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
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