A Pilgrimage Walk from Le Puy-en-Velay to Santiago de Compostela, 2003. 6. Fourth week (16-22 May)
Pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela, 2003.
Week 4 (16-22 May)
Friday, 16 May 2003. Condom. [Day 22]
I’m writing in a small gîte run by the city, inserted into a wing of a large school building. It looks 19th century. The young woman signing us in told us with great seriousness (and with a certain delight) how pilgrims were being assaulted and robbed, including a priest (of all people), attacked both going and returning from Santiago. It’s always possible that this might happen to us; we’ll just have to hope for the best.
Now, at 6:40 p.m., it has started to rain. Our touristic inspection, after my usual yoga, shave/shower, and laundry (in the large institutional shower – washbasin area), was thus cut short. But we did visit the cathedral (Gothic) and an adjacent cloister (16th century, with much 19th-century rebuilding). The town has older houses in the center, but isn’t particularly picturesque. The gray skies may be in part responsible, of course.
Last night’s dinner in Lectoure was wonderful, served in the high-ceilinged dining hall on the ground floor. The two priests, sitting at one end, smiled and laughed, clearly enjoying the company of nine pilgrims and the two volunteer hospitaliers. We ate: soup, lasagna, green salad, cheese plate, fruit salad, and pound cake. One pilgrim, celebrating his 58th birthday, contributed white and rosé wine for all. After dinner, we sang the rousing pilgrims’ song, beginning “Tous les matins nous prenons le chemin,” [“Every morning we set out on the road”] and ending with “Ultreia! E susseia! Deus adjuvat nos!” [“Let’s go farther! Let’s go higher! God, please help us!”]. A young woman from Quebec, stuck in Lectoure for an extra day or two because of feet problems, was an enthusiastic singer. She addressed me as “tu” [informal “you,” in French], which jarred me. But perhaps I and others on this pilgrimage are too formal in addressing each other as “vous” [= formal “you”].
After a good sleep and the usual continental breakfast (café au lait, bread, butter, and jam), we left Lectoure at 8:15 a.m. The weather was partly cloudy all day. We passed old buildings here and there, and walked along fields with warm colors. Lunch in the garden of Chapelle Sainte-Germaine, a building from the 12th or 13th century. We walked the second half of the day with François B.
Saturday, 17 May 2003. Ēauze. [Day 23]
We left Condom this morning under gray skies. Last night, we had a lively dinner in a pizzeria with François B. We tasted two local drinks, “floc” (I liked it) and “pousserapière” (sparkling white wine and armagnac – less good). Good pizza. This morning we said good-bye to François, who must return to Paris and work. He has been a good companion on this stretch from Cahors to Condom and has taught us many things. For example: the red wine from Haut-Médoc (Bordeaux region) is a valeur sûre (= you can’t go wrong with this). In addition, he has corrected our French, informing us that we need to say “parfois” not “des fois,” for “sometimes”; it has a more educated ring. He has also taught me the phrase, “Vous avez quelque chose qui nuit à votre dignité” [“You have something that is harming your dignity”], to indicate to someone that the nostrils need a discreet cleaning. Much love of telling us about Romanesque architecture and sculpture. In fact he very much likes instructing us, period.
Gradually the weather improved. We stopped mid-day in Montréal-du-Gers, a small town with a charming square with fountain, and an attractive church. Mid-day scenery featured lots of vineyards; a few times we walked through them and it was magic.
The end of the day, though, consisted of a 7 km trudge down a former railway bed. Although attractively tree-lined and shady, at the end of a long day’s walk (32 km), this stretch seemed endless.
At last we reached Ēauze and were warmly welcomed at the Office of Tourism. We are staying in the municipal gîte, located in an old building.
Sunday, 18 May 2003. Lanne Soubiran. [Day 24]
Tonight we are staying in Lanne Soubiran, in a private gîte called “Maison Labarbe” on the GR65 (the number of our trail) at the edge of a hamlet. It seems to be located completely in the countryside. This is a restored farm complex, with Tudor-type half timbering.
We’re here with Vincent (the red-headed Belgian) and Michel (no. 2), and someone else newly seen.
Dinner yesterday evening in Ēauze at a brasserie, Café de France: soup (leek-potato), assiette de crudités / charcuterie, grilled ham steak and French fries, and dessert (I had a “gateau basque,” with almond paste fill, Caroline had ice cream). The young waitress, charming, removed each plate with the phrase, “Ça a été?” – meaning “Done?” – which is an expression Caroline and I have learned on this trip.
I slept by a window and so could guarantee that it stayed open during the night. Two other Americans were in the room, a father (not native-born to judge from his accented English, but he wouldn’t reveal his country of origin) and his son (Caroline’s age). We haven't come across many Americans, which surprises me.
