Aire-sur-l'Adour to Pimbo - A Tale of Armagnac and Priests and An Empty Gite

Daily data:- 19.8 miles, 31.8 KM
Up 377 m down 309 m

In the common room of our Gite there was a set of scales hanging from the ceiling, so before we all set off, we decided to weigh our rucksacks. The lightest two were Lesley's an Anne's weighing in at just over 9 kg, these were followed by Seb's and mine at 10 kg, but the prize for the heavy weight champion of the Gite went to the older Frenchman whose sack weighed a staggering 13.5 kg (that was before he added two aluminium bottles of water)!

Our way this morning was a bit baffling. We left town in the usual way (up hill), the way marks as well as being the usual Red/white balises, were also blue and yellow scallop symbols on a yellow arrow pointing the correct way. In places the red/whites had become faded, but the new signs were always there. We passed by a big man made lake. Soon the red/white balises disappeared altogether, but there was always the new style signs in sight.


After a while we got a bit twitchy as we had expected some off road walking and it had not materialised. We decided to check or British guide book and our French accommodation guide (it has a simple map of the camino in it) to work out where we were: neither bore any resemblance to the route we had been walking! What should we do, go back or trust these new signs? We decided to have faith and in the spirit of pilgrimage and the pilgrim chant of 'Ultreia' (ever onwards) we continued.

At a corner where the signage was a bit indistinct, we stopped and consulted the books again. We had just worked out where we thought we were, when two German men came up and said "you must follow the yellow", so we were now more convinced this was the way to go. Shortly after we were rewarded with a familiar red/white balise.

Our path took us along the right route for about 2km before our guide books and the reality on the ground differed again. The reason we concluded was that they were building a new major trunk road and the Camino had been redirected to avoid it. It also meant that we missed our first village and water point, and in fact we did not visit a village for 20km, when we came to the village of Miramont-Sensacq.

It was after 1pm so we decided to go into the church and say mid-day prayer and then have our lunch. As we sat in the shade with our boots off, beginning to prepare our picnic, a man came over dressed in jeans and an open shirt, "were we pilgrims?" he asked, "yes" we said, and in conversation we told him of our trip. He then told us he was the parish Priest Fr. Roger. Lesley explained that I was also a Priest in the C of E. When he heard this he asked if we would like the parish stamp in our Pilgrim's passport and also a cup of coffee once we had finished our lunch. So following our lunch, we went to Fr. Roger's house, where he stamped our passports and then settled us into his living room whilst he made us coffee.

We then had a chat about our churches etc. He wanted to know how the Anglican Church fared in numbers on a Sunday and in numbers of Priests. In terms of attendance, we both had similar stories to tell each other. He then told us that he and one other priest were responsible for between 16 and 20 parishes, spread over quite a large area (sounds like rural Norfolk!).

Fr. Roger then told us that he had been able to walk the last 100km of the Camino to Santiago himself, but gave the impression that he would like to do the whole walk, if he had the time.

He asked if we liked French cuisine to which we replied 'yes'. As a conversation piece, I also said I liked Armagnac. Fr. Roger asked if I would like one, I said yes, and so he opened a cupboard with about 10 or 15 bottles of different Armagnacs, pulled out a bottle and poured me an Armagnac into my coffee cup.

After I had consumed the drink, we took our leave and after much handshaking resumed our journey, buoyed up by the friendly welcome of this hard working Priest.

We were grateful that we had decided to stop in the village of Pimbo tonight rather than go on to the next town another 7km away, as it meant that we could spend time with Fr. Roger, because after all this is what pilgrimage is all about, encounters with many different and varied people.

We were also grateful when we got to Pimbo and were shown into the Gite by the lady from the tourist office. There was a five bed bedroom, a kitchen / common room with a terrace, bathroom etc. And by six when the tourist office closed, we realised that we had this all to ourselves.



We did our laundry and hung it outside to dry, we then went to explore and discovered a little winery in the village near the church. Unfortunately it was closed, so we went to the Church for evening prayer and then back to the Gite to make our meal. As it was cooking I popped back to the winery, found the owner and tasted and bought a very nice bottle of his wine which we had with our meal. As the evening was warm we ate out on the terrace looking fantastic views of some of the countryside we had travelled across.


Tonight was the second time I regretted not having a car, so I could take a couple of cases of Pimbo wine home with me!

On the Camino in France

Arblade-le-Haut to Aire sur-l'Adour - A Day of the True Pilgrim Spirit

Daily totals:- 28.6 km (17.8 miles) up 216m down 192m

As with previous days this week, the day started with a thick mist which did not burn off until about mid-day. After breakfast, we set out walking. Our first task was to rejoin the camino as we were off piste, this we did after a couple of KMs. Again the way took us through fields of grape vines, either freshly harvested or heavy with grapes awaiting the harvest. After about 6km, we came across a small church where we stopped to say morning prayer. As we prayed a French couple came in for their own prayers. We left them to their contemplation and carried on our way.

We soon encountered one of the groups of what we call "plastic pilgrims" (a large group, who book up all the accommodation, have a car to take their baggage from A to B, so they walk with tiny daysacks, and at lunch time bring them a sumptuous picnic with coffee, wine and all the trimmings). This particular group were also taking bunches of grapes off the vines, eating a few and then discarding the rest.

We lost this group at lunchtime as they stopped to await their caterers.

Our host at Arblade-le-Haut had been keen to suggest another shorter route to Aire-sur-l'Adour, which he thought was prettier, but we had decided to follow the official GR65 route instead. At about 1pm our route turned a sharp right to walk beside a railway line. At the turn was a notice board empty except a notice in a sandwich bag that read in large letters "Jeremy + Leslie Norfolk England".



It was a note from the three original Canadian women, Maureen, Melanie and Nadine, saying "hope this finds you + your feet + pilgrim bear are well. This is our last day". It was dated the 24th and had been waiting for us for 5 days. We had last seen the girls in Cahors where they were leap frogging to Condom as they had done that leg already. Also left with the note was a fruit bar from someone from Quebec - if you ever read this blog girls, it was great to find your note and it really boosted our spirits. We hope the rest of your Camino goes well over the next few years.

Buoyed up, we went on our way. A little while later we came across a bench with signs and notices inviting pilgrims to take a rest. We were also invited to help ourselves to drinks and fruit, but, alas there was none. The bench had been put there by a lady called Elizabeth to aid pilgrims on their way.


A little later on we stopped for lunch, and as we sat the French couple who had come into the church during our morning prayer passed, stopping to have a chat with us about our journey.

We continued towards Aire-sur-l'Adour passing by a couple of large supermarkets and walking along a busy main road before crossing the river Adour on a bridge festooned with flags of all the European nations reaching the town of Aire-sur-l'Adour itself.


