day 07 – draft
Tuesday, 12 April 2016
Golinhac to Conques
25 km today - 206 km to date
Up about 5h30, pack and off to the social place for the whole camping complex. A single breakfast place has been set. I watch the sky lighten as I work through this meal. The previous night I had found a recent popular history of the village which supported a parish and a public school. These, plus an open church, I encounter just beyond the camping complex.
Usual missing of way points on leaving.
I quickly tire of the mushy “official” track and take to the road (D42), through Esperac (church open but not much else at 10 am), Senergues (another open church) and Saint -Marcel (third open church in a row). Then down another stoney steep track to Conques.
Conques, wow! It is just like stepping back 400 years in building history. The purpose of the village is to support the Abbey containing an alleged relic of Sainte Foy (Faith), a young girl from Asia Minor (modern day Turkey) martyred for her faith around 1,600 years ago. I have my first restaurant meal (pilgrim's menu based on simpler items from the a l'carte menu) and attend Compline and pilgrim blessing in the Abbey church. Staying in the communal gite.
And so to bed.
27 April 2016
day 06 - draft
Monday, 11 April 2016
Sainte-Come-d'Olt to Golinhac
33 km today 181 km to date
Breakfast early and most of the six from Nice are soon there. We say our good byes and I am off. I Ihave decided to avoid mud and stones and will, whenever possible, use roads. Espalion is my first stop after an hour as I must find a toilet. And I do, although I rather wish I hadn't found the one I do: it is old and only has squat facilities.
Moving on I encounter the land mark church that features as a postcard stop, except it is closed. Continuing along there is now a hill to climb. It is not a particularly high hill but they have made it interesting. A significant part of the climb is up a the face of asmooth rock face with nice high steps, no hand holds and the mandatory water features. A pleasant walk along the ridge of the hill follows and I see my first farmer in action using a tractor to pull a frame across a small field. Then down the other side of the hill through a pleasant pathe that soon becomes a bog standard quagmire.
To another locked church alongside the best toilet ever to date
At the approach to the next village I miss a way marker and go around to the east (as I find out later) and not the west and get very confused about how to go on to Estaing, not being helped by the distance on the road signs being very different from those in my Michelin guidebook. The situation is not helped by the pathway signs being in both directions Twenty or something minutes later I'm sorted and see a sign telling me to go up a hill. I decide to stay on the road and am rewarded about 10 minutes later showing where I would have come okff the hill.
By now the rain has begun to establish itself and I put on the poncho I in a pouch across my chest without having to stop.
Estaing is an imposing town of about 1,000 people. Imposing as it is built around rock on which stands a manorial residence built of stone.
After a long lunch waiting for the rain to stop it is time to move on with a long pleasant walk along side the slow moving river Lot. Then 300 metres of elevation along roads that are connected by stoney pathways.
I reach the eastern side of Golinhac where my gite is and stop. Two room mates tonight and conversation is difficult. I take a punt and wash all the clothes I have worn so far except for one top to wear to bed. I have not booked so no meal tonight.
And so to bed.
Monday, 11 April 2016
Sainte-Come-d'Olt to Golinhac
33 km today 181 km to date
Breakfast early and most of the six from Nice are soon there. We say our good byes and I am off. I Ihave decided to avoid mud and stones and will, whenever possible, use roads. Espalion is my first stop after an hour as I must find a toilet. And I do, although I rather wish I hadn't found the one I do: it is old and only has squat facilities.
Moving on I encounter the land mark church that features as a postcard stop, except it is closed. Continuing along there is now a hill to climb. It is not a particularly high hill but they have made it interesting. A significant part of the climb is up a the face of asmooth rock face with nice high steps, no hand holds and the mandatory water features. A pleasant walk along the ridge of the hill follows and I see my first farmer in action using a tractor to pull a frame across a small field. Then down the other side of the hill through a pleasant pathe that soon becomes a bog standard quagmire.
