
Espalion itself was a very attractive town, alongside the River Lot, with the river running swiftly beside it. After so much rural quiet, it was a surprise to see how busy Espalion was with traffic etc. I took advantage of the modern pilgrim's means of communication and checked my messages on the internet! Then I decided to walk on, perhaps not the best decision given my tender feet and wet shoes.
To begin with, there was more walking on a road close by the Lot. I loved this particular region of France, Aveyron. It was green and restful, and full of historic interest. The building style had these roundly curved roofs which I found very attractive.

The next treat was to see the ancient church of Saint Pierre, just a short way off the track at Bessuejouls,
a treasure, where one could climb up to the upper chapel with its time-worn arches and look outside to the green growth that lay all around.
Two French families, that I had been meeting for several days in gites, also lunched here. Just behind the village, we all soon discovered that the 'easy' day walk was over.
Next came a climb in red sticky mud up a hill: after recent rain, climbing up the gooey mud on this hillside was quite a wee adventure in itself.
But the reward was some magnificent views again, so magnificent that I got lost as I regarded the fields of wildflowers. 'On the roof of the world', I missed a turn-off down a hill!
It meant an extra hour of walking on my already tender feet so by the time I had retraced my steps to find the turn-off for the downhill path, I trod slowly, feeling every stone and getting to Estaing seemed to take forever!
However, one of the special things about walking from Le Puy
was the warm welcome in so many gites.
Hospitalite Saint-Jacques was a place with a warm welcome, and when I arrived already late, 5.30pm, I asked to stay another day to rest my feet.
Strangely, this evening was a Kiwi-Oz night
and I slept near a bunch of English speakers
one of the few nights in France I met anyone else who spoke English!

Day 11: 24 April - Estaing, Rest day

2008-07-17T19:21:00.018+12:00

I had decided I needed a rest day.... I had arranged it with the gite... they didn't always allow it, but for me this day it was possible.... I knew that my feet needed a 'day off', but as everyone else in the dorm rose for their new day of walking, it didn't stop me shedding some tears.... I felt like a 'failure'. This particular gite was run by a small Christian community, and you were welcome to join them for the Office prayers. I went along this morning, but couldn't stop the tears falling from my eyes, though I tried to hide them...
It turned out to be a gorgeous day in Estaing, and the first really sunny day they had enjoyed this new spring.
After breakfast I stepped out gingerly on my sore feet into the town. I wandered down by the church: this is the path that ran by near it, and you can see the arches that have been 'closed in'. You climb stairs from here to get into the church. Like so many older towns, there are 'layers' of history.

I bought some compeed from the pharmacy, then wandered slowly down towards the bridge and the River Lot, sat on one of the seats there, and applied compeed to my blisters. (Ahhh what a difference it made to my walking comfort immediately!)

Not long afterwards, the two lovely women from the families I had seen walking over the previous few days came and joined me. They were going to be the 'drivers' for their family group this morning, so had some time to explore the town. As I talked to them, I couldn't help but shed a few more tears as I told them I had taken a rest day... They took me to the nearby cafe with them and they had coffees while I had a delicious hot chocolate. Already I felt so much better....kindness has its own healing effects.I spent quite a bit of this sunny day sitting on a seat near the river. I met quite a few locals as I sat there, people who guessed I was a "pilgrim" and who were keen to speak of their experiences of the Chemin, past, or planned, or longed for... I managed conversation in French not too badly... immersion they call it!
And I wandered, slowly, just a little, looking at the building styles around me. The chateau is being restored for the 'patrimonie' of France by former President Valéry Giscard d'Estaing.
Now that I had crossed the Aubrac Plateau, there were a few extra layers of clothing I felt I no longer needed: I found the Post Office and sent a parcel to my French friend Monique- lightening my pack even a little also made me feel better!

When I returned to the gite, they showed me the lovely garden area up the back, where my washing- that had been done for me by machine- had already dried in the sunshine. Amongst the spring leaves and the hens, I sat and looked around at the stone buildings and backyards, just relaxing. The bells rang with vigour at 5.30pm for the nearby Mass at 6pm, but I stayed sitting in the sunshine...
In hindsight, taking a rest day, to allow my tender blistered soles a chance to 'settle down', was absolutely the right decision and the best thing I could have done.

Day 12: 25 April- Estaing to Golinhac

2008-07-17T19:20:00.011+12:00

My feet felt so much better after a day of rest, and I began this new day with renewed enthusiasm. It was a beautiful, happy day as it turned out.The path began again a long a quiet road next to the River Lot- and this time, it was one that was reserved exclusively for pedestrians...
The first night in Estaing I had spent with several other Antipodeans (quite a rarity on this journey), but the second night my company was largely with a German group. Here are some of them setting off into the beautiful scenery of this day.

Gradually the walk left the river, and headed uphill. Surprisingly, there was not much mud, and I seemed to be half-way up in no time, and enjoyed seeing plenty of spring foliage and valley views.

Along some of the rocky cuttings, flowers were also announcing spring.
It was a much warmer day and later I walked in t-shirt and shorts, and even had a long lunch with my socks off, which was a real treat for my recovering feet.
I loved this whole area, so little touristed and so very picturesque.
I found the roof lines enchanting and was distracted looking at the buildings all along the way!
I arrived in Golinhac, and was so glad I had decided to stop there for the night. It was in a breath-taking position, sitting on the top of a cliff, with an uninterrupted view of the land below.
I can't believe I never took a photo of the scene... But I think the view was so awe-inspiring that I felt that a photo simply could not capture it, and I didn't want to take a small segment that simply couldn't reflect the whole. But I sat looking at that view for quite some time.

I was lucky with accommodation in Golinhac too. I went to the camping ground that has a very nice gite building. But it seemed like I was the only woman solo-walker that night, and the lovely lady who ran the place, didn't want to put me in a gite that was to be full of men that night. She said they would probably snore... She gave me a room in a chalet for the same price! -with my own bed in my own room, and my own shower- and later I had company of a couple in the other room of the chalet.

There was good company in Golinhac too. I had afternoon tea at the local restaurant with two French women I had seen first in Aumont-Aubrac: we sat outside enjoying the view. And later I had a long talk with a Swiss guy on 'my' chalet deck- he had already walked 750km from home, which seemed such a huge distance when I had hardly started. It was meeting people like him that provided me with inspiration along the way. Finally, there was a welcoming group of men (who were staying in the gite) to share the evening meal with.

Day 13: 26 April- Golinhac to Conques

2008-07-17T19:19:00.019+12:00

I breakfasted with the two French women, who turned out actually to be from this region, and who were to finish walking that afternoon in Conques.
Then it was time to leave the dramatic setting of Golinhac behind- and it felt like quite a wrench to leave it!
But I was soon traversing other attractive pieces of countryside.
I had quickly come to love this departement of France, Aveyron, the landscapes gentle and dramatic at the same time.
The day was warming up, and I was glad to find shade.
It was wonderful to walk beside this pretty babbling brook, without worrying that flooding might soon disrupt the path!
The Chemin wandered up and down hill to pretty villages like Espeyrac,
then Senergues. This was where I had lunch and chatted with an older German man who had also left from Le Puy. I had seen him on and off up to this point, then ate lunch with him along the path a few days after this, but I didn't really see him again, until one day near O'Cebreiro, nearly at the end. I think he walked faster than me in the early weeks, but as he was older, his knees started to suffer more with the descents, and I caught him up again. The Chemin was quite full of meetings and partings and meetings again...
After lunch it became increasingly hot, then difficult to walk in the heat. It was so hard to believe I had been in snow just a week before.
I passed the German group who were singing hymns in a small church.
It was a long descent into Conques, down a rocky path that seemed to take forever in the heat, and the monastery lay quite hidden in its valley until I was very near.
Then the sight of the village quite took my breath away.
And somehow, arriving here after two weeks walking, I felt I had become a pilgrim who belonged, rather than just a walker.

I had missed out on sleeping in the monastery though; being a weekend, I was told it was 'full' when I rang, (though I discovered later that they keep some places for walkers who turn up with packs on their backs.) Never mind, if the same happens to you, the gite communal was actually a pleasant place, newly redecorated, and I had good conversation there with others, some of whom I kept seeing over the next few days.
My most urgent need after walking in the heat of this afternoon was a good shower, which the gite provided! (This was a luxury medieval pilgrims would never have had!)
Conques was a beautiful place to wander in
with steep streets and so many medieval houses.
I went to hear the office sung at 18:30- only a small group of priests but people were able to join in and take part- and the sounds rose in the narrow church, angelic sounds. Then at 21.30 there was a concert (by a visiting group who were also starting as pilgrims,) -another taste of heaven.

Day 14: 27 April - Conques -Rest Day

2008-07-17T19:19:00.018+12:00

I had heard that Conques was a very special place and had always intended to have a rest day here. As it turned out, arriving for a rest day on Sunday was perfect timing, as many came to sing in the church, since the acoustics were like heaven from another age.

I woke early and walked down to the bottom of the valley, down the steep street to the bridge, and was pleased to find my fitness had improved and I never found the ascent too taxing. I visited the chapel of St Roch, then went to Mass where the music was sublime. In this narrow tall church voices just blended.

Then I explored a little, seeing buildings from different anglesbefore finding some shade in the cloister where I wrote postcards. On this very hot day, the abbey itself was pleasantly cool inside.
A choir had come all the way from Marseille to sing in the wonderful acoustics of this church- something they did annually it seemed- and a soloist sang Ave Maria.
I just sat quietly and enjoyed the pleasure of the sounds.
The day got hotter and hotter until the inevitable happened. I was in the church listening to vespers, when the lights flickered and went out, then thunder boomed very loudly. The head priest looked concerned. I think that perhaps lightning had hit the steeple! Then rain poured down torrentially. There would be no sitting outside and watching the world go by this evening!

Day 15: 28 April- Conques to Livinhac-en-Haut

2008-07-17T19:18:00.023+12:00

Quite a day this one!
It started with the inevitable climb out of the valley that held Conques. (I had already adopted the mantra 'to every descent there is an equal and opposite ascent'.) I had heard that the ascent was a hard one, but though the climb was steepish in parts, it was not as hard as I had feared, and reminded me of the Gorge walk. It passed through beautiful bush and reached the chapel of Sainte Foy, an old place of pilgrimage that had a great view back to Conques.
At this stage it was only 'spitting'.