We stopped at the Office de Tourisme, to get directions to our gite, the totally aptly named "La Maison des Pelerins" owned and run by a former pilgrim. Before we got there we liked the fact that Jean-Michel the owner would not let large groups block book the accommodation. In some ways the house reminded us of the Tea Houses we stayed in Nepal, even down to the Buddhist pray flags and picture of the Dali Lama! As accommodation went it was what Pilgrims accommodation should be about. It wasn't glitzy like some of the places we have stayed, it was simple and down to earth, with a large kitchen for us to cook in, laundry facilities, simple but clean bedrooms, bathrooms an loos and a comfortable common room to relax in.

We arrived and after booking in, were greeted by Seb and Ann our French friends, who offered to cook for us all. After the usual washing and showering we headed into town and found an open Wi-Fi spot, posted our blogs and picked up emails from friends and family. Over a glass of beer I also started to catch up on the latest goings on from Ambridge which I haven't heard for a month.

We headed back to the Gite and offered to help with the cooking, but were turned down as Seb wanted to cook for us! We relaxed in the common room and I phoned Dad to wish him a happy birthday. We then sat down to eat, Seb had cooked a wonderful tagliatelle dish, with turkey and goats cheese. Accompanied with a lovely green salad. We were joined for the meal by Gwen a Breton who was on his own, and had been invited by Seb to join us, at the table were an older French couple eating their meal, with us all joining in the conversation and sharing our wine. Once we had cleared away Ann sat down and played the piano, while Gwen played a guitar and sung old British and American pop songs. All in all it was a fantastic day.

When we had set out this was what I had imagined the camino spirit to be about, but had not fully experienced, today we had had it in spades!

On the Camino in France

Lost and stung - Eauze to Arblade le Haut

I woke up with a stinking headache, (and no before you say it, it was not because of too much red wine! - we had Rose). Outside there was a heavy mist. After breakfast we made visits to the patisserie, the chemist and the church, and then we were off.

For a second day we were walking through fields full of grapevines, and the harvest is beginning to be in full swing.

Like me you probably have a picture of bronzed men and women with wicker baskets on their backs, carefully cutting each bunch of the vine and placing them in the basket.

The reality is very different! One man drives a large machine over the tops of the grapevines and this machine harvests the grapes, which are then put into large skips (like the ones at council tips in the UK) and the grapes are then taken to a factory for processing.


All morning we had been following at a distance the young French couple (Seb & Anne) we had met last night. Seb was wearing a very bright hi viz orange hat. A little while later we passed them and said to Seb how much his hat showed up. He told us that he was wearing it as a precaution against hunters because he said "I am not a rabbit" and a drunken hunter could well confuse a six foot Frenchman with a 9 inch rabbit! I don't have a hi vis hat, but I do have a bright orange "Mr Easyjet" rucksack so hopefully hunters should not confuse Lesley and myself for rabbits either.

When we reached the town of Manciet we had to cross a major trunk road using a road bridge. As we crossed we could smell the grape lorries as they passed underneath. We stopped at the church to say midday prayer, only to find it shut. There was however, an oratory of St James, (a small room with a window looking into the church, and just behind the window was a picture of St James). So we stopped and said the office, before continuing on our way.

We left the town passing a scrapyard before continuing in open countryside, as we went up a small hill I heard a shout from Lesley, looked around to see her all contorted, I asked what was wrong, "I'm being stung by a bee" I leaped into action removing the offending insect, which then turned around and stung me on the arm. "it's gone I said", "no it's not, it's just stung me on the ear" said Lesley. It turned out two bees had attacked Lesley, I had got no 2, who had got me, but no 1 had already stung Lesley. I removed the stings from both of us and as a precaution we both took an anti-histamine.

It was about half an hour later that we realised that we had not seen a balise marking the route for a while, also where there was a possible left or right there were no balises indicating a turn. I was then worried we might have taken the wrong route. We read our guide book and concluded that we had missed a right turn 2.5 km back. We turned around and retraced our steps. As our last map for the route ran out just before Condom, (and we have been unable to buy the next one), we couldn't look for an alternative route.

We also realised that the route back would probably take us past the irate Bees again. However, luck was on our side, after retracing our steps for about 1km we came to a side road with signs to a gite and church we knew were on our route, so we took the turn and after another km regained the correct route.

As we retraced our steps we reflected that in nearly three weeks and over 500 km of walking this was the first time we had gone wrong, which is not a bad achievement. We also mused that perhaps the bees had been trying to tell Lesley that we had gone the wrong way, as they were buzzing in her ear, and perhaps they had stung her in frustration when she hadn't listened!


Eventually we got back on the route and came to the church of Sainte Christie where we stopped for lunch, but unfortunately the church was locked, as ever a disappointment. After lunch we continued to the town of Nogaro where we bumped into Seb and Ann again who had wondered what had happened to us as they had not seen us, so we explained that we went wrong.

After getting something for tomorrow's lunch, and a glass of Orangina we set out to walk the last 2.5 km to our nights halt at Arblade de Haut, (all up hill of course!) we arrived at our gite and were welcomed with a cold glass of mint squash, before our host showed us to our room. After the usual round of showers and washing, we sat on the terrace with our hosts and our fellow guests (including Seb & Anne) for a beer.

There were 11 of us who sat down for supper, we 2 Brits, 3 Germans and 6 French people. With great ceremony our host brought out two bottles of Floc de Gascogne, the drink we had first tasted at Therese's in Miradoux, he explained that it was grape juice fortified with Armagnac. The Floc was followed by a courgette soup, a lightly spiced tagine type dish from Reunion, served with rice, and a desert similar to Breton fa with Apple.

Over dinner we talked with Seb and Anne, and in conversation the speed of my walking came up. Lesley had been commenting on how after 28km I was still walking at the same (fast) pace. Seb said he had noticed that I seemed to keep on going and that they had nicknamed me the Terminator, as like Arni in the film I was relentless. I found this quite funny. Seb and Anne are also doing a blog and so we swapped blog addresses.

Finally a happy birthday to my dad for tomorrow 29th September.

On the Camino in France

Condom to Eauze

Distance 20.8 miles or 33.5 km
Up 289m down 296m

The accommodation determines the distance!

We set off bright and early, with just a brief stop at a patisserie, (we had spied out yesterday), to get our breakfast. We started our day's walk by walking alongside the river, before heading inland. At first we walked through the usual freshly ploughed fields, occasionally spying out hunters touting shotguns, or hearing their guns go off. Very soon the terrain began to change and we were surrounded by grape vines, growing grapes of at least three different varieties that I could spot (so in truth there were probably about 10 or 20).


The grape vines spread in neat rows for acre upon acre. As our path took us through the vines it was tempting to go and help myself to a grape or two, however, after our discussion about scrumping with Georgina Sykes and our feelings when we had seen others helping themselves to other farmers crops, it wasn't hard to resist the urge.




At about 12 we came to the town of Montreal-du-Gers, which was just starting to gear itself up for a fête, with a silver band, pony rides, a bouncy castle, a bar and much, much more. We slipped into the church for morning prayer and continued on our way.

For the last half of our walk we walked on the bed of an old railway line, passing an old station for the village of Bretagne d'Armagnac, aptly named as the station yard was full of vans and cars with British registrations.

