Day 12, June 6: Cajarc to Bach - 31.6 kms

No opportunity to post anything tonight as we were in the boondocks of Bach (not pronounced bark like a dog but barsh that rhymes with harsh). 

We had a lovely breakfast at our gite communal, sharing conversation with a woman who grew up in Kentucky and who now resides in New Mexico and another woman who lives in Strasbourg. 

Reminded of one's vulnerability when doing the Camino. Met a guy who fell and broke his kneecap and is preparing to return to Paris. A woman from the west of France whom we have got to know in recent days rolled her ankle and is only walking 10 kms a day and doing the rest by car. The woman from Strasbourg had a fall a few days ago and has a badly bruised shoulder.  

We walked through Cajarc and down to the river which looked beautiful in the early morning mist. 

It was another steep climb out of the town before traveling through beautiful farmland and bushland. There were few big towns, no shops open and an absence of places to refill our water bottles. 

The mist cleared at mid morning and for the rest of the day the sun blazed down upon us. We carried 2 litres of water each and could have done with another litre each, such was the evaporation from our bodies. The heat and the humidity made the day one of the hardest. Reaching the town of Bach seemed interminable and by the time we had done our 31+ kms we wandered around the town trying to find our gite. The signposting wasn't flash but a thoughtful woman came and helped us. She said it was a long way down a certain road and she offered to drive us there. We declined her offer but her kindness to us in our perplexity and exhaustion was another 'Camino moment'. 

We eventually got to our roadhouse which was a two storey rambling house on a large property in the countryside. It had been built in 1836 and had lots of exposed and rough wood beams. It is owned by a woman named Michelle who has been hosting pilgrims and other travellers for nine years. She is a real character. 

In addition to the two of us, there were seven others (all French) who were walking as a group on a different route from us. Then there was Michelle and her partner. 

After showering and washing our clothes we had '40 winks' before gathering for dinner outside around a big table. The information we'd received led us to believe we would get a 'light meal'. Au contraire! What we had was a big banquet beginning with a bowl of soup, followed by a chicken casserole with lots of herbs and vegetables served on rice, the cheese course (usually this comes as a selection of three- tonight a strong local cheese, a Camembert and a chèvre- goat cheese). This was capped off with a big serving of tiramisu. 

The hosts kept everybody's glasses filled up with red wine, a local Malbec. A Frenchman in the walking group went to his room and returned with a small bottle marked 'Schweppes'. As he passed it around we caught on that it was Cognac. A tray of sugar cubes was also passed around with the invitation to pour a drop of Cognac over the cube and then put it in your mouth. Apparently this is a nightcap ritual, so designed to put you to sleep that the walker found a place in his pack for such a necessity. 

Michelle was the perfect host and when conversation was fast and obscure, she was mindful of our limited French and she'd do some translating or clarification for us.  

She was like the Wife of Bath who regaled us with stories and jokes so the laughter and hilarity got more and more intense. Michelle sang a song and then asked for each of us to sing a number. Most of the French men bowed out saying they weren't gifted musically. We sang Waltzing Matilda with great gusto which they enjoyed. Michelle then got us to sing Frere Jacque as a round in twos which was a scream. 

By 9.30 we were worn out and ready to roll into bed with that warm-roasted feeling. What a lovely experience of table community.            

We slept soundly. Perhaps the French nightcap had done its work. 

C'est la Vie

Geoff & Lyn

Day 11, 5/6/2016, Figeac to Carjarc 31.5 kms

Breakfast was quite an event. We needed a gendarme standing in the middle of the table just to direct the traffic. There were jars of jam with large dessert spoons sticking out of them and saucers of butter being slid from one corner of the table to the opposite, people reaching across a few others to get what they needed,  and everyone was going for it - eating fast, dunking toasted baguette in coffee, applying lashings of butter & jam to toast in the hand and talking animatedly. I was waiting for the walking poles to be whipped out in order to swipe over a desired item. There were six varieties of homemade jam and everyone was enjoying them to the full. Meanwhile in the kitchen, in full view of everyone, out host and girlfriend were smooching away passionately in between dashing frantically around the table trying to keep up with diminishing supplies. There was nothing demure about breakfast this morning. One either had to join in the bun fight or go hungry. 