Today, as we walked by vineyards, we did encounter two other Americans, both from Santa Barbara, where I lived during my high school and college years: Suzanne and a man -- (I didn't catch his name). Suzanne had taken courses at UCSB (University of California, Santa Barbara) from Fikret Yegül, a specialist in Roman architecture, a fellow archaeologist and friend.
Today the weather was warm – the warmest day so far. The scenery still consists of slightly rolling hills and farms. The landscape seems dry, in need of rain. It is easy to imagine how hot it must get here in August.
Lunch: the usual bread, cheese (today: Cantal “entre-deux”), an apple (a pear for Caroline), tomato slices, and a bit of chocolate. We ate in a park in front of the big church of Nogaro. Then we went to a café and had a coffee, had our water bottles filled, and used the WC.
Nogaro has a race track for car races, and this weekend a race was held (one reason why we walked 10 km beyond Nogaro, to escape the crowds). The aim, we learned, is to see how far you can drive on one liter of gasoline. The competing cars are ultra-light and low.
Mornings: while walking, I say prayers. Afternoons: foot fatigue sets in (and I now have three blisters going) and I march on – particularly if the distance is over, say, 28 km. Tomorrow we have a short étape [“stretch”] of 18 km to Aire-sur-l’Adour. We should arrive fairly early, which will give us a chance to rest and get organized and, I hope, use the internet.
Last night, I telephoned Marie-Henriette, to hear her voice (and ask a few money questions). She was fine – and, I’m sure, surprised.
Monday, 19 May 2003. Aire-sur-l’Adour. [Day 25]
4:45 p.m. The distance was shorter today, 18 km, so we reach our destination earlier than usual, at 1:30 p.m. The weather was clear, sunny, and warm when we set out at 8:30 a.m, but by midday a fierce wind came up that took the edge off the heat but blew dust into our faces as we crossed large, flat farm fields. Clouds followed, and now it is raining.
We’re settled in the Hôtel de la Paix, old and creaky (doesn’t even merit a one-star rating), in two separate singles with windows to the outside. I refused a room with windows that gave only onto the corridor. Had we arrived later, we would have had to accept the less desirable room. Surprisingly, our rooms have good plumbing, a washbasin, shower, and bidet.
We arrived too late for a proper lunch at the bar / brasserie, so instead of salads we had old-style sandwiches (= baguette, ham, butter). Most of the town is shut down this Monday afternoon. The place with internet is closed today. Also, there is a nation-wide teachers strike. The overall tone is mournful.
The local “gîte,” called the “centre des loisirs,” is on the far outskirts of the town, just as we were entering. I thought it preferable to stay in the city center, to avoid a long walk at dinner, to & from a restaurant. The rain makes the decision seem wise. Anyway, these rooms are only €13 each (breakfast included).
I feel tired – maybe just sagging into the extra time an early arrival gives, and the privacy of this simple room. It’s a kind of mini rest break – our first since Conques, and so no feeling of guilt is needed. In the shower I asked myself, do I have the strength to keep going all the way to Santiago? I have asked myself this from time to time during the hard moments of walking. But so far, each morning I wake up revived.
(photo: fr.wikipedia.org. Domaine public)
Yesterday evening, we ate a memorable dinner served by Monique and Pierre, the owners of the gîte at Lanne Soubiran: soup, confit de canard and steamed potatoes, green salad, cheese plate, and crème brûlée. We were three (Caroline, myself, and Serge), plus the two hosts. Much red wine was offered – also a glass of “floc” as an aperitif, and Armagnac after dinner. They serve the same menu every night, but usually eat simpler fare themselves, while the pilgrims eat the high-calorie items. The conversation was lively. Monique and Pierre are from Marseille / Aix-en-Provence. When they bought the property (a fixer-upper) seven years ago, they didn’t know it lay on the the pilgrimage route, the Chemin de St. Jacques. There were fewer walkers then, in any case.
Pierre from time to time receives ducks, which he then force-feeds for 12 days (to promote foie gras, etc.) before sending them to the slaughterhouse. These ducks are a special breed: they don’t quack. Today, we passed some duck-raising farms, with masses of ducks outside, with the expected smells.
Along a railway track, today, by a cluster of trees, we came to a surprising little stop with a bench and a metal sign that said “Ultreia!” and another that said “Remontez le moral!” [“Keep your spirits up!”]; cold water in a picnic chest; and a log book for pilgrims to write in. Vincent, the red-headed Belgian, was the last to write, just before us. On the box containing the log was a quote from Jean Giono, something about the importance of walking in order to get to know a place or region. All this was very welcome. Perhaps this stop was set up by the people in the house opposite, which stood by itself, with a nice garden. A very kind thing to do.
Tuesday, 20 May 2003. Arzacq (Arraziguet). [Day 26]
9:30 p.m. We have places in a large gîte for pilgrims run by the municipality. It was a long day. We left at 8 a.m, shopped a bit, left Aire at 8:15 am, but didn’t arrive here til 7 p.m. Caroline suffered all day from sore tendons (lower legs, front), and so walked slowly and in pain. She thinks she walked too fast yesterday, on the flats. She refused, though, to stop midway, at Miramont, but wanted to continue. Two Frenchmen with a car, part of a group, kindly drove her backpack for the final 6 km, from Pimbo to Arzacq.