Despite the distance the first 29 km were quite easy, it was the last 4.5 km which was the killer and seemed to last for 30 or 40 km!

We eventually arrived at Eauze to find that to get in the gite you booked in at the tourist office, which was closed. The office had a list of room allocations already made, which included a group of 15. The chances were that there wouldn't be a place for us, so we checked into a budget hotel instead.

It seems however, that we are suffering at the moment from the curse of the toilets. Last night the loo in our room kept on filling and filling unless we took the lid off and fiddled with the innards. Tonight it's a dodgy seat only attached on one side. The trouble with limited French is it's not easy to explain these problems!

We had gone demi-pension to save us setting out again to find food. So after a beer we went to the restaurant. The thing about demi-pension is you don't know what you are getting until it arrives. The starters came: a green salad with Anchovies. Not good for me, with my fish allergy. I gave Lesley the anchovies and hoped for the best. When the main course came, I was on cloud nine but Lesley was not so happy, as we were presented with steak and chips, the steaks being cooked Bleu. After a short discussion I called the waitress over, pointed to Lesley's steak and before I could say anything else she said bien cuit, (would you like it cooked a bit more - she obviously knew the British palate). Lesley accepted her offer whilst I declined, and shortly afterward the steak arrived back rare, the nearest a French chef can bring himself to cook a steak to well done!

Whilst having our beer before our meal we bumped into a young French couple we had seen walking the camino on a number of occasions over the last week or so, but had never spoken to before, the man spoke excellent English having learnt it so he could understand the jokes in Monty Pythons flying circus properly. They were enjoying the camino but felt that sometimes with the number of large groups of walkers it was a bit like a production line rather than a pilgrimage. Like us they are keeping a blog, but unlike us prior to this trip they had never walked, but were very much enjoying the experience. They are walking as far as St Jean Pied-de-Port so hopefully we will see more of them.

On the Camino in France

A rest day in Condom

When we left Figeac we had planned to have a rest day in Condom. The original plan was to arrive here today (Saturday) just before lunch and leave either tommorow afternoon or Monday morning. However, because of the night halts, the ease of the terrain and our improved fitness after twenty days of walking, we brought forward our plans and arrived yesterday afternoon.

Before we went to bed, we had been told by the hotel owner that we could have breakfast at any time we wanted as it was entirely self service. In a corridor on the ground floor, they had set out our breakfast, and in a fridge nearby they had left orange juice, butter, jam and milk. A gas ring and saucepan had been provided for us to heat our water and milk, and the timing was up to us!


After breakfast we set out to explore. From our room we had a fine view of the Cathedral tower and the river.


We decided to go first to the cathedral and say morning prayer, before we did anything else.

From the outside it's a magnificant building, and the inside it's equally impressive. The fabric is well cared for and it is obviously a place that has been prayed in for centuries, and gives you a sense of peace and the presence of God as soon as you go in and sit down.

This sense of the other, is aided by organ and choral music being gently played through the church's sound system (something I have noticed in many French churches).

Condom cathedral is somewhere that both of us felt we could spend hours in, and is, we felt, one of the most "spiritual" churches we have been in on the pilgrimage so far.

It was now 11am and we decided to visit La Poste again to see if the iPod had arived. (In truth both of us expected it not to have, due to the industrial action in England, and we had been looking at how to get back to Condom from places further along on the trip). I presented my passport, the lady went to the cupboard for Post Restante letters and came back with not just one but two jiffy bags for us. One was my iPod fixed and firing on all four cylinders thanks to the ministrations of Nick. The other a food parcel from Meryl. We immediately headed for a cafe with wi-fi to send them an e-mail to say the parcels had safely arived.

As it was a nice day, we decided to have a walk along the river and also check out where the Camino left town, ready for tomorrow. On the river were a group of youngsters messing about in canoes and obviously having a whale of a time.


On the way back we had to weave our way around men playing petanque on a gravel square opposite our hotel.


By this time it was lunch time so we bought a few bits from a pattiserie and ate them sitting in the sun.

In the afternoon we went to a cyber cafe to upload our pictures and then did some shopping, before a meal and bed.





On the Camino in France

Marsolan to Condom - A day of plans thwarted.

The figures for the day 15.6 miles/25.1km - up 427m & down 525 m

We set out bright and early, with all our clothes clean and dried and no sign of a black spaniel! As usual, after 5 minutes we stopped to stretch, as we have been taught by Tonya our Nordic and power walking instructor at Pinewoods Gym.

After 5km we had a choice, either to take a 6km shortcut or follow the correct route around two sides of a triangle to the village of La Romieu. La Romieu's claim to fame is it's very large church, built when thousands of pilgrims were passing through every month in the middle ages. We had decided that we would where possible follow the historic path of the camino, and so we plumped for going to La Romieu and planned to stop in the church to say morning prayer.

The approach to La Romieu was fantastic, after walking through acres of ploughed fields or fields in the process of being ploughed, we were now walking through acres of apple orchards. We turned a corner and there was La Romieu in all it's glory, and at it's centre the fantastic looking church.

As we entered the village we discovered it's other claim to fame, it is the village of Cats (a place my sister in law, Meryl, would love), on walls, peeking out of windows, roofs, and signs are stone cats, lots and lots of them.


We moved into the village and looked into the cloister of the church where we saw a sign "to visit the Church tickets can be bought at the tourist information". We were not happy, the great churches in Le Puy, Conques, Figeac and Moissac hadn't charged for people to enter, so why did La Romieu? We will never know the answer as we decided not to go in! The only door we darkened was that of the pattiserie where I bought gorgeous, if somewhat overpriced, Florentines. We then left La Romieu for good, and travelled on, saying morning prayer and eating our Florentines in the next village.

The sun was getting hotter and hotter as we continued on, passing into grape country with acre upon acre of grape vines, which I had been expecting as Condom is the centre of the Armagnac industry. Walking over the brow of a hill we saw Condom laid out before us, there was a rustle in the undergrowth and Lesley saw a snake (about four foot long) disappearing into the undergrowth, (I had also seen a similar specimen on the canal towpath a few days ago).

As we reached the town centre I spied the La Poste and we popped in to get my iPod, unfortunately due to industrial action in the UK it hadn't arrived, so we agreed that we would return tomorrow morning to retrieve it.

After a quick visit to tourist information to get a map, we headed to our proposed hotel for the next two nights, only to find it closed until 4:30. So still encumbered with our rucksacks we headed back into town for a drink until it opened.

At 4:30 we went back and sorted a room, we asked for demi-pension for tonight and just a bed for tomorrow, to which the owner agreed. He then told us the meal would be at 8pm. So after showers and laundry we headed back to town for a beer. As we had the munch we picked up some peanuts to eat with our beer. At the bar we picked, when 7pm came along, the bar man brought out dishes of chips and more peanuts. Quite full, we headed back to our hotel for our meal. The chips were a mistake! The meal we were presented with started with vegetable soup, this was followed by a massive salad with charcutarie. We were then presented with poulet with spaghetti bolognaise. And if that was not enough, a pudding doused in Armagnac.

