I have said it before: into every life a little rain must fall, and today was the day. So there will be no sunny photos to accompany this posting. I tell it like it was.
I lift the gite at 08:00 after a good breakfast, and was soon heading up the hill with dozens of other walkers/ it is a long slog up to Montredon, but the cold and the chill wind seemed to make me go faster. Along the way, I noticed a wayside cross that was there to tell me I was at the borders of three Departments: Aveyron (which had come from), Lot (which I was going to), and Cantal. The cross is a modern one, placed there in the last few years to replace a much older one that was destroyed. Bouyed up with the prospect of a new Department, I pushed on and reached Montredon soon after..
In Montredon, there is a church, but for most churches at this point, my memories blend. There was nothing special to this one, but it did offer a stamp in the Creantiale. And it was not long afterwards that the damp weather reached a point where I had to put on the raingear. It remained on for the rest of the day.
Now for a note about waymarking. It seems to vary from Department to Department. In Haute Loire, there were regular signposts telling the distance to the next significant location. They were helpful, though sometimes discouraging. When your dead reckoning tells you that you have done a certain amount and it should only be 10km to the finishing point for the day, it is no joy to reach a signpost that tells you it is in fact 11km or 12km to go. But overall, they were helpful. In Lozere, the signposts were no more, but the red and while waymarks were abundant. Similarly, in Azeyron, you could get lost by losing the waymarkers, but it was easier to follow the trail. But in Lot it was different. Signposts were few and far between. And at times the waymarkers seemed missing. I lost the way twice not long after Montredon, but on each occasion I found it again without too much bother.
And so I came to the Chapelle de Guidande. This is a 14th century chapel with murals around the altar depicting the four gospel writers.
And then it was on again, eventually coming to St. Felix, and the first place to have somewhere open that was serving refreshments. On warm days this might be beers, but today it was soup, a large crock of soup shared between four walkers.
A little while after St. Felix, I came across an interesting stone set into the wall as a passed. The words are in French, but the theme is universal. It goes something like this:
“Pilgrim, where are you from and why are you doing this journey with all your baggage?
Mybe you don’t know what guides you on the journey. Maybe you are not even a Christian.
There are more than 1000 years of this journey and you are following others who did it before you.
You cross regions, through towns and villages whose stones tell the history of the pilgrimage.
You cross the rivers, the mountains, the Pyrenees, once the frontier.
Then you will be in Spain, like Charlemagne once was. He is long gone.
You will meet the Basques, drink Rioja, and go through Castille to Galicia.
And then, after you reach the cathedral of the apostle, you will never forget the route that you went.”
There was no stopping after that. I walked straight through all the way from St. Felix to Figeac. By some amazing foresight for which I claim no credit, I had managed to book accommodation just at the entrance to the city, so I did not have to bring my gear through the city itself. I went into Figeac later, and while I am sure that it is an interesting city, the narrow streets in the dull of a wet evening seems to give it a dismal air.
I had dinner and now I am ready to sleep before another long day tomorrow. And the step count today was 39758
Walkingman 