To another locked church alongside the best toilet ever to date
At the approach to the next village I miss a way marker and go around to the east (as I find out later) and not the west and get very confused about how to go on to Estaing, not being helped by the distance on the road signs being very different from those in my Michelin guidebook. The situation is not helped by the pathway signs being in both directions Twenty or something minutes later I'm sorted and see a sign telling me to go up a hill. I decide to stay on the road and am rewarded about 10 minutes later showing where I would have come okff the hill.
By now the rain has begun to establish itself and I put on the poncho I in a pouch across my chest without having to stop.
Estaing is an imposing town of about 1,000 people. Imposing as it is built around rock on which stands a manorial residence built of stone.
After a long lunch waiting for the rain to stop it is time to move on with a long pleasant walk along side the slow moving river Lot. Then 300 metres of elevation along roads that are connected by stoney pathways.
I reach the eastern side of Golinhac where my gite is and stop. Two room mates tonight and conversation is difficult. I take a punt and wash all the clothes I have worn so far except for one top to wear to bed. I have not booked so no meal tonight.
And so to bed.
26 April 2016
day 05 - draft
Sunday, 10 April 2016 (draft)
Nasbinals to Sainte-Come-d'Olt
33 km today 149 km to date
Breakfast early and on the road before 7h30. At first I am in open fields doing a cross country walk. I don't realize it at the time but I am getting to the highest point in France at over 1,200 metres above sea level. And am now walking between the pockets of snow I had seen on the tops the day before. So it is also cold.
As I start the descent I am passed by a young woman who was in the gite last night. From here the descent is down many rock strewn stream beds interspersed with walking on roads and along muddy pathways.
About halfway down stop for a coffee noir at what is a bar at Saint-Chely Aubrac. The route has more descents down stream beds and through a forest. At the bottom meet a German man and his grandson - we exchange ages and I “beat” him by three years.
The last five kilometres into Sainte-Come is through pleasant country, but I can't pick what the agriculture is.
The first gite I encounter also has hotel rooms. We are 20 plus for dinner even though only three of us are in the dormitory.
At my table is a group of six from Nice who just arrived that afternoon. They invite me to join them fo pre-dinner drinks as one (a teacher at the international school in Monaco) speaks good English and two others have passable understanding. After the meal one of them sings to a guitar and I access E Pari Ra on my tablet and do my best to sing along.
And so to bed.
Sunday, 10 April 2016 (draft)
Nasbinals to Sainte-Come-d'Olt
33 km today 149 km to date
Breakfast early and on the road before 7h30. At first I am in open fields doing a cross country walk. I don't realize it at the time but I am getting to the highest point in France at over 1,200 metres above sea level. And am now walking between the pockets of snow I had seen on the tops the day before. So it is also cold.
As I start the descent I am passed by a young woman who was in the gite last night. From here the descent is down many rock strewn stream beds interspersed with walking on roads and along muddy pathways.
About halfway down stop for a coffee noir at what is a bar at Saint-Chely Aubrac. The route has more descents down stream beds and through a forest. At the bottom meet a German man and his grandson - we exchange ages and I “beat” him by three years.
The last five kilometres into Sainte-Come is through pleasant country, but I can't pick what the agriculture is.
The first gite I encounter also has hotel rooms. We are 20 plus for dinner even though only three of us are in the dormitory.
At my table is a group of six from Nice who just arrived that afternoon. They invite me to join them fo pre-dinner drinks as one (a teacher at the international school in Monaco) speaks good English and two others have passable understanding. After the meal one of them sings to a guitar and I access E Pari Ra on my tablet and do my best to sing along.
And so to bed.
day 04 - draft
Saturday, 9 April 2016
Aumont-Aubrac to Nasbinals
026 km today - 116 km to date
First at breakfast at 7 am and leave at 7:40. When I can't pick up the white and red route markers I use the position of the sun to tell me where east. But my ready reckoning is for the southern hemisphere where the sun is north, so my chosen direction is way off and I head off down the wrong road. While the markings are good, when there is only one apparent road they can be well spaced out. About an hour later everything is sorted and I resolve to get a lightweight guide to go in the pouch on my chest.
At the first village the church is open and about a kilometre on the chapel in the centre of a cross roads is also open. Some cares for this place as the Missal is open at the Evangile (Gospel) reading for today.