Hopefully after that little lot we will be able to sleep!

On the Camino in France

Miradoux to Marsolan

Today we went up 365m and down 428m. And we walked 27.3 km or 17 miles.

After a restful night's sleep we got up and went to breakfast, which was just as chaotic as supper, with Therese dressed in a large flowing caftan trying to cater to every one's needs including boiling up a litre of milk for my hot chocolate.

Staying in the house with us, was a German lad from Hanover, who whilst camping in the woods had done something to the tendons in his foot. He had tried to limp on but had to give up and had been sent to Therese by someone in the village as she had been a nurse. She had taken him to the doctor, applied ice packs, and given him foot massages.

His foot which had been very swollen looked better but it was still painful so Therese was taking him off to Lectoure (the nearest large town) to see a different doctor for a second opinion.

So with hurried goodbyes we took our leave of this wonderful lady. This was one of those encounters, which is what pilgrimage is all about, and which you would never have if you went on one of the pre-packaged trips on the Camino that many of our fellow walkers were taking.



Thus buoyed up, we went on our way. We stopped at the village of Castet-Arrouy to say morning prayer and were greeted by a pack of dogs, one, a black spaniel, tried to lick my legs and followed us into the church.

When we had finished and came out of the Church, the black spaniel decided to come with us, it obviously knew the route as it would range all over the fields in front of us, and then would be waiting at the turns in the track, almost saying to us "it's this way, come on you slow coaches". We told it to go home, and that it's owners would be worried about it, but it just wouldn't leave us alone.

(At this stage I had visions of our holiday walking the Corfu trail when a couple of stray dogs latched onto our group, and raided a chicken coup, resulting in an irate woman chasing after us and demanding compensation. When the dogs and some friends tried to follow us the next day, we thwarted them by blocking the exit to a pedestrian bridge over a fast flowing waterway with some pallets).

The dog had now been with us for over 5km but if we shouted at her all she did was slink and cower. The town of Lectoure was rapidly approaching and still the dog kept with us, as we got to the town she continued to lead us onwards.


As we approached the Cathedral, she went around a corner at the same time as we spied a nice little garden where we could have our lunch. We darted in, sat down and lunched, we had lost her at last! Perhaps she had now gone home, I didn't think she was a stray as she had a collar and tag, and seemed well fed as she did not try and beg when we had our eleven o'clock snack.

Over lunch we reviewed our options, should we stop here in Lectoure as planned or should we go further tonight and press on to Condom to pick up my iPod on Friday instead of Saturday. The decision hinged on accommodation at Marsolan, Lesley made a phone call, yes they had beds, so we decided to press on once we had explored the town.

Our first stop was the Cathedral: obviously it had a thriving congregation and was a much loved and well used building. Whilst in the Cathedral I discovered why I had been a bit uncomfortable walking this morning. Each night we wash out socks and underwear and then the next day, if it's not completely dry, we attach it to our rucksacks with nappy pins to finish the drying process. I discovered that I still had a nappy pin attached to my underwear, hence the discomfort!

After I had adjusted my hose, we then had a look round the rest of town. We then decided to have an Orangina before continuing on our way, so we popped into an open air bar we had seen. Unfortunately someone else had got there before us, the black spaniel! Should we turn tail and run, or should we sit down and have a drink? We decided to brave it out and ordered our drinks. Was the bar one of her regular stopping points (as she seemed quite at home?) Would she follow us again when we left? All these questions went through our minds, however, just before we planned to leave, the black spaniel trotted off never to be seen again.

Relieved, we continued on our way through vast rolling fields to the village of Marsolan to our Gite. When we arrived, our host explained that had been going to share our room with a French chap who had passed us on the road, but that he had changed his mind and upgraded to Chambre d'hote, (I didn't think we smelt that bad - after all we do take regular showers and wash our clothes). His decision worked to our favour as we had the room to ourselves. It was another hot day and we were able to get a lot of washing dried and settle down to relax in the Gite garden, before another fantastic meal. 15 of us sat down to eat and a very friendly Frenchman kept on plying us with wine so we slept very well.

On the Camino in France

Pommeric to Miradoux - A stay a difference

23.8 km - 14.8 miles - up 428m down 305 m

After three long days of walking our feet were beginning to pay the price, so we decided to have a shorter day. After a breakfast of Croissant, Pain au chocolat and bread we set out.

The day was warm, despite a thick mist which obscured the view. After an abortive attempt to find some bread, we set off, first crossing the canal and river Garonne. We then started uphill to the lovely town of Auvillar where, because we were in search of bread, we missed seeing the Market Hall which is supposed to be a bit special.

Our route then took us through rolling countryside with massive fields, where corn or sunflowers had been growing.


We passed through a secession of beautiful villages with wonderful old buildings.

By 1 pm the sun had come out and it was getting hotter. As we passed an isolated house, the lady of the house called "hello" rather than the usual "bonjour". After a couple of steps it registered: we stopped and had a chat. They were ex-pats living in France who confessed that they knew very little French. Like the other English couple we met, they asked if we needed anything and if they could help in any way, which was very kind of them.

We travelled on to Saint-Antoine where we stopped for an Orangina and then had a picnic lunch.


From then on we travelled in a virtual straight line to the hill village of Flamarens,


which has a beautiful castle and a church that fell down in a major way about 15 years ago (reminding me of the old church at Hindolveston). From there it was four km to our final destination at Miradoux.

We had read in our guide books about places called "Accueil Pelerin": these are private houses owned by people who either have walked to Santiago or are committed to the Idea of the pilgrimage. They open their houses to fellow pilgrims to stay for the night or just pop in for a coffee on route, all for a donation.

Planning for our day, we had read that there was an Accueil Pelerin in Miradoux and so we decided to try one. The guide book also said that this one reserved a place for those who had not reserved a place.

We approached the house that was adorned with symbols of the camino, like some 1960's commune. As we looked at the house a lady in her 60's came out of the house "can I help you?" she asked, we plunged in, "have you two beds for tonight" asked Lesley, she said yes, and there was no turning back. The lady was Therese Fardo the owner of the house. She took us through a large room with a table, lots of chairs, and adorned with all sorts of pilgrim memorabilia, and a poster about reflexology on feet, to a back room with a double bed, a sink and a bidet, and asked if it was OK, we agreed and were then asked if we wanted a drink. We took off our boots and went back to the room, where Therese produced two beers. (it was only afterwards we realised all the other pilgrims were drinking tea). Perhaps Therese knew instinctively that for Brits there is nothing like a cold continental beer to slake our thirst!)

Therese then enquired if we had any washing, we suggested that we could do it in our room by hand, but Therese insisted that she had a machine and that it would be no bother, furthermore she would be putting a basket for our laundry outside our door. We retreated to our room and asked ourselves, was this Accueil Pelerin thing a mistake, especially for us who only spoke pidgin French. But the dice were cast, so we would have to go through with it.