I decided to take the Noaihac variant along the road as great views were promised of the Lot valley.
But the weather gods soon began to laugh at my hopes, and the whole valley soon became shrouded in mist. And oh dear, I became immersed in a thunderstorm, high up above the valley along this road, with no shelter in view. Have you ever walked in the countryside looking at forked lightning in the sky all around you? 'Kind of scary' would be quite an understatement!

But a low point of a different kind was about to overshadow this day. I got diarrhoea! (Too many lentils??!!) I was able to change once when I came to a public toilet in a village, but later it was just too wet to change again and I had to put up with it. Not nice at all!

There was a huge descent to make, and another huge, steep ascent through the industrial city of Decazeville. Under ordinary circumstances I would have opted to stop here and change my plans, but I knew the holiday of May 1st was looming
and I didn't like my chances of making new gite reservations... so I carried on... It was too wet to stop and attempt to clean myself up anywhere else along the path, and in any case, I didn't have much more to change into!

Somewhere up on the high road, there was a beautiful village church with a friendly man inside keen to display its details, like a scallop shell frieze, but I reluctantly left as I didn't want to get cold by stopping, and my French wasn't quite up to explaining to a kind old man that I had a problem and really needed to change my clothes again.... Arrrghhhhh!

It was a muddy tricky descent to Livinhac and I didn't realise I could have taken an alternative road route. That was not the only alternative I missed: it was too wet to examine the Miam Miam Dodo maps properly, and I missed the whole high-level route that avoided the huge descent/ascent into Decazeville! I could only groan when I realised that several days later!!
However, the day was about to get better. There was a warm welcome in the gite, La Magnanerie, where I slept in the historic tower that used to house silk worms. I showered, all my dirty clothes were washed, and ample drying racks were out for everyone's wet things. The trials of the day slipped away as I relaxed in the warm welcome of the gite.
And it turned out there was a warm welcome for pelerins in this parish and they were just getting underway for the season. There were drinks, something to eat and a pin to place on the map to show where I came from, Kiwis as always a novelty. Two priests from Conques had also come here for the afternoon, a quick trip in the car for them; a long hard day's walk in the rain for me!

We reserved to go to the camping ground for dinner and given the weather, they came to collect us in the car! I sat with good company on one side, people from my own gite, but on the other side was a rigid, critical German lady who expressed indignation at how much longer I had taken than her to walk the distance from Le Puy. (She had the good grace to look somewhat ashamed next day when I walked into her coming from a strange direction- they had 'cheated' !!!!) Fortunately she was not the 'normal' person you met along the Chemin and in any case, I was in for the 'long haul' and had deliberately walked slowly to start with to walk myself in, then had two lovely rest days, one for blisters and one to enjoy Conques. Speed is not all.

Ahhhh so you have had to read a long post this day, with complaints and not much in the way of photos because my camera spent most of the day buried safely away from the wet in the depths of my pack! But not every day can be heaven along the Chemin!!

Day 16: 29 April- Livinhac-en-haut to Figeac

2008-07-17T19:18:00.022+12:00

Fortunately, today dawned as a finer day, and even though there was mud on the path in places that told the story of yesterday's rain, spring abounded and brought its joy.
There were some lovely (flat!) rural paths to follow, and farmyards to pass....
I always loved seeing chooks close at hand.When I returned to New Zealand I needed to declare that I had been 'near farm animals'. I look so 'ordinary', not the sort to wander 1500+km, so it seemed like they checked my shoes for agriculture almost reluctantly! But on this walk, the farm animals do at times join you along the road, along the track...
Around lunchtime I reached another village, Saint Felix, that had quite the most magnificent toilets to date!!! And the church here was another one with seats for a lunch stop. There were a few faces I recognised from previous days, and I enjoyed being able to sit and enjoy lunch with them.
Then I joined a small group along the road for a few kilometres until their pace became too fast for me. At this stage of the walk I sometimes became sad when people I wished I could talk with some more were only part of my walk for such a short time but I guess I grew used to the fact that that was part of the Chemin.
There was more beauty to see, more abundant wildflowers, and tree-lined paths, and along the path to Figeac, these "beehive" shaped buildings began to appear, something for the shepherds I think.
But the path to Figeac seemed to go on and on and on -you can see houses from Figeac appearing below this 'beehive'- but it always seemed to be another "4km" away according to the signs. Talk about the scenic route gone mad!! There were some who had taken the short-cut to avoid Figeac, and they had some wisdom it seemed! Though once I had arrived and rested and had my shower...in fact I enjoyed wandering some of the interesting old city.

It was an enjoyable evening meal in the gite, shared with familiar faces from previous days. And there was some advice from the gite owners about a steep, nearby climb that took you straight out of the city rather than by the roundabout route through it.... A recently retired primary principal from Quebec was sharing my dorm room. He was a great guy to talk to, and he insisted I spoke in French: but when he realised I hadn't really understood about the shortcut, he took me back downstairs and made sure all the instructions were re-given slowly just for my benefit!

Day 17: 30 April- Figeac to Camping Pech Ibert

2008-07-17T19:17:00.009+12:00

After two longer days of 25km+ or so, I knew I would prefer a 'shorter' day next, rather than 30km to Cajarc. Looking at the Miam Miam Dodo guide, I found a rural alternative in the form of a camping ground, Camping Pech Ibert, where you could rent just a place in a shared tent or caravan cheaply enough. In the event, when I arrived and found I could rent a whole chalet for myself for a very reasonable rate, I did that!The people in the hotel in Figeac had taken photos to illustrate a shorter route back onto the Chemin, 4km shorter without the scenic diversions through the city that most of us had already explored the afternoon before. I was pleased to find that their directions were easy to follow.

Before I knew it, I was back on the Chemin, seeing more 'beehive' buildings,
and enjoying the sight of the stone farm buildings along the way.
There was a spring shower or two en route, but real heavy spring showers waited until after I had arrived at the camping ground.
I enjoyed lying on my bed looking out the window as the rain fell, congratulating myself that I was not walking in it this afternoon! My washing dried in the sunshine between showers on the verandah on my chalet, then I finished it off with the heating in the chalet, -it was great to know I would have dry socks for the morning.
Strangely, I was the only pelerin here this evening: so strange not to have company, but it gave me a chance to reflect on the journey so far and the people I had met.
I was the only one for dinner. The camping lady kindly rang ahead for Friday trying to reach a communal gite I had failed to reach by phone. She also only got an answerphone but emphasised in her message that I was a 'dame toute seule' (a lady all alone) and I felt sure already that I would have a bed, even though it would be a busy holiday weekend...

Day 18: 1 May- Pech Ibert to Cajarc

2008-07-17T19:16:00.009+12:00

I was given my own tray of things for breakfast, so I could leave whenever I was ready...
It was a misty start to the day. I soon passed this lamp-post, "Joy isn't in things, it is in us", which I was to "see" again when I reached the "Irish" gite in Moissac, as their computer desktop picture, though their version was lit by more sun I think, not mist as on this morning.

Maybe it is a thought that most who walk for an extended period come to believe and treasure. As you carry your simple belongings across the kilometres you walk, you come to recognise the simplicity of what is important in life: -people, both those around and those remembered from home- and the environment.
My fascination with the roof-lines in this area continued and the verdant moss on this stone wall I also loved.
The day started with mist, but gradually became sunnier and quite warm so that the paths shaded by trees were welcome.
The landscape was changing as I approached Cajarc, with flatter hills and more trees.
This was a land that also had its ancient stories hidden in the stones, and the track passed by this dolmen.
This is but one version of the photo -there is also a version that gives a better idea of the large size of these stones. But that photo has me in it, taken by a kind person in a French group whose path I was to often cross over the coming days- but as the blog-author I get to suppress photos of me if I wish! But I thank Annie for her continued interest and e-mails as I progressed, which meant so much from a fellow walker, and I hope to hear of your group's next stage in 2009!
Another sign of the changing landscape was this vineyard. The climb up on the road alongside it is actually much steeper than it looks!
It was a steepish, rocky descent into Cajarc, as the town lay in a basin surrounded by cliffs and in the heat that had developed, I was glad to arrive at the gite Le Pelerin which was an absolute haven of kindness.
I was given a bed in a lower room and it looked straight out the door over this garden to the cliffs beyond. I stripped off my shoes and socks, raised my legs up onto a pillow and lay there to relax with a wonderful sense of well-being.

Day 19: 2 May- Cajarc to Limogne-en-Quercy

2008-07-17T19:15:00.010+12:00

It was to be a short day- 18km seemed like a short stretch by now. A few kilometres from Cajarc was a short climb up to where the village of Gaillac sat above another cliff.I had become used to noticing 'little things', like snails and spider webs, as I passed by. Snails had indeed become my friends along the Chemin!
The landscape was flatter, with limestone outcrops along the way,
and trees abounded, clothed in spring leaves, providing welcome shade in what became a warmer day.
I met the couple I had shared the room with in Cajarc, when they stopped for lunch.
Then I continued on along the flat path, under the shade of more trees....
The only thing spoiling my calm was the fact this was a holiday weekend, and I wasn't sure whether I had a reservation in the gite communal or not.... I arrived to see a note on the door that it was 'complet' (full) but then found my name on a bedroom door. Ahhhh.... and I got to share with three lovely ladies, two of whom I had met before.

I managed to find a good internet connection in a stationery shop down the street. Then when I thought I would have a siesta, I was dragged out by one of my room-mates, despite the heat and my tired feet, to find the local lavoir, where laundry used to be done outdoors by the washerwomen. French women are always keen to point out lavoirs: they seem to identify keenly with the harsh conditions these poor laundry women worked under, washing clothes for the wealthy even when the water was icy....

We laughed a lot in that bedroom, that special French joie-de-vivre that walking Frenchwomen seem to have- though later there was fear of top bunks mixed in with the laughter. The good thing about only four women in the room - no snoring. The bad thing about only four women in the room - no avoiding the top bunks! But in the end we 'cheated', and we installed the woman who had ended up with the scariest bunk climb onto a mattress on the floor....

