Author: fleetfootkath

Today was a lazy start; our rest day before leaving for Toulouse tomorrow. The weather is wet still but supposed to clear as we went looking for the Valenté bridge, an iconic symbol of Cahors. It has three towers and crosses the Lot. It is the pilgrims exit for those heading onwards to Santiago.

check out the devil on the bridge! It was a symbol of overcoming the problems the devil created when building the bridge.

While observing the bridge we saw pilgrims crossing and climbing the cliff opposite. It is a funny feeling knowing we aren’t going to be joining them. One or two had red rain covers over their backpacks and stood out amongst the greenery. A group had reached the top and paused to look back ( and catch their breath if it is their first day?)

The area is famous for its red wines( which we have been enjoying over the past few days) and so the river bank has a grove of vines planted ornamentally. To get to the bridge we had walked through a garden of white roses that were bruised from the rain last night but exuded the most powerful fragrance.

We needed to buy our train tickets for Toulouse and check the drivers are not on strike. While waiting I saw a most impressive device. A phone / iPad charger powered by pedals!

All the stations have free charging stations.

Next it was the old city walls where I saw a monkey tree. What an odd plant. It has spiky, leathery leaves on long branches. We visited St Etiennes Cathedral which is unusual in design with two Cupolas. Once inside it feels more fortress than Church which apparently was the intention! Bishop power! It is said to have a religious relic, the cap from the crucifiction of Christ. Relics were big business in medieval times.

While we explored the church an organist was practising for a concert at the end of the week. It is wonderful listening to live music and the acoustics were excellent.

After a coffee break Peter and I went off to the pilgrims office for our final stamp and saw a Camino gear place nearby. I decided to see about a poncho and was delighted to find an excellent version that fitted and was not too big.

I wish I had seen one earlier but I may need it for the coast to coast in a couple of weeks. For the next hike anyway!

A secret garden in the old section of town.

We returned home for lunch and as it had fined up we were sitting on the balcony when the three Australians we met in Conques walked past. We haven’t seen them all week since we left Conques. Walking is funny like that. You see people for days then not for ages and then bam they are in the same place.

While the others went off in various directions I decided a quiet time would be more advantageous and enjoyed the chance to talk to cousin Tracy and husband John who have just completed their Camino to Santiago de Compostella. The full walk of close to 800 kms too.

Our saved bread and meagre breakfast provisions were all we had to get us going this morning. 24/7 just doesn’t exist in France in the country. We had a weather forecast for rain so we wanted to get a move on. The route was mainly roads to begin with and my right foot hates roads. Then the rain came, gently at first but soon it was heavy and as we were on the ridge sometimes we were walking through mist.

The little town we were hoping would have a bar had nothing so it was onward. We sheltered at one bus stop and ate mars bars and snickers! There wasn’t even a seat. By now I am feeling persecuted! But when the going gets tough the tough get going and we pushed on. I sang lots of motivating ditties to distract me from my tender foot.We had a brief stop at the beginning of the path alongside the Lot. At least it was flat. The rain eased off but still it was wet.

The path was rather charming, almost tunnel like until we hit some farmed fields. Then it turned to clay and we were slipping and sliding. Andy, Karen and I nearly came to grief but had jumped into the muddy field. It was Peter who took a fall. He fell into undergrowth on the river side (with stinging nettles) and was too afraid to move for fear of sliding into the river. His pack was too hard to get off with the poncho on.

We were a little ahead by now and decided to wait for him on a pontoon beside the path. He seemed to be taking ages so we were about to ring him and were getting ready to go back when a French couple, fellow walkers who we had passed and who had passed us a couple of times, walked by and told us he was coming. He emerged from the undergrowth with muddy bottom and knees, muddy rose in his stick but fortunately no other damage. The couple had pulled him up. He had thought if he moved too much he would slip down to the river which was very close to the path.

Glad to see him okay we moved off again. We saw a charming small village on the opposite side of the river but no way to get to it. La Roque de Arc

There was nothing on our path but shrubs and farmland. We came across a boat lock and a boat owner trying to get his boat up river. He sounded like a tourist who was not sure what to do to get his boat up stream. There are lots of locks on the Lot and the last one we noticed was quite tricky looking. They are usually at the end of a weir but this one was not completely separated from the river. A bit of skill required to keep your craft in that lock!

Our path continued into more overgrown shrubs and it began to feel unrelenting. Finally we arrived at Cahors and hit the first bar we could find for lunch, just before it closed. I think we looked so desperate the guy was too kind to refuse us. We made it easy by having the menu of the day and each plate was practically licked clean. Restored, almost, we asked some women to photograph us with the church in the background. Andy had wanted to go to some bridge which is iconic in Cahors but Peter, Karen and I were over walking with our packs. 7 hours walking today with only the briefest of stops and hardly any food.

