greetings to you from the city of Figeac, I have almost reached the halfway mark in France! Here I am, tan lines and all, 600 km behind me, 1272ish more to go. WOW! Though somedays it feels that I walk hundreds and hundreds more miles than what I have actually walked, 600 certainly feels like a great distance. In truth it's still hard to wrap my head around this. I don't think I have ever walked 600km in my life! Phew, that is something in itself to be proud of.
Where to even begin this section of letter out to you....hmmm last time I left off was in St. Andre. As it turned out the days temperature that day soared well above 42 degrees and I was happy to have cut my day as short as I did, no one should be out walking in that sort of heat. Needless to say, the weather made a turn for the better the following day and overall had remained more cool as I have gone up in elevation as I am currently walking through mountains. Not the large mountains that I am familiar with back in Canada and the US, these mountains are very old and worn down, making them feel more like foothills that I am crossing. What area am I in, you may wonder: Rhone country. First mountains and then the trail takes me back through wine country, meandering through vineyards! Its been quite the treat to have a fresh glass of wine right from where they originate. I've had the splendid opportunity to share a glass or two with the locals along the way, who insist with great passion that you MUST TRY THE WINE, CHEESE and MEAT!!!! I've got two covered, but sadly the meat will remain a mystery behind the magic of meat out here. I had my first strong cheese experience in St. Miguel. To be fair, I was warned ahead of time about the cheeses intensity, but of course one can only help but to cut off a modest slice and bite right into it, over-confidently with a look of "don't worry....I can handle it". I was sitting with the owners of a bed and breakfast I had stumbled upon. It was the husband who warned me, and was now watching with a bemused twinkle in my eye as I took my big bit of cheese. Smiling, I looked at him, but before I could make the look of "see, its not that strong" the flavour of intense cheese and pepper exploded on my tongue and nestled quite contentedly in my nose as if there was a small bonfire happening up there. INTENSE does not begin to describe the feeling my tastebuds were experiencing in that moment. Part of me wanted to cry, all the while the husband continued to watch. A great laugh came out as I tried searching for anything to make the flavour stop hurting. The wife got up from the table returning with a bottle of wine and poured me a very generous glass. Both insisted I drink it up as it would help to subdue the shock of the cheese. The husband, after he had his good laugh suggested that I ought to stick with the lighter cheeses. It was clear, I needed to build up to the stronger cheeses!
The trail continues to be interesting; varying from paved to dirt roads, to rubble rocks with a small peppering of trails as I am more familiar to back home. Gone are the rugged and wild places of home, in replace is something more tame and structured, but it offers something that I have yet to put my finger on. Though walking on roads, it still feels as though I am walking along something special. The small shell and GR posts that mark the way on the camino are subtle. At times I wonder if the villagers notice these markings? Do they go unseen? Then what I begin to wonder, if back home there are also little markings in the towns and cities that are for trails that I haven't noticed before. How much, I wonder, do we notice in the small things? The last few days threw an extra spin to the mix. The camino actually takes you through cow pastures. Along the trail, I have come to several gates, with "please close behind you signs" before walking amongst the cows. It's a strange feeling. Sometimes peaceful, othertimes slighly nerve racking from getting the death stare from the bull...as if he was saying 'hey! don't touch my women you hear? I have horns and can you hear my grunt of disapproval? just you keep walking human' and so I do, happy to walk over cow patties and be on my merry way.
Le Puy was the first city I reached since leaving Geneva. It is an interesting city to visit, and where I had my first day off to collect my senses while organizing myself for the next section. Coming into Le Puy en Velay, one is met with a strange looking site: there is an abbey atop an old volcano, that overlooks the city. As I found out, Le Puy in translation means tip of the volcano, while velay is french for Valley. And that is exactly what it looks like. The abby was built in the 16th century sometime and you can climb up the volcano via endless stairs; to which an incredible view awaits. I chose to stay grounded and look up instead of braving the stairs....after a long days walk, thousands of stairs was not really looking like an enticing option. Ho hum, perhaps another visit down the road... Le Puy is home and known for its traditional handmade lace making which is still in practice today. The lace makers use the tradtional bobbin method, 10's of bobbins all laid out, following an intricate pattern that only the maker can follow. It is mind blowing to watch, their hands move so fast following a pattern. I tried to follow along but I couldn't. Mesmerizing.
Leaving Le Puy felt very different from my departure in Geneva. On the morning I was to set out back on the chemin, I attended the traditional pilgrims mass at the Cathedral de Notre Dame de Le Puy, the home of the black virgin. Here pilgrims left en mass, there were about 60 of us spilling out the doors, laden with our packs ready to greet the trail ahead. In the start it felt like a marathon, eager pilgrims, all trying to figure out their pace. Many french walkers, but I am happy to report, that there was a family of 5 setting out from Quebec! Pretty cool to have some home grown canadians sharing the trail, though their time is shorter with only three weeks. This section has proven to be good with many more pilgrims to meet and talk with, even if most are only on short holidays. it is nice to now have more people to share the evenings with in conversation and good company. My french has improved, my vocabulary continues to be limited to simple words and phrases but the folks have been kind and many will sit and talk with me, asking questions and sharing their stories. Last night I shared a gite with my first English pilgrims, and sat about drinking cups of tea, in fact, after stepping through the door, hot and winded from an incredibly long day, the woman looked at me and asked 'would you care for a cup of tea?' I looked at her nearly in tears from contentedness at this simple lovely question and responded, 'yes!'
Had my first rainshower yesterday, which was a refreshing change to the heat, birds still merrily chirping about in the trees, happy too I think, for a little relief. But the rainshower was short and soon the afternoon turned to heat, with the slow going setting in with steep hills to climb. I have decided that the french like to attack hills the way one pulls off a bandaid. No nonesense of putting in a few switchbacks, just go straight up instead. So up up up up up I went, then straight down down down down I go, only to be met around the bend by another up hill! My heart I feel, if looked under a microscope will have little abs, for it is certainly getting a workout. I have always struggled with hills of many shapes and sizes but each challenge brings rewards and a smile to know that, though intimidating; its possible to get up even if it takes a very long time! But for now, I think I have said goodbye to the mountains and will be met with more gentle rollng hills until I reach the pyrenees (in a week or so....). From here, as my guidebook indicates, I will be in much lower elevation. Bring on the heat! It's time time to start aclimatizing before spain!
There is still much to say and share, however, my time is limited with the computer, and I feel that I have written you a book already! Thinking of you all out here, lots of reminders of peple, places and things from home.
A bientot!
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