Day 20: 3 May- Limogne-en-Quercy to Vaylats

2008-07-17T19:14:00.005+12:00

It was an easy day's walk to Vaylats through more forest, nearly flat, though the day became very warm by lunchtime.

There was another dolmen to see, just a little off the track.....
And in the village of Varaire there was a 'lavoir' to view, where you could almost imagine the women of old slaving over laundry with cold icy hands.
The welcome was very warm at the convent of Vaylats, with a lay hospitalero taking me to my room, very comfortable, all to myself. This was a perk for a solo woman;-) Single men were in a shared dorm downstairs!
There was a view of the interior courtyard, hinting at grandeur from days gone by.These days, the convent seems to be a large part of the reason for the village. A couple from the US provided some excitement in the afternoon heat when a local farmer delivered them to the convent doors on his tractor!

The parish church, unusually for this "Chemin" part of France, was closed when I went exploring briefly, though of course it was a holiday weekend. The afternoon became far too hot for walking and I hid under a shady tree until nearly dinnertime.Interestingly, these days of early May just before Cahors, were the hottest days I experienced until later in June when I was on the last part of the Meseta....

All of us pilgrim residents had a delicious shared meal in the evening. There was a Swiss couple present who were walking to celebrate their 50th wedding anniversary. Their very presence made it a celebration for everyone else. Apparently we would usually eat with the nuns in their dining room, but they were having a 'chapter' with many visiting nuns this weekend. They made us very welcome in the morning though for a hearty breakfast before we started walking again.

Day 21: 4 May- Vaylats to Cahors

2008-07-17T19:13:00.009+12:00

Today I was heading back to where it all started two years ago - Cahors. It was at the hostel in Cahors where I had met so many people doing the pilgrimage, including one woman whose absolute joy at walking shone on her face. Plus just over the medieval bridge in Cahors, I had stumbled onto the Chemin at the point where it began climbing the cliff, and had been enchanted with the countryside. So the germ of an idea was born.... And it was a hot day in early May then too so I should have known what might have been in store....

The day began with a good breakfast at the convent, and I made steady progress for the next two hours while it remained coolish. But then the forest gave way to a motorway underpass, and I was reminded of a world of speed.... and was exposed to the heat emanating from the tarmac.

Next there was a surprisingly long plateau section above Cahors where there was not much in the way of shelter. Nor was there anywhere to get more water... and it became very warm.

This was a day when I had a lot of contact with Francoise and Roger, and they turned out to be guardian angels. After lunch, I ran out of water in the unexpected heat. Somehow or other it seems that we met a local who discovered we were low on water... he returned and gave my angels some water. They ran in the heat to catch up to me to share the water...cold fresh water.... Their kindness in giving me the water was every bit as restorative as the water itself.

It was a very steep descent on the final road section down to Cahors, possibly the steepest descent of the whole trip. On the descent we were surprised to meet a woman slaving her way upwards, on what must have been an exhausting climb in any weather, but especially in the heat. She was actually climbing uphill in the wrong direction: she had taken the wrong bridge out of Cahors, and needed to be on the other side of the city!! But it was hard for us to convince her of her error.... (In fact, I am trying to remember if we did manage to get her to turn around, and I don't think that we did....)Once we were across the bridge, there was a warm welcome from two women in the little pilgrim's reception office, who gave help with finding/ booking accommodation, and provided very welcome cool drinks on this hot day.

At the Cathedral also there was a table to welcome pilgrims and give information and support. I got to speak in English with an Englishman recently settled in Cahors.... My first visit to Cahors I had been here as a tourist- and I had returned as a pilgrim....

Day 22: 5 May- Cahors to Domaine des Mathieux

2008-07-17T19:12:00.018+12:00

Today was a very short day... only 5.5km. But it was also a day that I met two people who I ended up walking into Santiago with...

The reason for the short day was simple.... I couldn't get a booking in Lascabanes and I didn't want to walk 30+km to Montcuq. Apparently there is quite often a bit of a 'bottleneck' getting accommodation out of Cahors. (It is a common 'starting place', and most of those 'starting', rather than already on the trail, will have booked their first night out from Cahors before leaving home...)

So I had some time to explore Cahors in the morning, and use the Post Office etc. Being a Monday morning though, most places were closed... and then the rain began.

I had taken photos of the bridge from the lookout above Cahors two years ago, in brilliant sunshine. Today I was just lucky there was enough of a break in the rain to see the bridge!
I enjoyed the walk from Cahors, a trip down memory lane, and I still seemed to remember so many of the turnings along the road... The climb up the cliff was shorter than I remembered, though trickier this time with a full pack on. I was soon back at the Cross de Magne. There were red poppies in the fields again, but this time instead of being open in the sunshine, they were closed in the rain.

I arrived before lunch at Domaine des Mathieux, and was warmly greeted by a kind hospitalera. The rain began pelting down so I didn't mind not walking any further this day....

There was a sign saying it was 350km from Le Puy - a good reason for a small celebration in my heart. The sleeping rooms all had 'names' so I chose to sleep in 'Le Puy en Velay', a fitting room name to mark this achievement.And it wasn't just humans who found the rain hard going on this day....

Day 23: 6 May- Domaine des Mathieux to Montcuq

2008-07-17T19:12:00.017+12:00

One advantage of a good gite can be local knowledge about tracks, and we were told of an old hunting track that would avoid a climb in the muddy conditions....

There were some beautiful spiderwebs along the way that told a story of overnight rain
but today rain only threatened and the low cloud just remained grey. There was a small amount of mud in the morning, nothing major, and the 17km stretch to Lascabanes passed quickly. There I joined Lyne and Denis on a seat for lunch, the first of what were to be many shared meals along the way.
One of the special things about walking in France was the little Romanesque chapels you would meet along the way, nearly always open, so you could pop in for some quiet thoughts.

The afternoon walk was about 9km to Montcuq, and after the quick progress I had made in the morning, I was expecting it to be a hop, skip and a jump away...

but mud intervened,
thick, sticky claggy mud
that clung to your boots
and weighed down each step.
Yuk!
I slipped and slid along the farm tracks. Doesn't this one just look so innocuous and simple to walk along? Not! But the "Dds", a French couple I was to see a lot of over coming weeks until Viana, were also negotiating this terrain, and there was someone to laugh with as we cursed at the way we had to 'ski' along in the thick mud.
La Soleillou was another welcoming gite... and soon the mud was gone from me and my shoes....

Day 24: 7 May- Montcuq to Lauzerte

2008-07-17T19:11:00.007+12:00

After several quite 'flat' walking days, it was a shock to my system that I needed to climb quite a bit today, up and down on rolling farmland.

The nature of the landscape was changing, and there was heavy cultivation in this area, with a lot of wheat and other crops. The sight of a church steeple behind a crop of wheat was one that was familiar to me from when I cycled in the Loire....
There was some wind today as well, and the pattern that it made on the wheatfields was quite mermerising....
Suddenly the town of Lauzerte appeared, in the heat of a hot day, on top of a steep hill. Oh no! - after a morning of quite strenuous walking I suddenly never felt quite up to it. Ahhhh, but there was a restaurant at the bottom of the hill. It was a delicious meal, and they didn't even mind my muddy shoes... And after a meal, the climb was easy.

There was a lovely, relaxed welcome at 'Les Figuiers', which remains high on my list for best places to stay. The couple whose home it was were very natural and genuine, and I loved it there. The gite was fully booked and I got to sleep in a bedroom in the house itself... one of several times being a single woman walking on my own brought such a treat. Michel also spent some time in the evening helping me try to sort out some onward reservations: I had thought I was very clever knowing that May 8 was a holiday, and managing to book in Moissac for 8-9 May - but what I hadn't realised was that the whole long weekend from Thursday to Monday was a holiday.......!!! If you come to France in May, you have to be sure when all the holidays are...

There was time for some exploration of Lauzerte, a medieval town that begged to be explored. And having climbed its ramparts, the views back down onto the surrounding cultivated countryside weren't half-bad either!

Postscript: By the way folks, before I forget...you don't stay in the gite communal in Lauzerte... there has been a longstanding problem with bedbugs there that they don't seem to be doing anything about.... Next day in my gite in Moissac they were involved in preventative action with anyone who had stayed in the gite communale in Lauzerte... their packs were put into plastic bags.... they had help to wash all their clothing... and they were not able to use any of their own bedding... Apparently they physically see the bugs leaving the packs that have been in that gite....

Day 25: 8 May- Lauzerte to Moissac

2008-07-17T19:10:00.005+12:00

There was a lot of evidence today that this area has the climate and rich soil for cultivation.
The path was 'undulating', changing catchments from the Lot to the Garonne. It was an interesting walk, but one that was on the hard road surface a lot, and my feet had some renewed tenderness by the time I had reached the outskirts of Moissac.Then came another of these very individual 'rest areas', not an unusual sight in France... sometimes very simple and occasionally quite elaborate, where someone has put themselves out to make pilgrims welcome.

My feet were sore and it seemed like maybe a blister was close to forming, so I sank gratefully onto this simple seat. I had a drink, took off my shoes and socks, and made some running repairs with plaster.
Then I gratefully ate one of the sweets someone had left here, put on my shoes, socks and pack again, and had renewed energy for the last few km walking in the city of Moissac itself. The person who made this simple seat might never know how welcome some pilgrims find it....

And what a treat I had in store yet.... I was staying at the "Ultreia" gite owned by an Irish couple, whose welcome was warm and personal. And in English! There was sunshine, and a shared meal on tables in the back garden in the evening....

Day 26: 9 May - Moissac - Rest day

2008-07-17T19:09:00.006+12:00

I had heard about the treasures of Moissac well before I arrived there, from quite a few French people who also loved Conques.

When I was cycling in the Loire in 2006, I kept 'stumbling' across images of St Martin sharing his cloak, and somehow I was powerfully attracted by its message. Here in Moissac I found St Martin again sharing his cloak on capitals in the cloister.