It was nobody’s fault. The little towns are close but the shopping is done in different, larger places by car! There are just not many places open for purchasing provisions in these little villages, especially on Saturday and Sunday and often even Mondays.

We made it to Cahors and we are all okay, a little foot sore, over carrying our tents but happy and proud of ourselves. This was a tough walk of nearly 800 kms which has challenged us but provided fantastic opportunities to see different parts of France, away from the usual tourist haunts.

It will seem strange not hitting the road again in a day or so.

We started the day with no real breakfast, just a couple of small muesli bars and some fresh cherries straight from the tree. The camp ground had no breakfast food till too late and we had no opportunity to get anything coming to, or leaving Larganol. The old Mill pond and house.

Despite our meagre breakfast we made good time and passed some quaint villages on the Lot riverside with houses abutting the sandstone cliffs. At one stage we stopped to rest and have a few lollies and this lovely lady came up from her garden to warn us that there was a serious weather front coming our way and that there had been huge hail stones in the mountains and a child had died. She wanted us to be careful. I have been so impressed with country French people. They are so kind and friendly and helpful. Many have gone out of their way to assist us.

The sky was looking overcast and threatening but still no rain. We hustled ourselves and finally reached St Circ about 11.00 where we descended upon the first place that was open for coffee and whatever they could give us. We had two baskets of bread with butter and jam because that was all they had! We proceeded up (always up!) to the village of St Circ.

It is delightfully quaint despite being quite touristy and somewhat like Conque yet more arty. We found the tourist office and the lady was so pleasant and happy to mind our packs while we explored the town and the Chemin de Halage (a tow path). Our campsite is out of town so we needed to dump the packs.

The tow path was found after a 2.5km walk down a steep hill and along the canal to where they have undercut the limestone cliffs so they could pull the barges along with merchandise when canals were used commercially.

The town is very pretty and has the remains of a fort and was a walled city originally.

After lunch we took the Chemin de Brigands path( glorified goat track) UP above the town to the ridge where we then walked to our camping ground but we are staying in a chalet. The chalet was the LAST One UP the hill of course! It is very nice and the pool is open and heated (a bit) but I could manage to swim and it was refreshing after sweating up two hills today. Our chalet is very compact but comfy and has a great view. We are eating outside despite threatening thunder and the odd rain drops. We cooked our own meal and it was simple pasta but delicious. We reserved the extra bread from lunch at the restaurant so we would have something for breakfast! It is Sunday and there are no food shops in the village.

It has been an interesting day.

No internet so no pictures and text and I am out of data. Will post when I get wifi.

We left Gréalou about 7.30 after breakfast which Esther had left ready for all of us. We washed our dishes to help her out and chatted to the young Japanese walker who turned up late last night asking for food and a bath. He was camping and Esther showed him a space beside the church and was so kind to him. He is a student and hoping to walk to Santiago but has French friends to visit so may not make it to the end.

Today’s walk was reasonably gentle and short. We deviated from the GR65 ( Chemin St Jacques) to follow the ridge and end up beside the Lot River for the next two days .

We walked through lanes and rough tracks, many with dry stone rock walls with wild honeysuckle and dog roses. This area was depopulated when phyloxia struck in the 1830s which explains the fields apparently let go wild and now being reforested with Oaks, Mountain ash and a type of Maple.

We also came across prehistoric burial sites called Dolmens. The drystone walls are also a modern development when ploughs were used because more stones were revealed so they made walls with the rocks!

We eventually arrived at a view point high above the Lot Valley which is so neatly cultivated and a contrast to where we have been walking. We had seen lots of dead shrubs and we were told that a Box Moth has decimated the box plants.

While we were sitting above the valley we all thought this would be a good place to hang glide but it was a bit windy and a young guy appeared. I asked him if he was a hang glider ( I had seen a car with something on the roof) and he said yes but it was too windy today.

Our relaxing sit was quickly disturbed by Karen finding a tick on her arm! We packed up after that.

We arrived at our campsite at Ruissieu Triel which is run by an English couple. It seems odd to arrive in a little bit of England as the other campers are English. Our campsite neighbours offered us a cup of tea which was so kind. They have a mobile home and have been travelling around France.

We have had another lazy afternoon reading and playing cards. After the last few weeks it seems a bit odd to have so much time. The campsite managers offered to cook us a meal tonight even though the restaurant isn’t officially open because we are a few kilometres from town and the only restaurant wasn’t open! That was really nice of them but breakfast doesn’t come till 8.30 which is too late when we want to get to St-Cirq-Lapopie tomorrow which is an arty town and close to some interesting cliffs that became a tow path for the river.

We will eat cherries off the trees as we go instead!