We showered and gave Therese our dirty clothes, we then went to look at the village and say evening prayer in the church, before returning to Therese's for our evening meal. On our return Lesley was told how our washing had been hung out in the garden.

Eventually 7:30 arrived and all the pilgrims came and sat at the table. The table had been laid with eleven places, (two short of the number who eventually sat at table) with a mountain of fruit in the middle, about four bottles of wine, some nuts and sunflower seeds, which we all tucked into with abandon. Lesley thought that Therese had said that the meal would be salad and charchuterie. The meal proper, started with Therese bringing in some large bowls of salad in a lovely dressing, this was passed around while she opened a variety of cans of different pate. (Lesley was quick to point out that one was "head pate" and perhaps we might want to avoid it!) At that point Therese launched into a chorus of Ultreia, the pilgrims song we had learned at Conques, before toasting our venture.

As Therese has said salad and charcuterie we thought that was it, a reasonable meal for someone trying to feed the five thousand on a limited budget. Once the salad was cleared she disappeared, returning with plates of green beans mixed other veg and baked new potatoes. She disappeared again and brought in a tray of roasted pork, pork ribs and chicken (this was the charcuterie she had promised, not the pate). The trouble was that most people had filled up with salad, beans and potato, so had little appetite for the meat! However, I tried to do my best. This course was followed by cheese, washed down with a glass of Floc de Gasgoigne ( a local drink that tasted like a medium sweet Sherry). As we drunk we sung another round of Ultreia, before being serenaded by a couple of French women with a French pilgrims song they had found on the Internet, (we did briefly contemplate a rendition of "He who would valiant be", but thought better of it.)

The meal finished and between us we set about washing up. After this, Therese sat down to issue us with our pilgrims stamps. As she worked, we all slipped our contribution/donation into a pot in the shape of a mallard sitting on the sideboard.

After our fellow pilgrims had gone to bed we had a chat with Therese. It transpired that due to a disability she had never been able to do the pilgrimage as such, but saw her welcome to pilgrims as her particular pilgrimage! We were both humbled by both her dedication and generosity to pilgrims on their journey.

On the Camino France

St Martin to Pommevic - a towpath walk

We walked 17.5 miles that's 28.2 km. Today we only went up 158m but went down 254 m

We had a comfortable night only disturbed by a clan of Mosquitoes determined to devour our flesh, a task they proved wonderfully adept at. We got up and went down to breakfast in the baronial dining room. A breakfast which for a change included both Orange juice and yogurt.

After she had got the children to school, Georgina joined us for a chat, telling us about the best and worst of being a Gite owner.

She told us of pilgrims with donkeys who she has seized because they were not properly looked after. This reminded me of a story from my dad, of pilgrims he met elsewhere in France who didn't even have a bucket for their beast. Dad had to lend them one, and show them how to use it!

We then got onto the subject of Pilgrims helping themselves to farmers crops. Apparently it is such a problem in that area, that the farmers resort to spraying the crop with a chalk mixture to make the crop unappetising to passing pilgrim scrumpers.

After putting the world to rights, reluctantly we took our leave of St Martin, and headed down the road towards Moissac where we intended to have lunch and visit the magnificent Cathedral and cloister.


The path was quite good and we made good time. We just stopped for morning prayer, (the Church we stopped at was locked, so we sat on a bench outside). Well before lunch we arrived and looked round the sights. We then found a restaurant where we had lunch before continuing to our night halt at Pommvic.

The afternoon walk was a total change from all we had done before. The book said we had a choice either do the usual up and down, or take a trip down the canal towpath instead.

We chose the towpath. It was long and straight and free from cars the only hazard being cyclists going at full tilt. For a change we decided to walk in our crocs instead of our boots, which made a refreshing change.


As we were changing footwear two boats full of New Zealanders came past shouting that boating was better than walking. On this occasion we had to disagree.

The canal stretched on and we passed three locks which with all French ingenuity are totally automated. Our towpath idyll had to end and at Pommivic where we crossed the canal and went into the village to find our hotel for the night. We availed ourselves of the free Wi-fi to catch up on E-mail, update the iPod, and post our blogs.

On the Camino in France

We stay with Mme. Sykes - Montcuq to St Martin

When we saw the name in the guide book, how could we not book a night here! We had seen the name a few days ago and as we are pushing to get go Condom to pick up the iPod we thought we would get a few miles under our belts and come and stay - before I tell you about our stay let me talk about the rest of today.

We got up just before 7 and started to get our gear together before breakfast. After breakfast we hit the road, the sun was just peaking out from the clouds and so we set out. First we detoured into Montcuq to get bread and bumped into Terry (a French all the way pilgrim) who we had last seen in Espallion. It was great seeing an old face again after so many days.

Reunions over we set off, the book had suggested to me that we would have a gentle day, as there were no spot heights for any of the towns and villages we passed through. How wrong could I be, our morning was a series of long steep up hill climbs being followed by steep and sharp downhill sections.

The scenery was changing again with orchards of apples and plums (which some of our fellow pilgrims were going into the orchard and helping themselves to - we were not impressed.) Large fields were emerging and sunflowers were being grown in vast numbers. As well as more grapes, this time protected by plastic sheets.

Before lunch after a long climb we arrived in the beautiful hill village of Lauzerte where we stopped for orangina and saw our English and Swiss-German friends again.


Leaving town meant dropping down before rising up again steeply through the woods, arriving at a handily placed bench we stopped for our lunch, were we had fantastic views back over Lauzerete. We set off again passing an unusual and much photographed dovecote,


and then plunged down again to an old church which has recently been restored from virtual ruin.

The constant up up up then down down down continued and the distances seemed longer than stated in the book. We eventually arrived at the village of Dufort-Lacapalette our guide book said it was only 2.5 Km to St Martin, (1 km down the main road and then down a road to the right). But suddenly there were way marks pointing to the left into open country and it looked like it was going to go down steeply. I was not a happy bunny to say the least! We stopped, re-read our guide books and consulted our map. I had also seen a sign for another gite, with the word variant beside it. Terry then came along and in pidgin French/English we consulted together, at that point I decided that we would turn back and go by the road, a wise decision as it turned out. The route had been changed to pass the gite on the variant, it was all about local politics and the fact that the owner had political clout. However, if we had followed the revised route we would have added three km to our journey! Instead we arrived at our gite in St Martin a good 3/4 hours earlier than those who followed the waymarks.

At the entrance was a notice asking us to ring the bell, we did with a great reverberation, and Anthony and Sean came out to welcome us. Anthony was Mme. Sykes' French partner, while Sean was Anthony's very large Alsatian dog. We were greeted by the words "Mr and Mrs Sykes", (the first time in France our name was pronounced correctly) Anthony was absolutely tickled pink that someone with the same name as his partner would choose to stay at their gite. Soon Georgina came to join him with a refreshing glass of iced tea for each of us, and then their two little girls who wanted to see these strange people who had the same name as mummy. (if we had been there a few says before, there would have been another Mr & Mrs Sykes as Georgina's dad had been visiting.