In the church there was so much to look at,
and these medieval statues held my attention for a long time. The emotions experienced by those burying Christ seemed so very real when I looked at this medieval sculpture.
Rom, at the Ultriea gite, told me about the singing of the nuns at Lauds and Vespers in the abbey. Such a small group of nuns, and their voices were transformed into something angelic.
My rest day in Moissac was wonderful, staying at Ultreia with Rom and Aideen, and being 'aunty' a little while with their baby boy, was like being with family. Plus they had a foot spa which rejuvenated my feet! And I was able to spend some time just lazing on my bed with a book....
And it was surprising how many others I saw downtown, also taking a break for an extra day in Moissac.... even the mule I had last seen at Domaine des Mathieux in the rain.... I was in good company.

Day 27: 10 May- Moissac to Auvillar

2008-07-17T19:08:00.004+12:00

Leaving Moissac I was soon walking alongside the canal, first near the River Tarn, and later the Garonne. It was easy flat walking, mostly under trees, and was very pleasant. There were apparently poisonous vipers along here too, but I am glad I never saw them! There were canal boats of various kinds to watch, and several times I stopped to watch the lock operated, seemingly more or less in an automatic way.
I climbed, as Rom had suggested, to the village of Malause, a pleasant village with the cleanest, flashest set of public toilets I had seen anywhere. As I sat on nearby seats munching and drinking, a woman approached me. Turned out she was a former pilgrim. She had some dire tales to tell though, as it seemed like the heat in Spain had stressed her heart, and she had suffered depression once she finished and had no other 'project' in her life. Her story remained alarmingly in my mind and made me want to rush through Spain before the heat hit... She now does the Camino routes by camper van, supporting her husband who walks. He told me he hadn't enjoyed the Portuguese route so much as it was largely on busy roads. But he loved the route from Seville, though it was harder as you needed to take longer stages....It turned into a bit of a reunion day, with the Dds, and Lyne and Denis from Quebec, all of whom had also had a rest day in Moissac. We had a short break on the seats at the end of Espalais, before tackling the climb up into Auvillar.
We crossed the Garonne, and in this area, these atomic chimneys were always present in the landscape, and I always find myself with an uneasy feeling knowing they are nearby...

After Espalais the climb to Auvillar broke the flatness of the day. We grimaced at the steepness, but really it was only steep for a short stretch.

Auvillar is a beautiful old town with this central rotunda that was used for measuring grain. There were many arched arcades, and a lovely clocktower.
This was a holiday weekend, and none of us had reserved in the gite communal in time. I was in a chambre d'hote for the first time -like a B&B. I found it a bit strange, as I had absolutely beautiful facilities, like a very comfy bed and my own bathroom with luxurious towels, but I felt rather isolated, and as if conversation with the couple whose home it was, was not part of the 'deal'. (It was also more costly, and I paid what I usually paid for demi-pension - though I found a wonderful restaurant in the village where I ate later.) But there was plenty to see back in Auvillar where I went wandering...

Day 28: 11 May- Auvillar to Miradoux

2008-07-17T19:07:00.005+12:00

I found myself really enjoying the countryside in this area, clearly a fertile area that is a fruitbowl and a vegetable patch for many.
It didn't take long to reach the villages of Bardigues, then St Antoine, a beautiful village where I could easily have stopped the night if it wasn't still so very early in the walking day...I had some unexpected company along the way - a friendly dog. Turns out this wasn't the first time in the past week he had followed pilgrims though, and the barman in St Antoine knew the number to telephone for the embarrassed young owner.
There was a climb up to Flamarens, and again some farmer along the way had put out coffee etc for pelerins... and some boiled eggs. I gratefully ate one of those.
At Flamarens were the ruins of a church and a chateau that had commanded a prime hilltop position. An artist who had a painting studio also had a 'buvette' and I was glad to have a break, sipping a lemonade under a shady tree. He had quite a few non-bag-carrying pilgrims stop for a drink, but seemed impressed I was carrying my luggage, and gave me another drink for free.
Before I left Flamarens, the bells rang from the church tower with great joyful abandon, presumably because it was Pentecost.... I loved these sounds when I heard them in Europe: sadly we have largely controlled such 'nuisances' out of existence back home...
Only four kilometres of walking remained, but there was another climb, to another hilltop town.
In Miradoux I was staying with Therese, who has welcomed pilgrims into her home for many years. She used to be a farmer, and now works hard to nourish plants that grow in profusion around her house. Most of the others staying this night were a German group who were 'car supported'. There was a French woman cyclist there as well with whom I enjoyed conversation: she had passed through Aubrac just a few weeks later than me and she found that the spring flowers blooming there were amazing. The elderly Swiss couple were also here, and it was wonderful to see them still on the road.....

Everything was quiet in the town for the holiday, but a slow wander in the village soon showed signs of the pilgrim history of this place, with these scallop shells decorating the church.

Day 29: 12 May- Miradoux to Lectoure

2008-07-17T19:06:00.015+12:00

Theresa's house looked beautiful with all the flowers in the morning sunshine. The 5km walk to Castet-Arrouy seemed to quickly pass by, with this ruin in sight amongst the crops along the way.
Castet-Arrouy was a village with a very welcoming feel to it. There was a stamp for credentials in the porch, and seats outside the church, where all walkers seemed to be stopping for a break in the sunshine. A local man came by and had welcoming words and a smile for all who passed.

It was another day passing crops and flowers in this fertile part of France.

Sometimes there was welcome shade along the way,and sometimes you shared the sunshine with the growing crops.
I spent time walking with the two Quebecois... here are some feet taking advantage of the sunshine at lunchtime!
Lectoure was yet another interesting old town, and we passed through its old walls as we climbed up to it, yet another hill-top town with its medieval past evident. The two Quebecois spent the night in the parish gite, where they had dinner with the two local priests as well as fellow pilgrims. I used the Cathedral as a place to find welcome respite from the heat, and later from the subsequent thunderstorm. And I stayed in another great gite, l'etoile occitane, run by a lovely young woman who is a former pelerin herself.
She did helpful things like book us into the only local restaurant open for dinner on this holiday evening. And it was a great meal, even if I did hear horrifying things about the vipers and ticks in the long grass. I went to bed thinking I would certainly have my Camino ended sooner rather than later by a snake in the grass, or even more likely, a dose of Lyme disease from a tick. As you can tell from this blog... neither event eventuated, but I was nervous from then on whenever I walked in long grass.....

Day 30: 13 May- Lectoure to La Romieu

2008-07-17T19:06:00.014+12:00

There was the decision everyone had to make at Lectoure: to go or not to go to La Romieu, a detour. I am glad I decided to go...

It was quite a warm day, but there was welcome shade along the way that made the climbing easier than I had expected.
Quite suddenly, the Collegiale stood out on the flat ground, almost directly ahead.
The cloister and church were both well worth a visit. There was much history that you wouldn't expect to find in a small out of the way place, about a cardinal and temporal power...
There was also a lovely gite here, that had been converted from an old convent.
The dormitory was beautiful, light, airy and spacious, and there was a warm welcome.
Another feature of La Romieu was the beautiful roses that were in full bloom all around the town.
There was also the legend of the young woman and the cats....

Day 31: 14 May- La Romieu to Condom

2008-07-17T19:05:00.006+12:00

La Romieu has little cats dotted all around in odd places on buildings in the village. The legend about the young woman who saved the cats has been treated imaginatively in the modern town.
You have to look hard to find the 'cats' on window ledges, walls..... I didn't find them all.... but it was fun looking....
There were more cultivated fields lining today's walking route. I am glad I was here in spring as everything was starting to grow.
You learn before you have walked far along this route, that everyone has their own idea about how far it is to Santiago.... signs never quite coincide with the same distance....
but I was very glad to see this encouraging home-made sign whether it was accurate or not! Finally I was about to walk into three-digit territory.

In Condom I caught up with my Quebec friends in time for lunch, then the rain began pouring down.... but I found an internet cafe where I spent the next two hours catching up on e-mail and the blog, with no queue of people behind me needing the computer.
The cathedral in Condom was majestic... but I found it sad.... it was like a huge dead shell that no longer seemed to have much real life lived in it apart from a few tourists and pilgrims gazing around.
It was a weird evening meal in the gite, with a strange combo of things I had bought, but fresh strawberries were delicious. It was a quiet peaceful time with my Quebec friends until we started talking about songs... and then we discovered there was internet on the computer in the lounge. We used it to find the lyrics for 'Ultreia', and "Climb every mountain" which we sang lustily. And when a group of Frenchwomen arrived home they all joined in as well. It was a joyful night to remember!

Day 32: 15 May- Condom to Montreal-du-Gers

2008-07-17T19:04:00.013+12:00

As we ate a hearty breakfast in the gite, we talked with the gite owner, and discovered that he had walked the Camino five times...
The ground was becoming quite flat in this region. And as well as crops, we passed quite a few vineyards today.
As my Quebec friends came from Montreal, they had a special interest in coming to this town with Montreal in its name. And the town seemed particularly welcoming. The tourist office woman was very helpful. And there was a small museum attached that gave some ideas about the nearby Roman villa ruins, as well as information about early mammal fossils, and neolithic objects found in the area. Later I learned it was even possible to go to the Mayor's office and use a computer to access the internet.... a very welcoming young man left his desk so I could use his computer.. wow!When we rested at our gite for the night, we saw groups of school-children walking back from the Roman ruins. To finish the day....there was a spectacular thunderstorm .

Day 33: 16 May- Montreal-du-Gers to Eauze

2008-07-17T19:04:00.012+12:00

Well, you can tell there was rain today... not much to choose from in the photo department as it rained quite a bit of the day! I took this photo of the southern-style tile roofs indoors in the afternoon... from the window of the gite communal.
The first part of the day's walk was through vineyards, a bit boggy in places.... but not too bad. Then the track switched to a long straight section where the former railroad track had run. The surface was comfortable to walk on...and less boggy. Trees lined both sides. On a summer's day they would bring welcome shade, but I actually enjoyed walking there on this wet day, watching and hearing the raindrops fall on the leaves.
It was not a long walk to Eauze. One of the things I found frustrating about this part of the south of France was that you either walked 16, 17 18 km..... or you walked 32... 34.... 38.... and I tended to find the thought of 30+ km too much, but the shorter option made for slow progress through this region. (Once we reached Spain, it was easy just to add another 3, 5, or 8km to the distance already walked... but in the south of France, the distance between gites was much greater.)