When navigating some particularly difficult terrain (water logged from side to side) I noticed two people about 300 metres behind and a group of three or four a greater distance ahead.
After 15 km the group ahead stops for a rest: three of them had been at my gite last night. I persevere for one km more where I encounter a snack bar and decide to stop for my porridge and buy a sandwich and coffee. So begins a game of leap frog.
About an hour on the group of three have stopped again and the fourth is stopped a little further on. As I can't see any route markers and there are two ways ahead I ask if she can help. She can: she has a lightweight Michelin guide for the way from Le Puy to the Spanish border.
I arrive at my intended destination for today, Nasbinals, about 3 pm. The neat and tidy ancient church in the middle of the town is open and then on to find the gite. This one is relatively new and owned and operated by the local community. I register by writing my name on the list of beds in one of the dortoir (dormitories), go and get some food for dinner and for lunch on Sunday. And a Michelin Guide of my own! Dinner is an impromptu collective affair and much fun. The woman who had given me directions tells me about her trip to Iona and I tell her about the Norwegian kings buried there ( a renowned holy place in its time) more than a millennia ago. When she is certain she has understood she passes this on to the company.
What makes me seem to stand out is not just my apparent level of fitness for my apparent age but also the “kilt” I am wearing.
And so to bed.
Saturday, 9 April 2016
Aumont-Aubrac to Nasbinals
026 km today - 116 km to date
First at breakfast at 7 am and leave at 7:40. When I can't pick up the white and red route markers I use the position of the sun to tell me where east. But my ready reckoning is for the southern hemisphere where the sun is north, so my chosen direction is way off and I head off down the wrong road. While the markings are good, when there is only one apparent road they can be well spaced out. About an hour later everything is sorted and I resolve to get a lightweight guide to go in the pouch on my chest.
At the first village the church is open and about a kilometre on the chapel in the centre of a cross roads is also open. Some cares for this place as the Missal is open at the Evangile (Gospel) reading for today.
When navigating some particularly difficult terrain (water logged from side to side) I noticed two people about 300 metres behind and a group of three or four a greater distance ahead.
After 15 km the group ahead stops for a rest: three of them had been at my gite last night. I persevere for one km more where I encounter a snack bar and decide to stop for my porridge and buy a sandwich and coffee. So begins a game of leap frog.
About an hour on the group of three have stopped again and the fourth is stopped a little further on. As I can't see any route markers and there are two ways ahead I ask if she can help. She can: she has a lightweight Michelin guide for the way from Le Puy to the Spanish border.
I arrive at my intended destination for today, Nasbinals, about 3 pm. The neat and tidy ancient church in the middle of the town is open and then on to find the gite. This one is relatively new and owned and operated by the local community. I register by writing my name on the list of beds in one of the dortoir (dormitories), go and get some food for dinner and for lunch on Sunday. And a Michelin Guide of my own! Dinner is an impromptu collective affair and much fun. The woman who had given me directions tells me about her trip to Iona and I tell her about the Norwegian kings buried there ( a renowned holy place in its time) more than a millennia ago. When she is certain she has understood she passes this on to the company.
What makes me seem to stand out is not just my apparent level of fitness for my apparent age but also the “kilt” I am wearing.
And so to bed.
day 03 - draft
Friday 8 April 2016
Le Falzet to Aumont-Aubrac
037 km today - 090 km to date
Breakfast at 7 am as requested and am joined by Martina, who gives me a cuddle as I leave about 7h30.
This is to be a big day: 37 km. My first stop is after 2 hours for coffee at a brand new backpackers in the middle of nowhere: very luxurious. The countryside is much the same as the first three days, only the ups and downs are more gentle.
I was looking forward to a stop at Saint-Alban-sur-Limangole. Everything but the marvellous ancient church and a bar are closed. It is nearly 1 pm and a solitary local says to come back after 2.
As I enter my intended destination, Aumont-Aubrac, I note a walker a few hundred metres ahead. A total of four people encountered today.
I stop at the first gite (backpackers) I encounter: an entertaining dinner from mine host and much chat: the neighbour to my left has some English and translates for me from time to time.
And so to bed.