They explained that they had put us in the house as in the Gite itself were a self catering group of six French people, and they thought we would be happier in the house with them.

Our room was full of motoring memorabilia from Anthony's days as a rally car driver in the Monte Carlo and the Paris-Dacca rallies.

For our meal we were at first shown into the salon a room of baronial proportions before moving to the dining room where the two of us sat at a table to seat about 20. We were then fed meal of wild boar pate, chilli, cheese (including one that Lesley said was OK) followed by a pudding, washed down with lots of red wine. Over cheese Anthony joined us to chat and after the girls had gone to bed Georgina joined us for a chat as well. We eventually went to bed at 10 after a great evening.

On the Camino in France

Cahors to Montcuq

We walked 34 km that's 21.5 miles we also went up 552 m and down 404 m

We left Cahors in damp and overcast conditions. We had hoped to stop for bread at a patisserie we had spotted last night. Unfortunately it was closed. So we plodded on hoping to find another one before we left town. But none were open! We left town by the turreted Pont Valentre, and then we went up steeply to the Croix de Magne, a iron cross over looking the town, where we could see views of where we had come from yesterday and the bridges on which we had entered and left.



Our way took us slowly up hill, passing the gite of St Martin, which had a sign saying that there were no shops in any of the forthcoming villages but said they sold bread, I popped in and was offered a coffee and bread was provided, for a donation in their donation box, an establishment very much in the spirit of the camino.

We left in good spirits on a big dipper of a road through pine forests eventually rising to a ridge which we walked along for the next couple of hours.

We were at last out of the Causse and new vistas were opening up, large rolling down land interspersed with trees and slopes of grapes for the local Cahors wine.

We decided to stop for chocolate and morning prayer and the heavens decided to open, and it chucked it down in bucket loads. We donned cagoules and carried on for the next hour when we spotted a picnic site with a shelter where we stopped for our lunch.

Before leaving we got out over trousers as well and thus suitably equipped set out again. The rain continued and continued, and we carried on, our path took us over chalk uplands, which reminded me a bit of the Somme when we where there last year. As the mud stuck to our boots making them heavier and heavier I thought about those soldiers in the constant mud of the Somme and how awful it must have been. Eventually our path took us to a road, tarmac previously hated was now looked on as a blessing, as it was mud free!!

We eventually made it to our gite in Montcuq which was a welcome sight. It was at the Gite we met our first Englishman, walking the camino. He was from Oxford, and was walking with a Swiss German who is doing the walk prior to National Service. They are walking the route in double quick time having left Le Puy six days after us!

As we were talking to them over a beer, a French lady we had met previously on the trail with her husband and a friend came in and greeted us like long lost friends. The friend had left them in Cahors as he had to go back to work in Paris, an so she and her husband sat down with us and the Englishman and Swiss German man for supper. A great conversation ensued even though two and a half of us could not speak any but our own languages.


On the Camino in France

Poudally to Cahors - Saturday 19th September

Le marquers sur la portes:- we walked 19.5 km or 12.2 miles. Over the day we went up 277 m and down 315 m.

After a wonderful meal we then spent an hour on the Internet, catching up on our mail etc. We then decided to go to bed, our roommates, a couple in their late seventies who we had seen on previous days on the camino,were up reading. (earlier in the evening when fellow guests had asked if they were touring the area they received a most short and offended answer of no we are on the Compostella!). After good nights we turned the lights of and as all was silence and dark I felt there was no need for precautions and so went to bed. at about 2:30 I was awakened by an erupting volcano, it was missure, producing the a series of crescendo snores. The ear plugs went in and I slept like a log until gone 7 am.

After breakfast we bade Poudally a fond farewell and started on our way. The weather wa a bit overcast but soon warmed up, the terrain was still the Causse and after nearly three days we were a bit fed up with and longed for a change of scenery.
About an our into the walk we came across a group of Austrians; with vehicle support whom we had met before, they had just been dropped off and were walking on the wrong side of the road to rest of us, this caused major problems with cars as they swerved to avoid the Austrians and headed straight for us, the problem was more exacerbated when we caught up with five of the six Canadian women (the sixth one having decided to travel with the baggage car on account of her bad feet).

At eleven we stopped for Chocolate and morning prayer and shortly after the heavens opened and we cowered under a tree until the worst was over, we then started walking again gradually going upward all the time and at last leaving the Causse as we emerged onto a ridge, by then the sun had come out and so we were able to shed our rain gear. We then started looking out for Cahors which was suddenly spread out before us, surrounded by the upturned U of the river Lot. Following a steep descent we entered the town crossing the Louis Philepe bridge, the first building we came to was an official welcome for pilgrims with Coffee, biscuits, pilgrim stamps and maps and information about the town, in return for our vital statistics, about where we came from, where we were going, our start and hoped for end etc.


Following the map so helpfully provided we then headed for the town's Youth Hostel, where we were staying, we were shown into a twin room; that also had its own loo, basin and bidet. (not things you would get in your average British youth hostel room!). However, because of its location etc. my hunch is that the hostel in in an old seminary; hence the posh rooms.


After showers and washing, we headed for the town, and after a walk looking at many of the fine buildings an a visit to the Cathedral for evening prayer, we stumbled upon a fantastic indoor market, were there were stalls selling proper veg with soil on it and veg of odd (non-supermarket) shapes and sizes, there were stalls selling Cheeses of all sorts of hues and colours and I would guess ripeness and smelliness! There were purveyors of fine meats both raw and cooked along with pre-made meals (French style of course) and wine including a litre bottle for 260€ I could have spent hours there and if I had had a car to bring it home, spent a fortune. It was in some ways a super Larners food hall.

Seeing all this culinary delight made us hungry and so we went looking for food, we pith agreed a break from French cuisine would be nice and so we plumped for a pizza!

If the spelling etc. is worse than usual its because I am using a French Keyboard which has all the keys in the wrong place.

From the Camino in France

Limogne-en-Query to Poudally (Mas de Vers)

Friday 18th September
Today we walked 23.7 km or 14.7 miles
The GPS says we went up 245 m and down 365m (however, the weather conditions will have affected the altimeter as it works on barometric pressure.)

When our room mates said goodnight to us at about 8 pm last night, our hearts sunk, was this going to be another of those 6:30 wake ups, or was it going to be even earlier?

I didn't have a fantastic nights sleep as I was worried about snoring so kept on waking up to make sure I wasn't! After 1 am I gave up worrying and decided to get some real sleep, regardless of the consequences. I woke up at 6 and looked at my watch, and thought I would get another half hour before the others started to get up, at 7:10 when Lesley's alarm went off and they still didn't stir I wondered are they both alive? All was revealed when they were about to go and told us they had finished their walk for this year.