This is one of our favourite gites so far - it had so much character and the hospitality felt authentic. The night before, our host was brusque, the last thing one needs after walking, exhausted, in the hot afternoon sun.Here, they were full of gentle kindness and went the second mile to ensure our comfort. A gift. 

We left Figeac packed to the gunnels with food for the next couple of days, as there were no handy shops open on Sunday and no food to be had on the way.  Not a trivial matter to the French, Figeac is the birthplace of Champollion, father of Egyptology, and there is much named after him in the town.  We left, not only with full packs and stomachs but also feeling full to bursting with gratitude for this our 11th day of walking this French Camino. 

After a very steep climb up the side of the valley, we were able to enjoy paths that were mostly mud free, aside from a couple of long stretches, and soft on the footfall. There was time to live into the silence, despite the birds that were partying in the trees full tilt. 

We spent time today reflecting on fleeting encounters we have had with people criss-crossing our lives. Often we don't know their names but they have left a lasting impression on us. 

We felt like saying 'excusez moi' a lot today as we walked right past people's living rooms or terraces. 

We love the way a Camino slows you right down to appreciate minutiae - tiny cornflower blue butterflies flitting around us, red & black beetles scuttling across the road and ants carrying loads three times the length of their bodies. It is like an annual Life 101 for us - a total physical, social, emotional, mental and spiritual workout. While we still have the energy, this is our type of annual time out. 

It was great to arrive at our gite communal tonight and meet up with 3 Camino friends who we've walked with on and off. One is a woman (over 70 yrs) from Kentucky who is taking a few months to walk all the way to Santiago by herself, and who flew past us in the mud 3 days ago, yelling: I LOVE MUD! One of the guys staying in our gite, is holed up here for a few days with a broken kneecap. We are constantly grateful that we have made it through to Day 11 with no injuries. 

It's been another memorable day. 

Vive la France!

Geoff & Lyn

Day 10, Livinhac-Le-Haut to Figeac 25.4 kms

Another steep climb to get us out of town and up on a ridge but this morning we faced thick fog. The visibility wasn't great but we saw lots of large and intricate spiderwebs along the path. We had never seen spiderwebs like these before - they were like delicately-woven hanging baskets. 

We walked through farms for much of the way and from time to time we went through small towns that did not appear to have much life for this Saturday morning. 

We stopped to buy a large, strong coffee which left us zinging and later we had a wonderful picnic lunch on a table underneath some sycamore trees and with  a great view of the village church and a lake. 

We passed and patted many farm animals, saw a good few stately homes as well as others in need of major renovation. We also saw on display a rock cross dating back to the 17th century. 

This springtime there is plenty of colour, especially roses which are a pleasure to see and smell. 

On arriving at Figeac we walked beside a large flowing river, Le Cele, which further down joins the River Lot. 

We arrived at our residence just before opening time at 3.30pm. The young proprietor, Frederique, welcomed us with some mint water, after which we registered, paid up (it is 32 euros each which includes a bed, dinner and breakfast), had a shower, washed our clothes and hung them on the line, scrubbed our boots and did some buying of food at the supermarket - the usual arrival routine. 

As people have been arriving we have recognised several. A mother and daughter got in late and very sunburnt. They had lost their way and this had added another 7 kms to their walk. 

Dinner tonight was around a very large table with 12 of us - all French except for us. The food was scrumptious - sausage again, but this time as a rich, herb-filled casserole served on rice. We have noticed that the desserts are served straight - not accompanied by any cream or ice cream. One of the women sitting next to us wanted to practice her English, so we ended up speaking more than broken French tonight. 