Friday 8 April 2016
Le Falzet to Aumont-Aubrac
037 km today - 090 km to date
Breakfast at 7 am as requested and am joined by Martina, who gives me a cuddle as I leave about 7h30.
This is to be a big day: 37 km. My first stop is after 2 hours for coffee at a brand new backpackers in the middle of nowhere: very luxurious. The countryside is much the same as the first three days, only the ups and downs are more gentle.
I was looking forward to a stop at Saint-Alban-sur-Limangole. Everything but the marvellous ancient church and a bar are closed. It is nearly 1 pm and a solitary local says to come back after 2.
As I enter my intended destination, Aumont-Aubrac, I note a walker a few hundred metres ahead. A total of four people encountered today.
I stop at the first gite (backpackers) I encounter: an entertaining dinner from mine host and much chat: the neighbour to my left has some English and translates for me from time to time.
And so to bed.
day 02 - draft
Thursday, 7 April 2016
Saint-Privat d'Allier to Le Falzet
030 km today - 052 km to date
Left Saint-Privat at 08h to Rochegude and an open chapel where I leave a prayer request. On leaving Rochegude, we are directed straight down a rocky path festooned with tree roots: anyone coming down on Wednesday when the ground would have been still sodden or on Tuesday with persistent rain would have had their work cut out to stay safe. My hostess of Tuesday had told me no money machines until Saugeso so no stopping at Monistroll dAllier, a large village with a main line railway station. Here I was at 600 metres (1,900 feet) above sea level and within 40 minutes I was over 1,000 m (3,400 ft) asl. More gentle climbing followed till the village of Rognac where I stopped for a rest and lunch. During my 10 minutes stop Vanessa (London), Lynda (Brighton) and Paul (London) stopped for a chat and carried on.
On leaving Rognac I passed my first small cluster of cattle beasts at close quarters and soon after caught up with the London trio and all four of us entered the largish town of Sauges together. I found a money machine and traced back to the church only to encounter the London trio having their pilgrim credentials stamped. The small lady on duty was an entertainment and, on learning I was from New Zealand showed me a photo of a NZ couple and a photo book from which I selected some to show of the country to the assembly.
Shortly after leaving Sauges I caught up with another Swiss woman, this time from the German sector near Zurich. We fell into step for about 5 km., chatting some of the time or (I hope) in companionable silence. I stopped for a rest at the village before my intended stop point as my right little toe was playing up.
I was the first to my gite but four more arrived in quick succession: Martina from Rouen, Henrif from Lille and two 18 year olds, Emma and Carolina from Bonn (?) on the Rhine, who had just finished school and were having a gap year.
And so to bed.
Thursday, 7 April 2016
Saint-Privat d'Allier to Le Falzet
030 km today - 052 km to date
Left Saint-Privat at 08h to Rochegude and an open chapel where I leave a prayer request. On leaving Rochegude, we are directed straight down a rocky path festooned with tree roots: anyone coming down on Wednesday when the ground would have been still sodden or on Tuesday with persistent rain would have had their work cut out to stay safe. My hostess of Tuesday had told me no money machines until Saugeso so no stopping at Monistroll dAllier, a large village with a main line railway station. Here I was at 600 metres (1,900 feet) above sea level and within 40 minutes I was over 1,000 m (3,400 ft) asl. More gentle climbing followed till the village of Rognac where I stopped for a rest and lunch. During my 10 minutes stop Vanessa (London), Lynda (Brighton) and Paul (London) stopped for a chat and carried on.
On leaving Rognac I passed my first small cluster of cattle beasts at close quarters and soon after caught up with the London trio and all four of us entered the largish town of Sauges together. I found a money machine and traced back to the church only to encounter the London trio having their pilgrim credentials stamped. The small lady on duty was an entertainment and, on learning I was from New Zealand showed me a photo of a NZ couple and a photo book from which I selected some to show of the country to the assembly.
Shortly after leaving Sauges I caught up with another Swiss woman, this time from the German sector near Zurich. We fell into step for about 5 km., chatting some of the time or (I hope) in companionable silence. I stopped for a rest at the village before my intended stop point as my right little toe was playing up.