With an early arrival in Eauze it was a little too early to go to the gite. So I had lunch with a few other pilgrims under the arches in the main square, along with a noisy school group also sheltering there! In the gite itself I shared the room with some friendly students from Eastern Europe.

Day 34: 17 May- Eauze to Nogaro

2008-07-17T19:03:00.008+12:00

There were signs that I was coming closer to the day when I would have to cross the mountains...and that was kinda scary ;-)
The advance of summer was showing with the increasing growth on the vines (though this photo does not reveal how very muddy it was walking near the vineyards this day!)
New architectural styles showed I was moving further south
and the ground was becoming much flatter.

In the gite in Eauze I shared a room with some lovely young Czech students but I am afraid that their footwear was not really adequate for the muddy path today and they retreated, perhaps to take a faster route via the road.

I had lunch on the porch at Eglise de l'Hopital, next to graves, but they were surrounded with roses so it was amazingly pleasant!

I have to say I found Nogaro to be the most missable town I passed through in France, except for its gorgeous Romanesque church. There is a long main street, without any real square, and it seemed to lack the friendly heart in so many other French towns. Accordion music was blaring as I passed down the main street but when I tried to find its source I realised it was the canned variety from loudspeakers.

And my gite was also in the weird category - a half-pi gite. It was on the outskirts of town. I had a gorgeous big room, well decoratedbut although the plumbing was new, it didn't all work right. An English couple arrived and had the same view as me that something about the atmosphere just never quite added up. The Englishman saw evidence of drug use in the kitchen
so I guess that explained things. And the gite communal was reportedly no better really as it was next to a motorsport track, and engines roared all day......
Somehow Nogaro was that kind of a town.

Day 35: 18 May- Nogaro to Lelin-Lapujolle

2008-07-17T19:02:00.018+12:00

If Nogaro was missable, the next night was to be very memorable.... The walk passed quickly - vineyards, forest, mud... and some more mossies. They 'like' me and I received more evidence to prove it!

Somewhere in the middle of the forest, this little cabin for pilgrims appeared. Mostly you never know who erected these treasures.
It was great to have a place to sit and eat some lunch. A couple arrived who had also walked from Le Puy, and the woman was feeling quite tired today. For her, the appearance of this little cabin was like a miracle, and it made her very happy to be able to relax here.
I met Alain again on the track, for about the third or fourth time, so I took his photograph. He has a unique method of doing the Chemin. He has a bicycle on the back of a campervan. Each morning he cycles and locks his bike up somewhere along the route. Then he walks back along the path to where he spent the night, and then drives to where his cycle is. So, as he is walking backwards, he gets to meet everyone along the trail, often on more than one day. (And in fact the next time I saw him, he got his camera out and took a photo of me!)

The handmade, home-made signpost for Gite Dubarry gives an idea that it is in fact a special place. The country couple who run this gite are lovely people. I was told that I was the first Kiwi visitor for this year, and that usually they see about 3-5 Kiwis a year. Last year they had a Kiwi there who was living in Switzerland, teaching snowboarding.
They were in the process of building a new gite next to their house, but it wasn't quite finished. (It has been finished now though and someone I know who stayed there raved about how beautiful it was!) I arrived and was then transported by van to a local house, where I found my Quebec friends already in residence. We spent a relaxing afternoon, feeling very much 'at home'. In the evening we were picked up by van again and taken to the family home where we had a delicious dinner. The home is full of various bits of sculpture that Philippe has done... he is quite an artist. And he drew a 'sheep' design for the 'stamp' in our credentials, very special.

Gite Dubarry was a wonderful gite, but I was a bit lucky to get a bed here! The accent in this part of France is a bit different from further north, and the way I say demain/dimanche (tomorrow/Sunday) is not 'correct' here.... and they had expected me the day after I had telephoned. Luckily there was still a bed, and my Quebec friends who had already arrived assured the man that I was coming today. (After this, I always included the date when I rang up to reserve, especially if it was for a Sunday!!)

Day 36: 19 May- Lelin-Lapujolle to Aire-sur-l'Adour

2008-07-17T19:02:00.015+12:00

It was a quick, flat walk to Aire-sur-l'Adour, not the most interesting of walks. I arrived in time to eat lunch, then made my way to the gite, Hospitalet St Jacques. It was a wonderful place to stay. Both owners were former pilgrims, and they were definitely targeting the walking pilgrims, (not the car-supported kind). You could only ring to reserve here two days before. They had all beds, not bunks, and there was a beautiful kitchen/dining area downstairs. Gorgeous garden too, but it was too cold/wet to enjoy it this afternoon.
Both Odile and Andre made time during the afternoon and evening to sit and talk to pilgrims. It happened that accommodation had become very tight in this region for the next week or so, and I was nervous as I had been unable to reserve beds for upcoming nights. This was just the sort of concern that these willing hosts took seriously, and they helped people make reservations when it all seemed too hard. Odile even thought to make a morning phone call to a gite I had been unable to reach, and made a booking for me.
It turned out that the reason for the accommodation difficulty was that several groups were leaving Aire-sur-l'Adour right around this time. A large group of 17 from Dijon, complete with their two vans, were on the road, and their stages until Roncesvalles were to be nearly the same as mine. They had of course booked for their large group many months before... (I gather though, that once this bulge had passed through, finding accommodation became simpler again.)

Aire-sur-l'Adour was a place that seemed to welcome pilgrims in various ways. L&D had had trouble finding accommodation, and the lady in the tourist office used up 20 minutes of her lunchtime, ringing around until she found them a place. There was an active welcoming group at the Cathedral as well. And when we arrived at the restaurant in the evening, without a reservation, to find it already very full, they cleared a worktable and served us willingly.

The Cathedral here has part of its ceiling being repainted, and the restored section is quite magnificent. St Quitterie, uphill from the gite, has a romanesque part and a crypt, layers upon layers of history.

Day 37: 20 May- Aire-sur-l'Adour to Miramont-Sensacq

2008-07-17T19:01:00.005+12:00

The first bit of the walk this morning I had lots of company..... from a huge group of day-pack pilgrims. It was hard not to feel malice towards them when I felt so anxious about finding a bed!!! But before long we were walking beside a lake, quite a novelty really on this whole walk. It was hard to retain malice in such a peaceful setting.
Again, there were newly sowed fields to pass on very flat ground,and L&D walked not too far away from me, though their walking pace was faster than mine. I was still slow and steady.... a true tortoise still after all these weeks....
Several times this morning I ended up talking to a young Swiss woman who had slept in the same room in the gite. It seemed that 12km passed quickly, and we had reached Latrille, a village that provided a shed with tables and chairs and a coffee machine. This was next to a church, where I heard a man singing joyfully, the same man who I had heard singing the previous day in the Cathedral.

I wasn't expecting anything very special for this night's accommodation, in the gite communal, but I was very wrong. It turned out that the Landes region Jacquaire group take responsibility for hosting this gite as hospitaliers. I was given a very warm welcome by the elderly woman who greeted me. (And L&D had saved me a bottom bunk in the same room as them...) And later the hospitalier's brother arrived, and he was a fount of knowledge. The regional group have made a DVD about the routes through this region, and it included detail about the churches we would pass the next day. And we were provided with a shared evening meal, donativo.

I loved this sign in the village with its very Kiwi connection. I thought that there was an error, and that the sign should read "Eden Park". But a Frenchman explained to me that Pack was used deliberately as a French play on words, to reflect the rugby scrum.

Later in the afternoon L & I took some time to sing in the village church. (She loved doing it... I was always a little shy in case a stranger should walk in! 'Next' time I walk the Chemin, I hope I will be much more brazen!!)

Day 38: 21 May- Miramont-Sensacq to Arzacq-Arraziguet

2008-07-17T19:00:00.004+12:00

After watching the film yesterday evening, I felt more like a pilgrim today as I passed churches that I knew more about, that had been on the pilgrim route for centuries. Sensacq had a lovely chapel with a very old baptismal font. And others who had been in the gite were also checking it out. The French couple here had shared our room, and had already walked the Camino Frances another year. They told a moving story about how they had arrived in Santiago, and walked hand-in-hand into the Cathedral, with tears in their eyes. They said that they had not even realised they had 'lost' each other in their marriage, but they knew they had 're-found' each other by walking the Camino together.

Pimbo was a very welcoming place, and we were even able to clean up our muddy shoes a bit before continuing, as well as sit and relax a little in the sunshine. I had the odd experience here of a German women needing me to translate her English into French for the information office lady, so that accommodation could be booked... I was seen to be a fluent French speaker in some quarters!!!

Around lunchtime it became quite warm, and we were exposed to the heat on the roads here. There was a telephone box near the gite in Arzacq, and I was finally able to get through and make some more reservations. I was glad to get a bed in Orisson, and two nights in SJPP. The end of the French section of the walk began to be in sight.... suddenly there was 'only' 144km to reach the mountain pass on the Pyrenees.... truly, it didn't seem far at all....
And signs were starting to appear in Basque as well as in French.

I had a single room, complete with its own bathroom, all to myself, here in this gite. It was because I had got the very last remaining bed when I rang. L&D finally ended up staying here too, 'camping' on the floor in a spare room, as there were just no spare beds in the whole region, with several large walking groups around. (Apparently though, this was a bulge, and things were definitely quieter in a day or so!)

We enjoyed a shared dinner, next to five French people, who have been doing the Chemin over several years in week-long stages. When they began in Le Puy, they did 30km days. But the following year, they decided to take time to enjoy the walk more, and reduced their daily distances to around 20km or so. People after my own heart!

Day 39: 22 May- Arzacq-Arraziguet to Uzan

2008-07-17T18:59:00.027+12:00

I enjoyed the luxury of my single room, and relished the chance to have a second long shower when I woke up in the morning. Trouble was, it was so quiet in my own room, I woke up late without realising it, and was almost too late for breakfast!