It rained on and off throughout the day. The scenery became beautiful after we left the flat fields of the Landes -- although those flat fields had their own interest. Now rolling hills, grass, pine trees have reappeared. Miramont-Sensacq was very attractive, and Pimbo, beautifully located on the crest of a hill, looked charming. In Pimbo, we found a nice person at the local accueil, the town’s welcome office. Outside, a friendly woman, 60-ish, asked us about the pilgrimage. She was eager for information. Too old to do it herself, she said.
Last night, dinner at Hotel l’Ahumat (name refers to “the smoky place” = the kitchen) – a standard €10.30 type menu. Afterwards, taking a stroll, we crossed the bridge over the Adour River, for a view toward the town center.
Wednesday, 21 May 2003. Arzacq. [Day 27]
10:30 a.m. We’re taking a rest day here, because Caroline’s tendons are still hurting. We hope by tomorrow she will be in a condition to walk.
It’s gray and chilly. Rain today, perhaps? The Pyrenees are clear in the distance, though, rising up from the lowlands. I’ll spend the day writing postcards, doing laundry, reading the newspaper. The rest will certainly be good for me, too. The time will pass quickly. We’ll have a good lunch somewhere.
Later: We indeed had lunch at a good restaurant. Salad (Caroline); sauté of tuna, potatoes, sweet red peppers, and onions (me).
Also done: internet (at the tourism office). Laundry. Market (for tomorrow’s picnic lunch). François (from Monistrol, at the beginning of our journey) and Michel have reappeared.
Thursday, 22 May 2003. Casteide-Candau (3 km west of Pomps). [Day 28]
I'm writing from a private gîte (actually “chambres d’hôte,” because we have requested “demi pension,” not available for the gîte section here), a restored farm complex in the countryside. The Pyrenees mountains are visible in the distance. We’re a bit off the trail, so the owner of this gîte picked us up in Pomps and will drive us back there tomorrow morning. Our room, a suite really, is called “La Sultane.” I will sleep in a bedroom with “Orientalizing” décor; Caroline will sleep on a couch in the living room. These rooms have been recently done and are very comfortable. Highlight: a swimming pool! The water is cold (21˚ C), but on this hot day very refreshing.
We set out this morning to walk to Pomps (pronounced “pompse”), 18 km from Arzacq, not knowing whether Caroline’s tendons would take it. The group of four – three Frenchmen and one American (Jerry, a pediatrician from Fairfield, CT, who had checked Caroline’s feet and legs and given some helpful advice) – who have a car, kindly offered to drive Caroline’s backpack to the market in Pomps. Offer accepted. She walked comfortably all day (we left at 8:40 a.m, arrived at 3 p.m.) without complaints. Tomorrow she will have to carry her pack. But we’ll do another shortish walk, 18 km, in the hope that all will be OK.
Beautiful countryside: hills, forests, pastures, cows, and the Pyrenees looming beyond. Clear, sunny, and warm all day, our warmest day so far. The clothes we washed will certainly dry.
Church architecture has abruptly changed, with a different form of tower and a kind of rounded thick-walled contour.
Detail:
Lunch – a very nice surprise. At Uzan, in the garden of a private house, we found a shady corner for pilgrims: 5 chairs, coffee and hot water (for tea) in thermoses, tea bags, and delicious cake – and a “pilgrim book” and a little piggy bank for contributions. It was almost 1:30 p.m., and no one else was there, so we sat down and ate our picnic lunch, which included Etorki cheese for the first time on this trip (a cheese made of sheep’s milk, a famous product of the French Basque region). We had coffee and cake, left a small contribution, and expressed our thanks in the Pilgrim Book.
Yesterday evening, we had dinner in the Arzacq gîte: carrot salad and tomato slices; steak and frites; cheese plate; and yogurt. After dinner, we joined the group of four men, who are doing the pilgrimage in yearly segments. One drives the bags to the night’s stop while the others walk. Also with us were Morits and his son Carl, with whom we had shared a room at the gite in Éauze, and Michel (from Brest) and briefly François (who had had a coffee and floc with Caroline just before dinner). Morits and Carl are from New Jersey, but Morits, I have now learned, is originally from Holland.
I had a nice talk with Albert (from the group of four), who has done the whole pilgrimage before, and who approved of my outlook: both spiritual and secular, with a spirit of thanksgiving and joy, not expecting or desiring any particular outcome other than to be open to what happens. This was one of the best conversations I have had about this trip if undertaken as a pilgrimage. These men are about to end their annual get-together on the Chemin, the pilgrimage route, and drive to the sanctuary at Lourdes, their final stop.
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