I was the first to my gite but four more arrived in quick succession: Martina from Rouen, Henrif from Lille and two 18 year olds, Emma and Carolina from Bonn (?) on the Rhine, who had just finished school and were having a gap year.
And so to bed.
day 01 - draft
Wednesday, 6 April 2016
Le Puy-en-Velay to Saint-Privat-d'Allier
022 km today - 022 km to date
After waking (again) at 01h I go back to sleep and wake again at 03h. As I must definitely want to be awake at 06h I get up, dress for the day, pack, go down to the dining room at 05h30 and gorge myself on bread, and hot and cold drinks.
The two pilgrims from last night’s dinner join me: they are bound for Sauges today, some 40 kilometres along the Chemin, walking.
In the Cathedral we prepare for Mass: for me this means opening an app on my tablet with the full text for the day, including collect, psalm and readings. Mass ends and the celebrant, and ebullient bishop, invites us to join him in a tight semi-circle around a column bearing a wooden statue of a pilgrim of old. We number about 60, but I notice not many seem ready for an immediate start. After a chat, a blessing, a cockle shell medallion we are invited to have our credentials (pilgrims passport) stamped.
While all of this was happening, the Cathedral staff had lifted the grating in the central aisle to reveal stairs leading down to the west door some 5 or so metres below this level. I go towards the steps, turn to reverence the altar and sacrament beyond and turn again to descend and leave the Cathedral and begin my pilgrimage.
Except I can’t move: I am rooted to the spot by emotion. I am here only because Cathy has died. And a second thought occurs: despite the four years of training and planning, will I be up to completing the task ahead, of moving forward.
Having composed myself at last I step forward, out of the nurturing warmth of the Cathedral of Le Puy-en-Velay.
Way finding through the cobbled streets is a breeze, thanks to yesterday’s exercise. The weather is good: overcast and no wind. At the top of the first hill I can see two ahead of me. Shortly after a 30 something electronics engineer (Florian) joins me but I am slower than his pace and I soon see him pass an older male about 50 metres ahead. By 5 kilometres from Le Puy I am on my own. The terrain is “interesting”: rocky uneven with lots of water from yesterday’s continuous rain. Then some sealed roads followed by a walkway between fields, or rather a series of streams over almost a kilometre: great fun and I wonder if I will need to turn my drinking tube into a breathing tube. From Le Puy there have been many green fields, but only once do I see some animals, about 10 white Charolais (or Limousin, or whatever): most curious.
At about 14 km I encounter my first open church on my way: the chapel of Saint Roch, more well known in this part of France than the Hispanic Saint James. I light some candles and coming out meet, again, Eloyssia. She had left Le Puy late morning Tuesday and travelled about 12 km before stopping for the night, deliberately making a slow start. She had seen only three walkers. We walked together to our common destination of Saint Privat-d’Allier. Stopping for lunch three other walkers passed us.
At Saint Privat I went to the first gite to meet an English speaking hostess and her husband: despite it being around 15h I was the first in to this gite. But it wasn’t long before all 11 beds were taken. Dinner was fun with 7 walkers, a couple from Denmark and a French couple with their two boys.
And so to bed.
Wednesday, 6 April 2016
Le Puy-en-Velay to Saint-Privat-d'Allier
022 km today - 022 km to date
After waking (again) at 01h I go back to sleep and wake again at 03h. As I must definitely want to be awake at 06h I get up, dress for the day, pack, go down to the dining room at 05h30 and gorge myself on bread, and hot and cold drinks.
The two pilgrims from last night’s dinner join me: they are bound for Sauges today, some 40 kilometres along the Chemin, walking.
In the Cathedral we prepare for Mass: for me this means opening an app on my tablet with the full text for the day, including collect, psalm and readings. Mass ends and the celebrant, and ebullient bishop, invites us to join him in a tight semi-circle around a column bearing a wooden statue of a pilgrim of old. We number about 60, but I notice not many seem ready for an immediate start. After a chat, a blessing, a cockle shell medallion we are invited to have our credentials (pilgrims passport) stamped.