There was quite an array of friendly home-made signs along the track leaving Arzacq, always a boost for the morale!
There was also another lake to pass, peaceful, with lots of birdlife. It was another overcast day, and it seemed like there would be more rain, but it ended up being light rain that never lasted long.
In Louvigny there was a 'pilgrim' stained glass window in the church with this cockle shell, staff and gourd.
Somehow the last leg into Uzan seemed to be tiring, but there was a very welcome surprise waiting. There was a lady who had this sign on her front gate.

And in her back garden was set up this umbrella over a table. You could serve yourself coffee or a cold drink, or....... there was delicious cake! (And like all these wonderful places in France, there was a little container where you could leave a small donation.) I stopped and talked with others who also stopped. I especially enjoyed speaking with a couple who lived near Paris, who had also started from Le Puy. They were in their 60s, but were very fit and didn't look their age! I was to enjoy meeting them a few more times over the following days.... and am actually still in touch with them by e-mail.

After a good rest time, the others moved on, but I was staying in a house in the village. The invitation to come in and 'install' yourself was on a little note on the door. The farmers were busy with their farm tasks and would appear later...
It was the feast of St Quitterie, and this town had an old fountain to the saint. Apparently if women bathed their faces in the fountain on the feast day, wonderful things happened to the skin on their faces. I found the fountain, and it was certainly wet on the ground around it, so people had been bathing their faces there..... I didn't fancy getting my knees all muddy though!

Next morning I had breakfast in the farmhouse opposite. The cows were in the barn adjoining the kitchen, and I had some of their fresh milk. Like many villages in this area, the farmhouses were all grouped together, and had space for their animals nearby. But a lot of the fields were further away and the farmer travelled on his tractor to get to them. Quite different from the very 'separate' farms we have here at home in NZ.

Day 40: 23 May- Uzan to Cambarrat

2008-07-17T18:59:00.026+12:00

It was time to set off in the rain (again!), though it was warm enough. The Pyrenees were getting closer, but it was hard to imagine I would see much of them, given the amount of rain we had experienced lately...

After about three hours the sun came out though. Took a slight detour to see this restored Chapelle de Caubin.
Next town was Arthez de-Bearn, and near the church there was seating from where you got a wonderful view of the Pyrenees.
Next I took a slight 'shortcut', along the previous route of the GR, a more direct route to the gite of Cambarrat, where I was spending the night.

And what a wonderful place it was to stay, in a gite attached to the family home of Nicolas and Isabelle and their children. The whole house has been built using old materials that Nicolas collected up, so although it looks 'old' and as if it has been on its site for generations, it is actually fairly new.
The weather decided to pack-it-in yet again in the afternoon, so there wasn't much delight in outdoor exploration. At one point I had my feet up on the bed, and L&D were 'visiting'. Isabelle came in and accused me of being "La Regne" (queen), with my courtiers paying tribute:- it was a label I was to hear again from my friends on the journey ahead! However, then Isabelle took us into the kitchen, where she hand-drew her 'stamp' in our credentials, and explained its meaning to us. She is very artistic and involved in designing Basque materials. Later she took the three of us 'foreigners' over to where the computers were, and her teenagers graciously made way for us to check our e-mails.
The meal was delicious and afterwards Nicolas came in to play his banjo for a while. We felt so very welcome in this place.

Day 41: 24 May- Cambarrat to Navarrenx

2008-07-17T18:59:00.025+12:00

I heard rain falling heavily and steadily all night, another day to set off in the wet. Luckily, the rain became lighter with morning, and it was not too muddy. But it still somehow seemed a long way to the Abbaye de Sauvelade.
Just past the abbey I was caught up with by the English couple from Nogoro, and walked with them all the way to Navarrenx. I was just in the process of stripping my polyprops from underneath my shorts, in a bus shelter, when they arrived. After so many weeks of walking, I guess I had become quite brazen about where I changed. However, when I later found it too hot, and felt that I needed to change from a long sleeved top to my t-shirt, they threatened to give me a new nickname!

Our convo on the walk ranged over many topics. They had both spent some time in NZ so we discussed their experiences there. But when we got to rugby the convo got quite heated from one side: as someone who rarely bothers watching the 'national' game I found it a bit hard to take the passion seriously!

There were several 'little' climbs along the way - getting into practice for the big climb that was to come in just a few days time.
When I arrived in Navarrenx I found that the gite was in another historic building. It was a friendly place to stay, with small rooms of about six beds, and a communal kitchen/dining area.
This was another town with an advertised welcome time for pilgrims at the church. But just before 6pm a thunderstorm struck, and there was a huge downpour, so I decided to stay 'in'.

Day 42: 25 May- Navarrenx to Aroue

2008-07-17T18:58:00.016+12:00

Rain was the theme yet again! Later I learned that many in private gites had been advised to take the road today, but the mud actually wasn't too bad, and the forest was very beautiful with all the raindrops.
The waterways were certainly all flowing swiftly after recent rain though. Amazing really that our path had not been blocked at some stage by floodwaters.
Outside a foie gras factory they had built a shelter that was quite a 'meeting place'. The factory owner seemed to have built this shelter purely as a service to pilgrims, being a former pilgrim himself. I saw L&R from Paris again here, and had my photo taken by the driver of the 'Dijon' van, who I had seen over several days: he seemed to see me, as a pack-carrier, as a novelty he needed to photograph!
The last section of the day's track was over farmland, and there were some wonderful views. But it was all too wet to get my camera out. It was tricky and muddy walking in places, but eventually I arrived, thoroughly wet, at the village gite.
There was a washing machine and dryer at the gite. It was far too wet to go out and explore, and so I thought it was time to give my sleeping sheet, and as many of my belongings as possible, the shock of a washing machine.

It was a friendly group that evening, and I met old faces and some new ones. When the lady came to collect our money, she also brought the key to some cabinets where we could buy food. There were sensible items like bread and margarine and soup and fish for purchase, in helpful small quantities, and there was also chocolate. Guess what nearly everyone bought??!!
Eventually the rain eased off enough to think of venturing outside a little. We thought the local church was closed and non-visitable. But I, being the non-native-French speaker, took more time to read the notices, and discovered how we could have access! There was a wonderful early portal over a doorway, plus some interesting Basque designs on some headstones in the cemetery. One of the French men staying there was able to share a bit more of the history behind these.
And later in the evening, the clouds lifted enough for the mountains to come into view from the porch area of the gite. It was cold out there, but I basically shamed everyone into leaving the warmth of the dining area inside to come and look! And as the sunset came closer, I remained to watch the magical view, as sunlight lit up different pieces of the ranges. A very special memory.

Day 43: 26 May- Aroue to Ostabat

2008-07-17T18:58:00.015+12:00

At home when I was younger we used to wait for the milkman to deliver milk on his truck. But here in rural France, it was the boulangerie van that made deliveries! At 6.45am the van arrived, and you could buy a baguette for lunch, or croissants for breakfast.....
When it came time to leave, everyone was expecting more rain, and dressed accordingly.
Signs in this part of France were in Basque as well as French.
This cow didn't seem overly impressed by the wet conditions either....
but this mist against the wooded hillside gave me pleasant reminders of childhood visits to the West Coast.
This bag was hanging on the gate for bread delivery. I wondered if the Basque striped design had any connection with Isabelle from Cambarrat.
I decided to make the slight diversion off the track to see the chapel of Olhalby and was glad I had: it was exquisite. A man from the village was there to tell visitors about the chapel. He pointed out where there was a place for the woman who cared for the chapel to sleep, and he talked about the headstones from earlier centuries that had been found under the ground in the graveyard.
There was a choice to make on the route today. Would I go via the old route of the GR via Uhart-Mixe as some had recommended, or take the longer route via the stele of Gibraltar, and see where two other French routes joined the Le Puy route?

I opted to go via Uhart-Mixe. And the rain bucketed down during this part of the morning, so that I was incredibly glad to arrive at the restaurant there, so warm and cosy inside. I met some old friends again over lunch, where I had a delicious soup and salad. The restaurant owner advised against rejoining the Chemin as he said it was under water in places, so most of us took the road, which was quite busy and not so pleasant. Not far from Uhart-Mixe though, the weather changed dramatically: the sky cleared to blue and the sun shone brilliantly. I found myself stripping down to a t-shirt, and putting away my raincoat, an unusual experience in recent days. Maybe there was hope for seeing the view over the Pyrenees after all....
Just past Ostabat, came the place to quit the road and rejoin the Chemin. Unfortunately, this meant I missed passing through Ostabat itself, a village that was an ancient pilgrimage place in its own right. (I was too tired later to retrace my steps and walk the extra kms to get back there.)

I didn't especially enjoy the gite this evening, even though the facilities were excellent: for the first time in France I felt as if I was just part of a 'pilgrim farming' gite. But there were still real pluses. The sun shone down brightly all afternoon, and I spent time with my room-mates just enjoying the view in the sunshine. The woman pictured here became an inspiration that I remembered. She had walked already from Bretagne, and had problems with her feet. She spent quite some time in the evening and in the morning, massaging in cream and ointment to help with the pain, but she remained determined. I saw her again the next night in SJPP, but she never had a rest day, so started over the mountains before me. I never saw her again in Spain, so I hope she made it to Santiago.

Day 44: 27 May- Ostabat to Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port

2008-07-17T18:57:00.022+12:00

With all the recent rain, the path from Ostabat was fairly muddy and the grass was slippery. But I was aware this was my last long walk in France, and so I didn't really want to 'opt out' and end up walking via the busy road.

This historic cross was near to the road.
This sign provided a talking point with my Quebec friends ;-)
When it finally came time to choose between the main road and a quieter road through some small villages, I am so glad I opted for the longer Chemin. The villages I passed through were peaceful and beautiful, and I had time to reflect on all the places I had walked in France, and to be thankful for the experience.