Looking out of the window we saw that it had rained in the night, but now the sun was shinning brightly, just as we were about to leave the heavens opened and the rain came down in buckets. So as we only had a relatively short distance to go we decided to wait until the deluge had abated. We set out dressed in our rain gear but after we had stopped at the bakery, the sun had come out and we packed our rain gear away.

The walking was very similar to yesterday as we are still walking across the Causse, a couple of times in the morning the rain started, we got out our rain gear, and within five minutes we were sweltering and had to take them off again.

We stopped for lunch in the village of Bach but after we had finished we had to dive into the Church to avoid a three minute shower and lots of rolls of thunder. For the rest of the afternoon, we kept just in front of the storm, only donning our rain gear for the last hour.

On the way we bumped into three of the Canadians one had very painful feet and so was taking in slowly. By the time we got to Poudally the heavens had opened and the storm was raging about us with lightening as well as thunder, autumn has now come to this corner of France with a bang!

After a shower and change of clothes we felt a lot better, Poudally is an old farm that has been renovated by it hardworking young owners, who in the rooms have successfully mixed the old with the new.


We went outside to check our phone for texts to discover my iPod had safely arrived in England and had been revived from the dead, but with the loss of all my data, as it had suffered a major crash, Nick our family techno wiz, is going to reload what he can and then post it back. We therefore had to work out where we would be in a weeks time, to give it time to get here. Hopefully we will be reunited with the iPod in Condom in a weeks time.

Our hosts cooked us a lovely three course meal of soup, duck and pudding, and we and our fellow guests sat around talking over coffee (well they all talked in quick fire French and we tried to pick up as much as we could). The conversation ended with a long discussion about bed bugs, their detection and elimination, they are a particular problem on this route because of the number of pilgrims and walkers. We had already heard of one place that had been closed for 24 hours while a cleaning squad went in. Our host blamed the gites communal, as they weren't in her opinion as thorough in their cleaning as someone like her. I'm sure it psychosomatic but since the conversation I have been itching.

On the Camino in France

An easier day - Cajarc to Limogne-en-Quercy

Totals for today:- We walked 11.8 miles or 18.9 km and over the day we climbed 365 m and dropped down 350 m

After our longer walk yesterday, and also because of where the reasonable priced accommodation lies, we had decided on an easier day to Limogne-de-Query.

Last night when we went to bed at about 10 pm it was to a darkened dorm, all our French (and 1 Belgium) room mates having gone to bed about 9 pm. Again we had a bright emergency light, so out came the eye mask and earplugs.

At about 11:30 the silence was shattered by some crescendo of snoring (it starts quietly and ends in an ear splitting fanfare). After 10 minutes of gentle prodding Lesley managed to wake me up, tell me I was keeping the rest of the dorm awake, and get some sleep herself.

Our roommates got their revenge! At 6:30 an alarm on a phone went off, and for the next half hour or so all we heard was the rustle, rustle of rucksacks being packed. I pretended to be asleep so they didn't know they had won.

We got up at about 7.30, picked up the usual pain au chocolat (or as Lesley loves to call it Choc au pain - to the confusion of the assistants) for breakfast and bread for lunch, and headed for the cafe with free wi-fi access for a cup of coffee and to post yesterday's blog.

We then set off, and for once the trail was kind with the first 2 or 3 km on flat or gently rising ground, walking through fields of sweetcorn and past orchards of Walnut trees. We then gradually began to climb up onto the "causse" a limestone plateau. In fact it was the same sort of terrain that we had walked on yesterday, with the stunted oaks, beginning to show their autumn colours, but now it had a name! The sun came out and we had a great walk.


Before hitting the causse, we had stopped for a comfort break and been overtaken by a group of about 25+ Germans. Not wanting to be stuck behind them on narrow tracks, we power walked past them.

About ten minutes later we heard voices ahead and noticed bright floral hats. I said to Lesley "it's the Canadians" we had met the three Canadian women in Noailhac, and spoken to them more fully in Decazeville when we had an Orangina break. We then seen them again in Figeac when they had shouted to us from a bar. We had expected to see them yesterday but hadn't seen them.

When we saw them today they had multiplied into six as three other friends had joined them, we said we had expected to see them yesterday and they explained how they had got lost and at five pm a friendly native had called them a taxi to get them to Cajarc. We warned them about the large group following us and so they all set off again.

About an hour later we stopped for water and a break, followed closely on our heals by the Germans who we discovered had full vehicle support from a luxury coach, (surely they won't get as many years off from purgatory as us who carry everything? - that is if you believe going on pilgrimage is about gaining brownie points in heaven!) Which does seem a bit like cheating to us.

As we only had a short way to stopped for a leisurely lunch and got into Limogne at about 3:30. As the gite had a well equip ed kitchen we decided to cook and so bought supplies at the local shop and cooked pasta with pesto, finishing the evening with a game of Scrabble.

On the Camino in France

Figeac - Cajac - Wednesday 16th Sept.

Scores on the doors:- 21.6 miles or 34.8 KM we went up 553m and down 639m

Because we had a long way to go today we started out early, (this was because of a dearth of accommodation after Figeac) so we decided to grab breakfast on the way when we picked up bread for lunch. We left about 8am and the morning was cool and misty.

As usual we had to ascend out of town following a tarmac road which soon became a forest track. Out of the mist loomed a gigantic concrete cross, part of a memorial to 145 people deported from Figeac by the Germans on 12th May 1945. A very moving monument (material for a remembrance Sunday perhaps?)

We carried on up the road and perhaps half an hour later, we passed through our first taste of industrial France, walking through an industrial estate. This was soon replaced by open country. Our guide book said we would have wonderful views over the Lot valley, but all we saw was mist!


Again we were moving into different terrain, we were now in sheep and goat country, and we passed two farms selling their own goat and sheep's cheese.

By lunch we had covered over 20 km and had our lunch on the village green at Grealou.

In the afternoon the scenery had changed again we were now getting onto a Limestone plateau covered in small stunted oak trees turning brown with the Autumn. Where the trees had been cleared they were growing grapes, our first of the trip.

Soon our destination was set out before us, down at the bottom a natural bowl.


We descended down into Cajarc and found our accommodation for the night at the local Gite Communal where a bed for the night in a communal dorm cost us €8.20 each (the cheapest night of the trip so far).

As I was hanging out the washing I got into conversation with a couple from Manchester who are staying in their caravan nearby they were the first people from the UK we had spoken to in over two weeks!

We then went in search of food and discovered a free wi-fi access point outside a closed cafe, so were able to post our material so far, and will stop by in the morning to post this.

On the camino in France

Figeac - A Day of Rest.

We decided that after twelve days of walking it was time to have a complete day of rest. So we had booked for two nights here at the Hotel Toulouse, last night half board and tonight bed only.

We had hoped for a decent lie in, but hadn't counted on fellow pilgrims in other rooms starting out early with much banging of doors etc. But in fact we still probably got a good eight or nine hours sleep. After breakfast we headed into town an bought up a chemists, with various pills and potions for our ailments. We then headed for an Internet cafe. We had been given an address by tourist information and it turned out to be the local college, where anyone for a fee could access the Internet. We explained we needed to download photos so they dug out a laptop for us with the necessary slot for our camera's memory card.