While all of this was happening, the Cathedral staff had lifted the grating in the central aisle to reveal stairs leading down to the west door some 5 or so metres below this level. I go towards the steps, turn to reverence the altar and sacrament beyond and turn again to descend and leave the Cathedral and begin my pilgrimage.
Except I can’t move: I am rooted to the spot by emotion. I am here only because Cathy has died. And a second thought occurs: despite the four years of training and planning, will I be up to completing the task ahead, of moving forward.
Having composed myself at last I step forward, out of the nurturing warmth of the Cathedral of Le Puy-en-Velay.
Way finding through the cobbled streets is a breeze, thanks to yesterday’s exercise. The weather is good: overcast and no wind. At the top of the first hill I can see two ahead of me. Shortly after a 30 something electronics engineer (Florian) joins me but I am slower than his pace and I soon see him pass an older male about 50 metres ahead. By 5 kilometres from Le Puy I am on my own. The terrain is “interesting”: rocky uneven with lots of water from yesterday’s continuous rain. Then some sealed roads followed by a walkway between fields, or rather a series of streams over almost a kilometre: great fun and I wonder if I will need to turn my drinking tube into a breathing tube. From Le Puy there have been many green fields, but only once do I see some animals, about 10 white Charolais (or Limousin, or whatever): most curious.
At about 14 km I encounter my first open church on my way: the chapel of Saint Roch, more well known in this part of France than the Hispanic Saint James. I light some candles and coming out meet, again, Eloyssia. She had left Le Puy late morning Tuesday and travelled about 12 km before stopping for the night, deliberately making a slow start. She had seen only three walkers. We walked together to our common destination of Saint Privat-d’Allier. Stopping for lunch three other walkers passed us.
At Saint Privat I went to the first gite to meet an English speaking hostess and her husband: despite it being around 15h I was the first in to this gite. But it wasn’t long before all 11 beds were taken. Dinner was fun with 7 walkers, a couple from Denmark and a French couple with their two boys.
And so to bed.
Tuesday, 4 April
The train from Lyon to Le Puy on Monday was a joy, as far as train travel goes: quite new and clean and comfortable: diesel engines and quiet with a very smooth ride, especially over the many points. And the countryside was “busy” for the first hour with many villages and smaller settlements ending at Saint Etienne. Then into the Loire valley : yes, the same Loire that enters the Atlantic near Brittany I don’t know how many hundreds of kilometres away. So we are clear, this is called Haute Loire. In the valley there are around 12 villages and we stop at each one. The valley is quite narrow with a lot of civil engineering to cross the rivers and streams and to prevent rocks and trees falling onto the track. It must seem barren in winter as the trees were just beginning to get a green tinge from new growth and a white blossom on shrubs.
On arrival navigation to my booked gite is straight forward: it is behind the Cathedral and this is the highest and tallest building in town, so just climb up the cobbled streets once away from the area near the station. This gite was once a seminary and has more than 100 individual rooms (or cells), and I am on the third floor with ceilings at least three metres high: looking on the bright side this can only be good exercise and a continuation of my training. Twelve pilgrims sit down for the three course evening meal is plain but filling and with simple flavour. And an ample quantity of vin ordinaire rouge. And I slept well past 7 am!!!
At breakfast there are but two of us: with a (very) little French from me, better English from him and some made up sign language we have a conversation of sorts.
My first task is to climb, with a persistent rain, for about 10 minutes to the base of a statue of Mary and the child Jesus. Not wishing to find out how rusty the railings might be preventing one from falling down to the start point, if not further, I venture inside the stone base and climb up to the start of the statue only to find a circular stairway. At each of three landings there are open shutters and grand vantage points for photographs.
Down to and through the cathedral (built between 10th and 12th centuries in an apparently continuous simple style) to find the normal weekday Mass about to start. Even though a week day, Mass is not Mass without music and a Sister provides, wonderfully, by voice alone. I wish the larger churches in my home town could have the canon sung by the people on weekdays.