The Pyrenees and rain seemed to 'go together'. There was a bus stop where several people found shelter from the rain for lunch: this young dog has already learned it would seem, that pilgrims might share their lunch!
There was a steepish climb at the end up to St-Jean-Pied-de-Port, but it was oh so worth it. I walked through the St Jacques gate with an incredible feeling of achievement that I had 'made it' through the whole French section of the walk. I was so very happy!!!!!!!!
I asked a couple who passed by if they would take my photo. They obliged, then wished me "Happy Holidays". I was glad for their wishes, but it hadn't quite been a 'holiday"!!
Just a little down the hill, was the Pilgrim Office, where I received a warm welcome from some dedicated people, and some information sheets for the Spanish part of the walk, including clear instructions for the routes over the Pyrenees.
And nearly straight over the road was "l'Esprit du Chemin", the welcoming gite where I was to spend two nights, and have a relaxing 'rest day' before 'that' climb over the Pyrenees.

Day 45: 28 May- SJPP -rest day

2008-07-17T18:57:00.021+12:00

I loved my rest day in SJPP. I did a bit of laundry, spent a bit of time lazing on my bed reading a mystery novel, and wandered the streets.... One of the great things about wandering was the number of people I 'banged into' on the streets of SJPP who were also having a rest. I enjoyed seeing Liliane and Robert again...
and Les DD's appeared around a corner with their exuberant greeting.
This street left no illusions about the direction for the morrow,
and the climb ahead loomed!
I enjoyed spending time in SJPP, wandering the narrow streets, looking at the buildings, the bridges and the Basque linen fabrics. (I wished I had bought some: they were superb!)
A young Swiss man I had seen walking the previous day called me over for a hot chocolate. He left the cafe before I did, and when I went to pay I discovered he already had. (Who said chivalry is dead?!)
I joined Lyne and Denis for lunch by the St Jacques gate. We were all in a state of euphoria celebrating how far we had come, but we also knew anxiety, concerned about the climb that loomed ahead......
We played around a little, distracting ourselves from the reality of the climb ahead.... And that evening I enjoyed another shared meal in L'Esprit du Chemin... conviviality that gave strength for the day ahead...

Day 46: 29 May- SJPP to Orisson

2008-07-17T18:57:00.020+12:00

After experiencing so many wet, rainy days as we approached the Pyrenees, I guess I was expecting more of the same for the crossing over the pass. But when I opened the curtains this morning in the gite, my heart leaped when I saw there was sunshine and clear skies over the mountains! I was just going as far as the gite at Orisson for the night, and as I began on the steep road out of SJPP, I was glad I had opted for the shorter distance...I was very happy to find that the weather was suitable for taking the high route, the Route de Napoleon.
I was also pleased to find that I was quite fit, so I found the climb much easier than I had imagined. The steepest parts were the initial climb out of SJPP, then at the 4km to Orisson sign.
But there were even some flat and downhill sections! And I had been walking long enough to know to just take it at my own pace.It seemed that in no time at all I had reached this Orisson sign, and the climb so far had been no where near as hard as I had expected..... It turned out that the whole of the walk up to Orisson was on a very quiet sealed road..... And of course, the weather was fine but not hot, which made it all more straightforward...
The views became more and more splendid as I climbed.
And up near the end of the morning's walk, there were eagles to watch, majestic birds soaring high, and moving quickly through the skies when they chose.

The walking crowd today was a different breed, younger and more international. I was pleased to be able to stop and share the experience of watching the eagles soar with a young Spaniard.

There were also farm animals to share the route with
up here in the mountains for the summer months.
And all too quickly the morning's walk was ended. I came around a corner, and there was Orisson. The guide sheet said 'two and a half' hours climb to Orisson. I am "slow" and expected to take much longer. But even after taking time to watch the eagles and the cows, I walked into the bar at Orisson just two and three quarter hours after beginning, not at all tired. So my weeks of walking had led to improved fitness.
There was plenty of time to enjoy the views during what amounted to another 'rest day' at Orisson.
And that evening there was one of the most treasured moments of my Camino. A huge rainbow, with a hint of a 'double', spread itself right across the sky in front of the mountains. This was the most beautiful rainbow I have ever seen in my life. This photograph could only capture one side. I couldn't capture on camera the magnificent view I was having the joy of seeing with my eyes, but the joy is stored in my memory.
There was a Canadian father and daughter here who had arrived at SJPP the previous evening to begin their Camino: what a special shared experience this was for them.

Day 47: 30 May- Orisson (France) to Roncesvalles (Spain)

2008-07-17T18:56:00.017+12:00

I could scarcely believe my good fortune when a second day dawned clear over the Pyrenees. These were perfect conditions for climbing, with enough cloud to prevent the day becoming too hot, but still allowing gorgeous views.
Near the statue of the Virgin of Orisson there were huge vultures sitting lower on the same outcrop of rock. I regarded them for a while, but was too slow to get my camera out! When they rose and took flight, I was just astounded by their size and wing span.
There were more farm animals to encounter on the slopes,
including these sheep, and also some horses. The climb kept on going upwards, though the gradient became less steep as we got higher. Finally it came time to leave Napoleon's road behind, and head onto the mountain slopes.
Lyne and Denis had carried some special crosses from home to place on this cross, and they waited for me here.
Also here was Shinechi, a Japanese man we were to meet regularly along the way to Santiago.
I was glad to be finally climbing 'off road', though I knew we were so fortunate with the weather. At these heights I have seen many photos where people were surrounded by mist. And others have encountered alpine conditions here, that for a few, sadly, have claimed their lives.
Eventually, I realised that I was crossing into Spain. No great fanfare, just a stone route marker...
There were some muddy sections up higher, formed by leaves that lay here thickly on the ground. And the mud was quite the blackest I met anywhere, which I guessed explained why the slugs were so black! Washing my socks this evening was also to be a very 'black' experience!!!

I loved this section of the climb- quite alpine, and this area would be covered in snow all winter I would imagine. I was glad to know that Lyne and Denis were never far away, keeping an eye on my progress over the mountain so I wasn't tackling it alone.
Denis' sports watch - a gift for the trip from his children- allowed us to know when we had reached about 1400m, near the maximum height for this climb, and here there was a lunch stop to celebrate. It was starting to get cloudier and cooler by now on the top of the mountain pass though, and I wasn't sure whether we would still be dry when we reached Roncesvalles.If you look very hard, you can see a slight whitey area down in the valley below: those are the roofs and buildings of Roncesvalles. (And slightly further along, the buildings of Burguete.)
When I reached the place for the descent to begin, I took the road option, recommended on the info given by the pilgrim's office in SJPP. I was to hear later how steep and tricky the forest option was, and was glad I had taken the road route.

We arrived before 13.30, and had time to register for a bed for the night at the pilgrim's office before it closed for lunch and siesta until 4pm. We were on "Spanish" time now, with later lunches than what we had become used to in France...
At the albergue (run by the Collegiate church), Dutch hospitaleros made everyone welcome on arrival, with a calm, friendly manner.
We reserved for dinner, then relaxed until a guided tour of the village and museum. Later there was a special pilgrim Mass and blessing.
I found it slightly overawing to be in a huge dormitory, along with so many of so many nationalities. But the building was beautiful. And at 9.45pm the hospitaleros reduced the lighting and started playing some calming music...until lights off.

Day 48: 31 May- Roncesvalles to Zubiri

2008-07-17T18:56:00.016+12:00

At 6am some quiet classical music came on, and the lights came on.... And as I passed by the doorway en route for the toilets downstairs, I realised that it was Pouring with rain outside, with a capital P. It became evident that not everyone was prepared for such conditions. Some had no rainwear at all, while others had thin plastic ponchos of the $2 shop variety, that would be lucky to last ten minutes. Roncesvalles lies at 950m folks, and is in a mountain valley: if you think Spain is always dry and warm, think again and come prepared!

I wasn't among the first to leave the albergue. I was hoping the rain might ease off a little. It didn't! It was a wet walk to Burguete where breakfast provided a welcome break indeed.
Luckily, there was a gymnasium open next to the bar, where everyone could strip off their rainwear before enjoying breakfast in a welcoming dry, warm place. Then put it on again for the next section in the rain...
Later the rain stopped, and there were some pleasant villages to walk through, as well as some muddy paths to negotiate.
I met up with the three Canadians I had first met in SJPP, and again in Orisson... and I was to enjoy meeting them again..... We had lunch in a pleasant wooded spot, without any rain.
After I wrote on my Nomad blog that I had reached Zubiri, I got a lovely e-mail from John, whose pilgrim blog I had read before my journey. He talked about how he remembered Zubiri with fondness because he had spent time on the riverbank in the sunshine... Well such an exploit was certainly not possible today. The river was running high and swiftly, and all the grass near it was long and saturated.
And this bridge photo also brings back other memories for me: it was just before this bridge that I took a huge fall, the only such fall of my whole trip. I was actually very lucky it wasn't a trip-ending fall. I had just finished descending the long rocky, muddy hill down into Zubiri, using my stick all the way, and needing to concentrate. When I reached the "safe" concrete path at the bottom, my concentration lapsed a little as I began to think about taking a few photographs near the bridge. Then, skedaddle.... I completely lost my footing and fell forward, flat onto my front, with my pack falling hard onto my back a fraction later. Amazingly, I felt fine the next day, and even my camera, on my waistband at the front, wasn't damaged!

Ahhhhhh and another memory from Zubiri: it was the place where I came across The Snorer From Hell!

Day 49: 1 June- Zubiri to Pamplona

2008-07-17T18:55:00.015+12:00

I rose early, very early, like about 3am early, at the Municipal Albergue. I could stand The Snorer From Hell, a Brazilian woman sleeping in the adjacent bunk, no more! And I was in good company, with several others who had also escaped for the sake of sanity to the toilet block. Most of us were to return to bed, albeit not to sleep, but a young Englishwoman right next to her on the top could stand it no longer, and spent the rest of the night in the toilet block. Somehow, this view of the industrial factory site that dominated the valley floor leaving Zubiri, seemed to suit the kind of night it had been!But before long I had the good fortune to meet up with a friendly group of young South American walkers, sheltering in a church porch like I was... and all was good again!
It turned into a wet, wet morning again, and the track was very muddy and required care to negotiate. I was glad to have the use of my walking pole: I left it 'collapsed' on the outside of my pack most days in Spain, but the days I used it, I am certain it helped me avoid injury in slippery and/or steep conditions.
The river was full...for obvious reasons!
Eventually I reached the outskirts of Pamplona, or more correctly the suburbs of Villava first, but it all just seemed like one long urban stretch. I was muddy after the morning's exploits, and I arrived this Sunday afternoon, just as people were all heading to the 1pm Mass dressed in their Sunday best. I felt as if I was looked at here as if I was some kind of alien in my muddy shoes.... though surely they must be used to pilgrims passing through!