When we weren't slopping through mud today, we started reflecting on all the things in our 39 years together that we had earnestly wanted/longed for/prayed for/applied for, even grasped at that hadn't come off - we counted up 13 major possibilities. Looking back, it's just as well they didn't come to pass. Be careful what you long for seemed to be a theme of today. 

C'est la Vie

Geoff and Lyn Pound 

Day 9, 3/6/2016 Conques to Livinhac-Le-Haut 24.9 km

Today was the first day in six days that we did not need our ponchos. It was overcast for the morning with grey skies - perfect weather for walking. 

Once across the old Roman bridge it was very steep for a long time out of Conques through the mountains.  We took a short break at the little Chapelle of St Foy. It was muddy and slippery under foot. A person we got to know in the gite last night, who was walking on her own, had a fall in the deep mud this morning - flat onto her face. She was quite cheerful about the whole experience, though, and seemed to look on it as one of life's little adventures. The weight of a pack can make you quite uncertain on a slope and tip you off balance. 

Hospitality is one of the features while walking a Camino that we truly appreciate and surprising hospitality we certainly experienced today. After our steep ascent we walked across undulating farmland and for a while along small roads. Right out of the blue we came across a middle aged farmer on the side of the road alongside his tractor. He had a picnic table on which were flasks of tea and coffee and beautiful cake that his wife had baked this morning. He would only take a pittance for coffee and cake and while we were enjoying our fill other pilgrims stopped by to enjoy the same. The farmer and his wife weren't doing this for pocket money but they were extending good old fashioned hospitality and continuing an ancient Camino tradition. 

After walking through small villages or hamlets for another hour we came to a junction and discovered a picnic area that another farmer had created on the edge of his farm. It had three wooden tables and chairs that he had made, a sheltered area with flasks of free coffee, a notice board and a WC that Lyn believed was 'a total experience'. It had photos on the dunny wall - even a funny Aussie postcard - and there was a container of sawdust to cover your offerings down the long drop. There were several bins for recycling. This farmer was a great recycler. 

While we made and ate our delicious salad baguette, three to four other pilgrims came and sat down at the other tables. The farmer hovered around and at different times he drove his tractor back to his home to top up our supplies. You could see that he found great delight in our enjoyment of his picnic area, 'cafe' and innovative toilette. 

After 18 kms of walking the plateau and ridges we descended steeply to a town and then ascended just as sharply. 

In the afternoon the sun appeared for the first time in almost a week, first gradually, then enough to form a shadow and later it shone in blistering fashion, almost enough to start us cursing what we had yearned for all week.

Seeing the sun emerge today made us want to sing the Beatles number:

Vien le soleil, vien le soleil
et je dis, ça va tout bien. 

The total distance we knew we had to cover today was a comfortable 25 kms but it is not the distance only that shapes the rigours of the walk. The muddiness and slipperyness slow you down and sap your calm. The steepness of the initial ascent certainly got our lungs pumping and we were saying again how grateful we were for all the ascent and descent walking we did at Ferntree Gully before we left Melbourne. 

The last 5 kms were also tough with major ups and downs and this in the blazing heat of the sun. There were many people huffing and puffing as they arrived at the hostel this afternoon and several were quite sunburnt. 

We are in the Gite Communal tonight here at Livinhac-Le-Haut. At a Gite Communal (which is right in the centre of the town surrounded by the church, Mayor's office and shops) we get a small room with 2 beds but we share with several others on this floor a bathroom and a separate toilet. We get laundry and kitchen facilities plus there is a dining room, an outside garden and picnic area. For this we paid 15 euros each. Because the late afternoon sun was so hot, we paid an extra 3 euros to use the washing machine and now we have most of our clothes well washed and dry. Simple pleasures. 

When we were walking the Camino Frances in Spain we stayed at a modern pilgrim hostel in Leon. We remember how the guy in the opposite bunk looked at his feet so lovingly and said out loud, "Thank you, thank you feet."

After our first week of walking here is our expression of appreciation to our feet:

Salutation to Our Feet

With every kilo on our backs and girths,
we pound you mercilessly into the ground. 