My second task is to find my way out of town towards my first stopping point. I do an amazing job (or so I think) of following the markers: firstly the bronze cockle shells set into the footpath and later the white bar over a red bar that is the blaze mark for the chemin de Saint-Jacques details Compostelle. But after nearly 2 km they peter out on a road with no side roads. Thankfully for the well used offline mapping system on my tablet I find I am not on the recognised route but also that it is only about 500 metres ahead. On gaining the way I encounter a woman (from French speaking southern Switzerland) whose intention is for a relatively short and slow first day. In the chat we find we are both focused on (Santiago de) Compostelle, but “not today”. I return the way I should have come and find the error of my way finding.
Six pelerin for dinner: three bound for Compostelle and three from Nice: they had left on Holy Friday on a religious exercise and begin their return on Wednesday.
And so to bed for an early night.
Except to wake about 23h: to help the return to sleep I write this blog. It is now 01h and I want to be up about 05h to finish packing, have breakfast, go to the pilgrims Mass at 01h and begin the big adventure.
The train from Lyon to Le Puy on Monday was a joy, as far as train travel goes: quite new and clean and comfortable: diesel engines and quiet with a very smooth ride, especially over the many points. And the countryside was “busy” for the first hour with many villages and smaller settlements ending at Saint Etienne. Then into the Loire valley : yes, the same Loire that enters the Atlantic near Brittany I don’t know how many hundreds of kilometres away. So we are clear, this is called Haute Loire. In the valley there are around 12 villages and we stop at each one. The valley is quite narrow with a lot of civil engineering to cross the rivers and streams and to prevent rocks and trees falling onto the track. It must seem barren in winter as the trees were just beginning to get a green tinge from new growth and a white blossom on shrubs.
On arrival navigation to my booked gite is straight forward: it is behind the Cathedral and this is the highest and tallest building in town, so just climb up the cobbled streets once away from the area near the station. This gite was once a seminary and has more than 100 individual rooms (or cells), and I am on the third floor with ceilings at least three metres high: looking on the bright side this can only be good exercise and a continuation of my training. Twelve pilgrims sit down for the three course evening meal is plain but filling and with simple flavour. And an ample quantity of vin ordinaire rouge. And I slept well past 7 am!!!
At breakfast there are but two of us: with a (very) little French from me, better English from him and some made up sign language we have a conversation of sorts.
My first task is to climb, with a persistent rain, for about 10 minutes to the base of a statue of Mary and the child Jesus. Not wishing to find out how rusty the railings might be preventing one from falling down to the start point, if not further, I venture inside the stone base and climb up to the start of the statue only to find a circular stairway. At each of three landings there are open shutters and grand vantage points for photographs.
Down to and through the cathedral (built between 10th and 12th centuries in an apparently continuous simple style) to find the normal weekday Mass about to start. Even though a week day, Mass is not Mass without music and a Sister provides, wonderfully, by voice alone. I wish the larger churches in my home town could have the canon sung by the people on weekdays.
My second task is to find my way out of town towards my first stopping point. I do an amazing job (or so I think) of following the markers: firstly the bronze cockle shells set into the footpath and later the white bar over a red bar that is the blaze mark for the chemin de Saint-Jacques details Compostelle. But after nearly 2 km they peter out on a road with no side roads. Thankfully for the well used offline mapping system on my tablet I find I am not on the recognised route but also that it is only about 500 metres ahead. On gaining the way I encounter a woman (from French speaking southern Switzerland) whose intention is for a relatively short and slow first day. In the chat we find we are both focused on (Santiago de) Compostelle, but “not today”. I return the way I should have come and find the error of my way finding.
Six pelerin for dinner: three bound for Compostelle and three from Nice: they had left on Holy Friday on a religious exercise and begin their return on Wednesday.
And so to bed for an early night.
Except to wake about 23h: to help the return to sleep I write this blog. It is now 01h and I want to be up about 05h to finish packing, have breakfast, go to the pilgrims Mass at 01h and begin the big adventure.
04 April 2016
Tuesday, 29 March
Underway at last. Two neighbours gave me a ride from the village to the long distance bus stop in central Porirua to start my odyssey. By early afternoon I’m in Napier Cathedral meeting a friend from our first year at college. And my supporter (best man) at both my weddings. We have a grand catch up bringing one another up to date on family and medical histories, with a pub dinner added.