The approach to the old part of the city of Pamplona though was very special, and took away all resentment I had about feeling like an alien! There was a medieval bridge to cross, a moat to walk through
and a historic gate with which to enter the city, as pilgrims of bygone centuries had done.
Then I passed into the narrow streets of Pamplona, increasingly busy with people spilling out of bars as I reached its centre on a Sunday afternoon.
I was pleased to find the signs up to the Jesus and Mary albergue near to the Cathedral.
Being Sunday though, the Cathedral was only open for services. The story of my life in Spain: I kept missing important monuments by arriving in places on Sundays when they were closed! However, I realised there was a rosary on at 7.30pm, so I grabbed the chance to get inside the Cathedral then. And got to hear some exquisite singing, and see quite an amazing procession around the aisles afterwards.
The Jesus and Mary albergue, like quite a few buildings I was to stay in in Spain, was in an historic building. But it had been completely modernised inside. The welcome was very much a fill-in-the-form-you-are-a-number kind of welcome. But the beds were comfy, and there were partitions to break down the dormitory feel. I thought this was fortunate really, when I recognised that The Snorer From Hell was here before me, which surprised me somewhat, as I knew she was just arising as I left the albergue in Zubiri. But I heard later from a reliable source that she had left Zubiri by bus. Each to their own! She was at one end of the albergue and I was at the other on the other side... so there were sufficient degrees of separation for me not to have to worry!

There was an amazing piece of 'synchronicity' at this albergue this afternoon. Lyne and Denis had left Roncesvalles well before me, and I had not seen them in Zubiri. Once I had found my bed in the albergue, and showered to get rid of the mud I was encased in, I went wandering to explore the albergue. I found the internet area..... and found L&D seated at a computer..... and they had just sent me an e-mail asking me where I was...telling me they needed me!!!! There was much laughter as I walked in to the room in reply to the e-mail they had just sent.....

Day 50: 2 June- Pamplona to Puente la Reina

2008-07-17T18:55:00.014+12:00

I was concerned about finding my way out through the city of Pamplona, as the signage into the city hadn't been all that obvious in places. However, the signage was large and clear on the way out. It didn't seem to take long before we had reached the outskirts of the city, and were passing the Jacobean University. We decided to make the short detour to get a credential stamp there- and it was a particularly beautiful and delicate stamp. Soon I was walking on the way out to Cizur Minor, alongside a busy road, and alongside the morning rush hour of pilgrims, something I hadn't been used to in France.... I loved seeing the castle on the hill with crops in front of it.
At this early stage of the Camino we had to make way for some cyclists. However, I think mostly they soon learned about the copious spring mud on the walking route, and quickly switched to a route with a surface kinder to modern gears!
There was another climb today, so soon after the Pyrenees, and for some reason I felt tired and found it hard to psych myself up for it- perhaps because I wasn't yet adjusted to sleeping with more people in large dorms....
However, the well practised rhythm of my feet took over, and carried me along. Before too long, those distant windmills on the horizon became windmills nearby.
Before leaving home, I had already seen the pilgrim statues of Alto del Perdon many times on the internet. In some strange way, reaching these statues had become my necessary goal: so long as I reached them, I would be happy. If I had injured myself or become sick without climbing to them, I know I would have felt something was 'incomplete'.
Not many people were hanging around long to examine these statues or to pose with them. But I knew it was something I really wanted to do! Luckily it was fine enough while I was on top of the hills to have lunch and spend some moments here.
The clouds had begun to look threatening overhead while I was still on top, and it quickly began to rain a little on my descent... then to rain quite heavily.....and care was needed.... I met someone a few days later who was injured on this muddy descent.
But by the time I reached Uterga it was sunny and warm, and the cafe was doing a great trade at its outdoor tables. I joined a couple of French women I had seen a few times, and had a cool lemon drink with ice. At the cafe I was surprised to see TSFH, in fresh, clean boots, unlike the muddy variety sported by everyone else. A reliable source told me she had caught a taxi thus far! She later arrived in the same albergue as me, but luckily there were separate rooms there with about eight beds in each... and we were not in the same room!
Obamos was an interesting village along the way, but I still had quite a distance to go for the day, so never explored far. The whole time in Spain I felt under a kind of time constraint I had not put myself under in France: I wanted to arrive in Santiago before the summer crowds became too huge, and I really wanted to avoid walking in too much heat.
In Puente la Reina there were storks on the church tower, the first of many I was to see in northern Spain. I began to wonder what the storks did before humans invented church towers! The storks later retreated from view though, when yet again, the rain came down.
This afternoon, I found that I felt particularly tired: Puente la Reina looked like a very interesting town to explore, but I didn't seem to have the heart for it... There were days like that... when you were tired....

Day 51: 3 June- Puente la Reina to Estella

2008-07-17T18:54:00.032+12:00

When I walked in France I was aware that the Le Puy route was a 'creation' of the 70s: the original pilgrim routes had been 'lost' over time. Still, the Le Puy route was routed past towns that pilgrims were known to have visited, and I saw many twelfth century churches along the route. Yet somehow I had the feeling that in Spain I would be walking more of a 'real' pilgrim route. For many reasons, today's walk had me really thinking I was on an ancient pilgrim trail, and I treasured it for that. I would have treasured it even more, if I had realised how much of the Spanish route was to be on modern senda or next to busy highways, with no signs of anything left from previous centuries.
One of today's treasures was the town of Cirauqui, which loomed ahead like some kind of jewel on a hillside,
but there was some sticky, thick mud to scramble/slide through next to these vineyards before the prize was reached! At one point I had to wade through knee-deep, cold water in order to continue....
It was a steepish climb up to the top of the village, then I sat and rested here for a while, enjoying the light and shade near the medieval arcade.
If I hadn't been feeling the need to push-on-summer's-coming, this would have been an interesting town to stop in longer to explore. (Maybe next time!) Leaving Cirauqui, there was an old Roman road to walk over, with many of its ancient paving stones still in place.

There were several medieval bridges to cross along the way today,
and fields of wheat with poppies that enlivened the view.
In the village of Lorca there was an area of comfortable seating where lots of pilgrims stopped for lunch, enjoying some welcome sunshine.
We were tired when we arrived in Estella, so we were pleased to find that the municipal albergue was reached soon after we arrived in the town.
Estella had many historic buildings, and after I had done the 'usual'- ie shower and laundry, I was glad to go out exploring. There was an amazing steeply humped bridge over the river, and I took that when I headed to the Correos. My mission was to post home my good windjacket (and a light long-sleeved top)- both of which I thought were now surplus to requirements since I had crossed the Pyrenees. I would have to say it was lovely to be rid of a kg of weight. However, I can't say I didn't have reason to miss the warmth of the jacket over the next few weeks. Spain in June might not be as warm as you imagine it is going to be is the only warning I will give here! Luckily it never rained much, so I was often able to wear my day and night layers together - but some people went out and bought an extra fleece jacket at this point.

Estella had the church of St Peter's as one of its treasures, and it had a steep 'penetential' climb up to it
and a very atmospheric cloister behind it, where I caught sight of this 'Peter with the keys'.
In Estella, the Red Cross had volunteers in a place right near to the Municipal Albergue. Several pilgrims I knew who had foot or leg problems were glad of the kind welcome they found here.

Day 52: 4 June- Estella to Los Arcos

2008-07-17T18:54:00.031+12:00

We were tipped out of the Municipal Albergue here in Estella earlier than anywhere else along the trail: at 7.15am we had to be gone! I think it was a ploy agreed to with the management of the nearby Bodegas Irache free pilgrim wine fountain to keep the numbers down! It didn't open until 8am, and you needed to be dedicated to the cause to wait there that long....
The scenery this day was superb, with vineyards, wheatfields, poppies, distant mountains....

At the church in Villamayor de Monjardin, which was open all day, unlike Spanish churches in general, they even offered confessions in English.
The path continued on with beautiful views,
stunningly beautiful views of the sort that usually I am jubilant to be walking in.
But for some strange reason I became disheartened with walking on this beautiful day. My ankles were causing me pain, and it seemed like everyone was passing me, and I had been walking alone for too long. The countryside felt very remote here, ordinarily something I love, but on this particular day I had a 'crisis of confidence', and I seemed to be walking on forever, towards a village that was not visible. It seemed like I would need to shorten my walk soon by taking the train to Leon....
Arrival in Los Arcos did not initially lead to an improvement in my spirits, despite the presence of a welcoming resting place at the entry to the village. But as I arrived at the far end of the village, and came to the albergue, just past the church, life began to improve. The albergue here was staffed by warm and friendly Belgian hospitaleros. They will never know how much their welcome meant to me this day. Also on offer at this albergue was the opportunity to have a professional foot/leg massage in the evening. I was glad to put my name down for this one! And the Aussie Mick, who I had met before, was also here. He had dislocated his shoulder since our last meeting but was as friendly and down to earth as usual. When he asked how I was, I was able to pour out in English how disheartened I was feeling this day... and of course I instantly felt better.
I returned to a restaurant in the area near the church, and ate a healthy and filling lunch. Again, I felt so much better. Next I met up with a group of Irish guys and the Aussie Mick, who were having a peaceful drink at the tables near the church. I had a great talk with them- they were interested to learn more of the Le Puy route - and I was invited to join them for dinner.

The massage was wonderful, and a very timely thing for my ankles. The very kind masseur told me straight off that I was dehydrated and needed to drink more. Perhaps this was the reason I had found the going so tough this day. I resolved to follow his advice.
The church and cloister in Los Arcos were both impressive, and the church was opened at 6pm so those staying in the town did have a chance to see it.
There was a Mass with a pilgrim blessing, where the priest spoke several languages to the pilgrims present.
But I guess my favourite part of the evening was the meal I shared with the Irish guys and Mick. Thanks guys!