Two hours later we had caught up on our E-mails, downloaded our photos and uploaded some to our blogs. So do look back at some of the older postings as they now have pictures and more will be added when wi-fi access permits.

We then went for lunch, bumping onto our two Australian friends, Lesley had an amazing salad and I went for the dish of the day, Pork with Puy Lentils. They were both superb.

Refreshed we set about sorting out the problems of yesterday. Our first port of call an opticians who fixed my glasses for free, and then a call to the GB to our family IT expert. The iPod is now winging it's way back to England to hopefully be fixed and then if successful will come back. We also sent home the first two maps of the path walked so far in a bid to reduce weight even by a little bit.

Chores out of the way we went on a walking tour of the town which cost us 20c for a leaflet, there is much to see in Figeac and we would recommend it to anyone.

My problems of yesterday were put firmly in perspective when we went for a beer in one of the many cafes. At the table next to us were the lady I had sat next to at dinner in Conques and the friend she was walking with, who was on crutches, and in a lot of pain with what looked like a very nasty sprained ankle.

For that lady her Camino was over but her friend was planing to carry on by herself.

This evening we a very pleasant meal in a bar, before packing for a quick getaway tomorrow.

From on the Camino in France

Livinhac-le-Haut - Figeac - good walking:- other things went wrong!

Distance covered 28.2 KM or 17.5 miles - ascent of 590 m and descents of 546 m.

The day started with the local Church bell tolling the hour of seven, five minutes later seven bongs chimed again. This is a feature of this whole region of France that the church bells always ring twice, once on the hour and then at about 5 minutes later, which is a very good feature for those with short memories as we get a second stab at knowing what time it is.

We set out and as usual picked up our lunch and again, as usual, left town via a climb up a hill to the lovely village of Montredon, which marked our transition into the Department of Lot and the Diocese of Cahors. At the church of Saint-Michael under a large welcome notice, was a room where we could rest with juice, tea, coffee and a kettle and cakes to help refresh us, and our fellow pilgrims, on our way. They had also left the Church stamp out for us (attached to the wall by a chain), so that we could add their stamp to our collection in our Pilgrim Passports.

We moved on visiting the chapelle de Guirande some 3 km later, which had some 14th century wall paintings.


We carried on up a hill past an old aerodrome when my left calf went funny, the muscles all went stiff and quite painful. We stopped hoping it would pass, and I rubbed Tiger Balm into it. It died down a bit but was with me for the rest of the day.

We passed through a number of villages and hamlets, as usual passing querky French street art, this time a giant bicycle,


and past a gite with a board all about being a pilgrim.


We were expecting a long walk into into Figeac as the book said that after a certain cross roads, it was 9.5km. However, after a long gentle decent of about 2km, we were in the outskirts,and before we knew it, we were at the river and following the signs for the tourist information centre. At the centre Bernard, a very helpful man, booked our hotel for the next two nights, and gave us a map and told us where to find a cyber cafe. Oppersite the tourist information we also found a laundrette which we visited later.

We got to our hotel and, as you know, I discovered my iPod had died. We then went into town to do the laundry which was slightly confusing as everything was operate by a central control panel, but after some very patient help from the lady in the laundrette, we got the laundry done.

We returned to the hotel for our food and headed back to town to send my post on Lesley's iPod, as we had found a hotspot near the laundrette. By that time I had removed my contact lenses and put on my glasses. To read the ipod screen, I had It's taken them off and carefully placed them on the wall. Whilst showing Lesley an e-mail, I sat down straight onto the glasses bending both arms!

At that point I decided that I better go to bed before further disasters befell me.

On the Camino

Why I hate technology!

I am writing this post on Lesley's iPod as mine seems to have crashed! When we got in tonight I recorded the vital statistics for the day in the usual way. About half an hour later when I switched my iPod back on all I got was a picture of a USB cable and the iTunes symbol, and I just can't get away from them.


To add insult to injury at 7 pm it reminded me of a meeting taking place back home, so my data is still all there but I can't get to it. If any of you iPod experts out there can suggest anything let me know. When I am in a better frame of mind (perhaps after a few glasses of red wine). I will write up today's post and try and recreate yesterday's.

A short day to Conques from Senergues

Rough scores on doors:- 9.5 km or 5.9 miles. We went up 31m and down 276 m hitting a high point of 610 m (N.B. These are only rough figures as I forgot to turn the GPS on for the first hour).

After a very comfortable night we set off, again the walk started uphill, but soon it levelled out, the sweetcorn harvest was in full swing, for the second time just for a moment we thought we were in India or perhaps Nepal as we came face to face with a herd of buffalo in a field, obviously kept for their milk for cheese.


We stopped in a wayside church for morning prayer and then started on a steep downhill path to Conques, dropping a couple of hundred metres in about 1km.


We had arrived, we then headed to the Abbey to see if they had a room no rooms were available but we managed to reserve two beds in one of the dormitories but had to report back at 2 to pay and get checked in.


So after a short walk around town where we bumped into a number of old friends from the trip so far and caught up on their news and where they were going next. We had lunch and them reported in. After showers and a change of clothing we went and explored the town had a beer, at 6:30 we attended vespers in the Abbey lead by the three monks who make up the community, (We also discovered that the reason we did not see any nuns at St Come d'Alt was because only one is in her 50's and the rest are over 80, which is all very sad).



Despite the small numbers of monks the service was still very moving, we then went to dinner in the refectory where I had a great conversation with a lady from Britainy who spoke excellent English, and was planing to walk to Ronsavalles in Spain this year and then walk the Spanish leg next year.

Dinner was followed by Compline where all the pilgrims leaving Conques tomorrow were blessed, and we were given a copy of St John's Gospel and an illuminated pilgrims chant, which we had sung before our dinner in the refectory.

The words to it are Ultreia! Ultreia! Et sus eia! Deus adjuva nos!

If any or our readers can provide a translation please do.

Following on from the blessing there was supposed to be an organ recital at 9pm. We sat in the cathedral waiting for it to start and at 9:30 had just about given up hope, when the door of the cathedral opened and we heard a round of applause, and one of the monks walked in followed by a huge crowd.

This was because so many of us were setting off tomorrow, the monks decided to put on a Mass this evening, which delayed the recital. Because their main Sunday Mass is at 11am which is far to late for most pilgrims to go to, as we need to be on the road by 9 - 9:30 at the latest to get a reasonable distance under our belts, as unlike our Medieval predecessors we have deadlines of parishes and jobs to get back to.

And so at 9:40 the recital began, at 10 we decided we had to go as we were both getting tired and we were told they shut the doors early and we didn't want be locked out.

We are in a dorm of 11 beds it about 10:40 and near by is a snorer, I just hope the ear plugs cut him out, night and God Bless.

On the Camino in France