With our shoes and boots we crush and constrict you. 
With blisters and bunions we injure and boil you to swelling point. 

Often neglected, little honoured, unsung heroes. 

You enable us to walk the Way. 
With toes you give a foothold on the rise. 
You dig in your heels on the slope. 
You plant us on the slippery stone. 

By our unsandalled feet we know we are on holy ground. 
Through our feet we become grounded on the earth. 
Proudly you give us a place to stand. 

So we shower you with our love. 
We towel you with our thanks. 
We soothe you with oils and perfume you with delight. 

Burden bearers, tandem travellers, sole mates: 
We salute you. 

Geoff and Lyn Pound 

Day 8, 2/6/16 Senergues to Conques 10 kms

We left an hour later today, at  8:20, after a breakfast with the familiar friendly faces of last night. It was providential to have a placemat in front of me that was an information map of the surrounding area as I could pretend to study it whilst trying to formulate the next comment/question for my breakfast companions (Geoff just gives it a go but I seem to have a bit more pride at stake . . . )

We lasted barely 10 minutes without our ponchos and soon entered very misty territory indeed. The weather matched our sad mood at the news of the death of our very good friend, Graham Brogden, in Palmerston North, NZ. He was such an influential person in our lives and we loved him, and his wife Robin, dearly. We also felt so sad for the family and friends of 7-mth-old baby Huon, in Melbourne, who also died recently after a valiant struggle with a difficult-to-diagnose illness. Our love and prayers are with all those who mourn and for our colleague, Keren, as she takes Huon's funeral on Friday - such a hard task for Keren as Huey is not only a baby, but also a relative. 

We wanted a brief walk today of 10 kms in order to explore the historic pilgrim town of Conques for the remainder of the day. This town, perched on the mountainside, was a major sacred site along the Le Puy route for medieval pilgrims and has an imposing 8th/11th century abbey at its heart which is now a UNESCO heritage site. Visitors leave their cars outside town and wander around on foot. Yes, it's touristy, but so unforgettably beautiful that it makes you want to take your shoes off and only whisper if necessary. It's a treasure of a place that produces Aha! exclamations at every turn. It's been fun bumping into a few more familiar faces here from previous gites. 

We're staying in the gite communal which is very cosy with perfectly adequate facilities. There was no one there to greet us, just an honesty box for the tariff and some general instructions. 

 Lunch was a regional platter, the French version of a Ploughman's Lunch, with a bowl of the local speciality - aligot - in the centre. This warm stringy cheese dish (potato/cheese/garlic puree) is absolutely delicious and much applauded. 

Geoff says we're only going to take 'purple cow' photos from now on. After all, we don't want to get home and wonder what that 508th stone village church was all about. Problem is, a hay bale isn't really a 'purple cow' moment for me. 

We loved the 6pm vespers just now in the Abbey (dedicated to Sainte Foy - St Faith - of the 4th century). The Abbey is stark & enormous but with a worshipful ambience. Our dinner guests from last evening were going to be sleeping in it tonight. 

The rain is expected to stop over the weekend so perhaps we need to have ponchos at the ready for the 6th day. 

C'est la Vie

Geoff & Lyn

Day 7 June 1st: Espalion to Senergues - 37+ kms

Starting at the beautiful town of Espalion, it was wonderful to see the old bridge and astonishing to see the volume of water that was passing underneath.

It was raining as we started and it kept raining all day. It has rained steadily for the last four days. Someone mentioned to us on the third day that the area had already had the monthly quota of water for the month in only two or three days.

After walking alongside the river Lot we went uphill and it was not only very steep but also slippery and deeply muddy and there were streams of water coming down to meet us. This was by far the most challenging stage yet and we were only able to do 8km in the first three hours. Every step was an effort. When we got up past bushland and were going through farmland, the tracks were absolutely flooded and it was impossible to find any dry areas to place your feet. Geoff's Me Tarzan routine from yesterday was put on hold for the time being, I noticed. Et moi? I was virtually crouching at the entrance of the nearest French hospital trying to figure out how to convey my medical history in French. 