As I climbed off my bunk this morning my feet felt tender on the rungs but I had had a solid sleep and felt good otherwise. We were the early risers and only met another French couple and the young German who had said the photo of me had gone viral. We were soon underway and climbing out of the valley up to the ridge. We were delighted to find a village 7 kms along for second breakfast and meet up with John and Wayne and meet Wayne’s son who has come across to walk with his dad for a couple of weeks. He jokingly told us his second name and his birthdate on the basis we knew so much about him already. It is pretty true. You do often talk about your family so that when you meet them it is as if you have known them for some time! We motored on and the track was undulating through both road and forest so it was delightful walking. We happened across a shepherd’s hut which was open for pilgrims to rest. We took the time to sit in the field and just enjoy the day, the birdsong and the rest. wild mint

The flowers are beautiful along the track, even the dandelions are huge. Irises are big in French gardens and I have seen many different colours. We even stumbled on an orchid in the middle of know where

We arrived early to our Gîte Volet Bleu and were waiting by the Church when our hostess drove up with the shopping. Karen asked if we could come in anyway and our hostess was very happy for us to do so. She bought homemade lemon drink for refreshments and was so kind and natural it felt like we were old friends!

Esther is a warm, Swiss woman who painted many of the pictures in the Gîte but now has no time and plays music instead. We have been listening to her practising on her accordion this afternoon which gives her great pleasure and is very entertaining. She has been running the Gîte for 17 years and told me she loves to meet new people all the time, to love them for a day and then send them on their way.

Esther told us over the most delicious vegetarian dinner ( and it wasn’t pizza or omelette), that she bought the house with the help of her parents and was going to run Art workshops but while she was renovating all the people kept knocking on the door asking for water, food, or a bed. So she decided that she would help pilgrims instead. She didn’t know what they needed but had to imagine what it felt like to walk all day. She has created the most delightful, warm, comfortable and quirky Gite with her artistic flair. Her cooking is fantastic too.

After a restless night in the tent I woke feeling a bit out of sorts. I think actually after nearly six weeks I am a bit tired. The tent was wet and so it felt heavy on the pack. We were getting away early to reduce walking in the heat which Karen finds difficult, so we were having to hustle. We walked to the boulangerie for breakfast pastries but the bar where we had dined last night was not yet open so no coffee which might have helped!. It was the usual climb out of town to start the day but the track soon turned to tarmac and my feet started to feel it. They were still a bit tender from yesterday’s road walk. Andy and I got ahead and decided to dry the tents in a parking lot. Karen wanted to press on while it was relatively cool so we arranged to meet at the next Chapel. With the tents mostly dried, Andy and I set off in pursuit of the others. Along the track we met up with John, the Californian, but were disturbed to find he was really struggling and finding the official route too hard on his body. He only has 2/3rds of his heart ( after a serious heart attack many years ago), and has developed a sore knee. He was taking the road because it was easier for him.

When we met up with the others at the Chapel I was already in agony. We decided to also take the road to shorten the day slightly.. Now it was me who was struggling. My feet were burning! The small gel pads I had put into my boot were not helping and my left foot was screaming. We detoured into St Felix to a bar. The first thing I did was take off my boots and socks to liberate my feet. Relief! Just sitting down helps. I decided to change my socks for the lighter ones and have a beer and a coffee! John and Wayne were there already. They were saying how hard the last few days were on them both.

Haynaking in the fields.

While we were enjoying our drinks a group of other pilgrims arrived. One German woman was complaining about her feet and then went on to say that all the pilgrims have a problem, be it feet, knees, backs, shoulders or their packs! Jean Michel piped up and said he didn’t have any problems. Everyone in unison laughingly told him he should go home! I chimed in and said we could give him a problem. He of course declined to take on a problem. It was all very merry. As we left I said he might be lucky and find a problem!

My feet had appreciated the change of socks and rest and I motored on without too much trouble after that. We stopped further along for another break and a lone Aussie turned up. We chatted for a while but he moved on and I haven’t seen him since.

We came across an interesting house with a dovecot in the roof. Dovecotes and pigeonieres were quite common in the area in the last few centuries in this area. We also saw the round huts, Cazelles. They were used for shelter by shepherds through the summer.

We arrived in Figeac without knowing much about it. Our first stop was for an ice cream because the Gîtes don’t usually open till 3.00 pm. After that we wound our way through the winding medieval streets to our Gîte Celia. It is the first time we have been on the ground floor! It is quite small and comfy enough. It had the smallest shower I have seen since Spain! No room to dress only shower. We did our usual chores then went off to explore. They had a free exhibition about the history of Figeac which had been a powerhouse of commerce and abbeys during medieval times. About five different orders set up convents and monasteries to minister to pilgrims and the population and at one stage trade with England was strong in linen, wool and wine. At one stage during the 1600s the place was under Protestant control for about 60 years but then the plague and the 100 years war decimated the population. It was an interesting town.