On Wednesday to a backpackers in downtown Auckland just off Queen Street. Sitting outside having a kebab when a roommate stops for a chat: she’s spending quality time with her 103 year old grandmother and wondering what life holds for her. We chat again briefly and in depth before we go our separate ways on Friday morning. In between I visit two cousins I haven’t seen for more than 30 years at least and we chat about family trees with a focus on our maternal grandfather. We undertake to keep in touch,
A feature of the trip so far has been having young women as travelling companions. In addition to the woman in Auckland there was a woman from Belgium working on a farm near Hunterville as a nanny on the bus to Napier and a midwife on the train from Charles de Gaulle Airport (near Paris) to Lyon: both had good English.
Sunday in Lyon. First to Mass in the Basilica on top of cliff face overlooking Lyon. The climb does no harm (about 150 metres above the river Saone that my backpackers is alongside of). Then back down to the water (a lot easier) and past the Cathedral (both are less than 150 years old, as are most I pass this day). Skirting the river I become fascinated by entrances to the apartment buildings – they are massive – and photograph quite a number, trying to get passers-by in shot to show off the scale. At the confluence of the Saone and Rhone rivers I encounter the well named Museum of the Confluence. The use of space, both outside (striking) and in (two levels with circular passage ways with large and smaller display rooms to either side) and very popular.
Returning up the spit of land I find a second main railway station (Perrache) about 10 metres above street level and with about 10 platforms - in the 20 minutes I rest, several TGV trains arrive or depart. I seem to be in the centre between the two rivers as I pass through several squares. Then up almost continuous broad and shallow sets of steps to the top of Croix Rouge (once the epicentre of silk fabric production for France, if not much of the world). At the top turn left to come back to the Saone near my backpackers. The staff ring ahead for a bed in a gite-d’etape (backpackers) at Le Puy-en-Velay, my start point, and help with how to get there.
Six moving days - four in New Zealand and two in France.
And so to bed.
Underway at last. Two neighbours gave me a ride from the village to the long distance bus stop in central Porirua to start my odyssey. By early afternoon I’m in Napier Cathedral meeting a friend from our first year at college. And my supporter (best man) at both my weddings. We have a grand catch up bringing one another up to date on family and medical histories, with a pub dinner added.
On Wednesday to a backpackers in downtown Auckland just off Queen Street. Sitting outside having a kebab when a roommate stops for a chat: she’s spending quality time with her 103 year old grandmother and wondering what life holds for her. We chat again briefly and in depth before we go our separate ways on Friday morning. In between I visit two cousins I haven’t seen for more than 30 years at least and we chat about family trees with a focus on our maternal grandfather. We undertake to keep in touch,
A feature of the trip so far has been having young women as travelling companions. In addition to the woman in Auckland there was a woman from Belgium working on a farm near Hunterville as a nanny on the bus to Napier and a midwife on the train from Charles de Gaulle Airport (near Paris) to Lyon: both had good English.
Sunday in Lyon. First to Mass in the Basilica on top of cliff face overlooking Lyon. The climb does no harm (about 150 metres above the river Saone that my backpackers is alongside of). Then back down to the water (a lot easier) and past the Cathedral (both are less than 150 years old, as are most I pass this day). Skirting the river I become fascinated by entrances to the apartment buildings – they are massive – and photograph quite a number, trying to get passers-by in shot to show off the scale. At the confluence of the Saone and Rhone rivers I encounter the well named Museum of the Confluence. The use of space, both outside (striking) and in (two levels with circular passage ways with large and smaller display rooms to either side) and very popular.
Returning up the spit of land I find a second main railway station (Perrache) about 10 metres above street level and with about 10 platforms - in the 20 minutes I rest, several TGV trains arrive or depart. I seem to be in the centre between the two rivers as I pass through several squares. Then up almost continuous broad and shallow sets of steps to the top of Croix Rouge (once the epicentre of silk fabric production for France, if not much of the world). At the top turn left to come back to the Saone near my backpackers. The staff ring ahead for a bed in a gite-d’etape (backpackers) at Le Puy-en-Velay, my start point, and help with how to get there.
Six moving days - four in New Zealand and two in France.
And so to bed.
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