 We went to the exquisitely beautiful town of Estaing. It even looked amazing in the rain.

Walking is a most wonderful way to see French farmland because you walk straight through paddocks and past cowsheds. You greet the farmers and see them at work cropping or calling in the cows to the milking shed.

If one is interested in homes and gardens in France this is the walk to take because you walk through or alongside people's properties and can see what they have in their gardens and in their backyards!

This afternoon we did quite a lot of walking on tar sealed roads, following for much of the time the river Lot. 

In the mid to late afternoons we often need a distraction to take our minds off our  bodies and we have enjoyed listening to music. On our playlist today we listen to Yo-yo Ma and Jane Rutter, the wonderful Australian flautist.

After that we made up our own music and took it in turns to start singing a song. We sang at the top of our voices with the rain pouring down on our faces and most of the cows looked up great amazement. This was the first time that they had ever heard someone singing in English. 

We reached our gite a little after 7 pm. We had been walking for almost 12 hours with just a couple of breaks because we found very few shelters. We did enjoy a lovely lunch in the rain at a picnic table overlooking the river Lot.

Our gite at Senergues used to be an old convent and it is called 'Domaine de Senos'. After a very quick shower we got to the dinner table and met about 10 other people who have been on the Pilgrim walk today.

They would all be senior citizens but are active in travelling their country and other parts of the world. All of them were from France.

The first course for dinner tonight was salad plus a prune loaf. This was wonderful for Lyn but by the time I got back from the bathroom we were ready for the main course.

For the main course they were great big plates of mashed potatoes with parsley on the top. Then there emerged another plate . . . of sausages! They were a little bit more upmarket in the sense that they came with sprigs of rosemary. We have been served sausages every night in the gites so we are really getting the message that they are a local specialty! It was certainly delicious!
We will sleep well tonight!

C'est la Vie

Geoff and Lyn. 

Day 6, May 31: Saint-Chely-d'Aubrac to Espalion - 23.7 kms

We walked early out of town to the tune of cowbells and a distant cuckoo. Ponchos on for the third day running, it was drizzling when we left but it soon sheeted down and did so on and off throughout the day. 

We had a Camino moment when, after about 8 kms of wind and rain, we stumbled across a little stone shelter with an elderly woman selling coffee/tea for 1 euro. She was so welcoming - obviously not trying to make any money out of it but just offering exhausted pilgrims a place to sit and a hot drink. 

The first 16 kms was extremely hard going - like yesterday but with another 24 hours of rain on the track. When we had explored the wonderful UNESCO heritage town of Saint Come D'Olt at the end of this section, we took one look at the track ahead and thought NO.  It was just a wide mass of deep mud that went on forever uphill with no foliage to cling to anywhere. Just as well there was a small road that went the 6 kms into Espalion where we were staying the night, so we opted for that. Even the road had huge puddles everywhere. Geoff's becoming a pro at leaping over puddles or jumping from one slippery muddy rock to another with gay abandon, pack swaying and poncho billowing out behind him. But not me. I approach such acrobatic feats more gingerly with the cautionary thought that I'm only one step away from a French hospital. 

We saw chestnuts lying all over the ground today and long stretches of chestnut trees; a wonky church steeple; an enormous flowery mushroom; startlingly vibrant stained glass church windows; pink sandstone buildings; a very friendly guy who's a fan of the All Blacks who we weren't expecting to bump into again . . .

It was a much awaited moment when we finally came down off the mountains and hit the Lot Valley with it's river winding through, it's rich alluvial soil for market gardening and it's string of villages along the river classified as among France's 'most beautiful'. We'll be walking through them in the coming days. 

Our dominant sound today was gushing water and it seemed to be pouring out of every conceivable crevice. 

C'est la Vie

Geoff & Lyn