They have a museum of writing. Apparently someone from here cracked the hieroglyphs on the Rosetta Stone and this is a replica in a courtyard beside the museum.

We were all very tired and after bumping into Mary, who was still having phone problems and whose luggage had yet to be delivered, we shared a drink and then went off to dinner at the Gîte. Jean Michel and his friend the Dutchman, Jan, were staying there too. We have bumped into them several times over the last few days. The tall Dutchman has got a bad knee and has had to have his bag shifted for him. He said that their was a photo of me that had gone viral! I was notable for my big packpack and small size. The strong little Aussie woman.

He and his friend Jean Michel were having an amazing adventure and loving meeting so many people and seeing everyone so happy. He said they were finding it life changing.

We chatted for awhile but I was so tired I needed to go to bed and write the blog. Trouble was I kept falling asleep so I eventually gave in and slept! Andy stayed on chatting and seemed to have a great time.

Today started with a really stiff climb up the opposite side of the mountain from Conques. Lots of rough rocks, big steps and many pilgrims! I was perspiring so much my glasses fogged up. The first part lead to the Chapel of Saint Foy where everyone rang the bell when they arrived.

For the first time in five weeks I was not the only Australian. I heard an accent go past and at the Chapel I introduced myself. They were three guys from Geelong who had walked from Geneva and were finishing at Cahors like us. Then we met Mary Roch from Perth. She is in her mid Seventies and fit as. I felt really inspired to keep walking. She is having her bags shifted but otherwise doing the same distances as us.

We walked across the top of the ridge all day with fabulous views.

There are more pilgrims than we have seen for ages and the Gites are buzzing. We are staying in a very run down camping ground that the manager has just taken over. The shower was good though and he is working very hard to get it functioning again. It is right on the River Lot in a lovely position but it was a shock when we arrived. French camping grounds are usually really neat, smart and well designed.

We ended the day on the road which I find hard on the feet and Karen was getting warm but it was a good days walk. The town Livinhac is unremarkable but we saw lots of new homes on the way and there are a lot of large agricultural concerns around so it seems to be quite prosperous.

Check out the bark on this tree. It is so unusual and beautiful.

We are getting closer to the end and that seems sad in a way.

Thank you everyone for your great comments. I am so pleased you are still interested and I find it hard to respond to everyone but your comments are so appreciated. It is a fantastic but challenging walk that is for sure. Only six days to go and I will miss it.

A gorgeous walk today but we are tired after 9 days walking and will have a day off tomorrow. There were some steady climbs even though we are actually descending overall. This morning we left our campsite which was called Bellevue. It had a 180 degree view over the river valley below filled with mist. We feel on top of the world. We are meeting the same few pilgrims now that we have met over the last 9 days so a loose Camino family has formed. It is one of the pleasures of a walk like this.

We arrived at a little quirky gite to find the”Germans”. They are walking and driving with friends and are having a great time. We always find them in cafes or coffee stops! They are enjoying being in nature and will stop at Conques. The gite had a chapel which we found was a bedroom, a toilet that was so low to the ground it must have been a child’s, and a tap that shot straight up which I discovered when I turned it on! They had set out amongst the flowers a little gazebo with tea and coffee and biscuits for pilgrims. It seemed very Byron Bay.

The Germans have visited Australia and loved it and want to return. They lamented that Australia doesn’t have a walk and Gîte system like Europe. I always have to point out the distances but I do think about whether it could be done somewhere. I also said the only saints are a footy team! We have one Saint Mary McKillop but she is new.

We passed through two pretty medieval towns that are neat and well cared for and seem to be thriving. The gardens are full of unusual coloured Irises and other bright coloured flowers, even Rhododendrens and roses.

Finally we make a descent into Conques. It seems like a secret path, like a snuggker’s route because it is a steep descent through a tunnel of green. You can see nothing until you emerge on a steep slope overlooking the famous cathedral. This is another beautiful town that is so well preserved that is like a fairytale place. No cars in the town and rough stone paving. Not stilleto territory! Quite a few tourists but very quiet nonetheless.

We rewarded ourselves with a glorious ice coupe because it was a hot day and we had arrived! Another milestone accomplished.

Then it was a task to find our campsite down by the river. We are in a mobile home, like a caravan in fixtures but a cabin in fact. The reception we received was very warm and hearty. The woman reminded me of Peter’s aunt Sylvia. Once washed and washing done we decided to have a game of table tennis as they have permanent tables set up. I was feeling a bit stiff but hopping about chasing a yellow ball loosened us up. I actually could keep the ball in play and we managed a top rally of 16! We were in hysterics. Pilgrim ping pong. Then dinner and a stroll UP to the town. We stumbled upon a pilgrim’s mass and the singing by the monks was beautiful and brought the cathedral to life. While inside there was a clatter of rain and after the service we were followed back to the campsite by thunder and lightening.