Choosing a Path
I was grateful when the church bells stopped tolling the hour at 11 p.m. It was a little surprising when they started again at 5 a.m. and stirred me enough to realize that I was really cold. The room was so warm when I went to sleep I had covered up with just a sheet. Overnight, the temperature dropped 30 degrees, and with my windows wide open I stumbled around in the dark to find a blanket. That provided some relief until the bells rang again at 6:00. I was up before they had a chance to ring again.
I was pretty psyched to get out the door, and a little unsure about a decision I had made. When I booked the trip I was unable to get a room at the normal midway point after leaving Nasbinals. I checked the website for the luggage shipment company and looked at one town after another advancing down the trail. Each was just a little further down the road. I wound up settling on a place in Saint-Côme-dʼOlt. All I knew was that it was in the right town and my luggage could be delivered and picked up there.
The decision I made was instead of attempting to walk 40 km (about 25 miles) in one day, I was taking the shuttle bus and skipping to the midpoint city to begin my walk from there. While planning this trip, I had no idea it would be over 90 degrees out everyday. A couple of days ago when I looked at what I could expect ahead in terms of elevation I'd have to go up and down, and the wide open areas I would need to transit, it seemed like a wise decision to make this adjustment, given the heat. It turns out that it definitely was.
The van arrived right on time at 10 a.m. It was the earliest van available and would get me to my stepping-off point of Saint-Chely d'Aubrac by about 10:30. Starting earlier would have been nice because it would have been cooler, but I had abbreviated the day and wasn't too concerned about completing on time to check in to my accommodation.
Three of us boarded the van in Nasbinals. We stopped and picked up one other rider, and from what I could make out he had gotten off the trail because he had injured himself. He was heading to a place where he could pick up a train and go back home.
When I read the description of the trail it was listed as "hard." There were many long climbs on different surfaces. The good news was the ascent provided the opportunity to look back and see some incredible views.
I was mostly alone because of my late start. I didn't catch up to anybody until a little over four miles into the walk. Prior to that I did have some kind of company. As I was enjoying my bucolic walk through the woods, there was a blaring sound of machinery approaching from behind. Four young men on dirt bikes came roaring up the trail and I stepped aside. They stopped just in front of me and I had to wonder why. There was no threat, although teenage boys sometimes engage in harassment that they may see as a sport. None of that happened. I used the best French I had to ask them about their motorcycles, and told them about the motorcycles I had owned. Now we were biker buds and they smiled and left. Shortly thereafter the calm and quiet returned.
It's impossible to capture the majestic views I saw on today's walk. They were totally worth the exertion. Over and over again I patted myself on the back for my decision not to try and walk the full 40 km in one day. I'll believe that I could have done it … but I couldn't be happier that I didn't.
Today's project to pass the time was remembering the theme songs to TV comedy shows. There were easy ones like The Brady Bunch or Gilligan's Island and The Addams Family. Then I tried to dig deeper into a subset without lyrics, just music, or in the case of The Andy Griffith Show, whistling. Now I'm going to have to look up the theme song for the Jerry Van Dyke show, My Mother the Car. I can't remember what that theme song was as hard as I try.
As I was walking alongside some pastures, I saw two horses on the other side of the wire. Do not be disturbed by the picture—the smaller horse is laying down but he turns out alright. I understand that means they aren't well. The larger horse looked at me as I passed by, as if to ask for assistance. I really didn't know what to do. But, as they say, the Camino provides. Not 10 minutes later I flagged down a farmer, and my 4th grade French teacher would have been proud of me for the short exchange.
I first asked if they were his horses and he said they weren't. I told him that one was lying down, and the first thing he asked me was if it was dead. I replied that it wasn't, but was showing certain symptoms. I made more motions than words to describe what I had seen. The farmer jumped in his truck and sped up the road, even though these weren't his livestock.
A woman named Murielle caught up to me about a half hour later while I was taking a lunch break, and she told me both horses were up and around and doing fine. Murielle is a French national with dual citizenship in the US. She works in Boston for some huge international conglomerate. We walked and talked together for the next hour and a half before she had to continue on to the next town, while I stopped in my little village.
It was perfect timing to have someone to walk with and pace me as we went up one of the longest and most challenging hills of the day. She moved more quickly than I did, but I wouldn't give up and pressed to the top as my pulse raced. There is an incredible sense of satisfaction when you finally crest one of those hills. As good as it would feel just to be going down the other side, you almost want to take the moment at the top and enjoy the small conquest of the day. It was at the top of one of those hills that we came across a gite called Chez Muriel. The spelling wasn't quite the same as the woman I was walking with, but it was a pretty funny coincidence.
It was during the long climb up that hill that the quiet of the forest was disturbed again by the sound of motorcycles. You could hear two-stroke engines whining long before the young men appeared on their bikes. The path was very narrow at this point and I had to step aside to make room for them. A woman walking ahead of us received a full blast of blue smoke in her face as the oil-burning engine accelerated up and away. It was definitely a disruption, but none of us was going to let it ruin the experience of the day. We simply commented, very briefly, that they probably weren't supposed to be on the path.
There was not a single open restaurant or cafe the entire length of my walk today. Some of that was due to the actual route, but mostly it was because this is Sunday and places just don't open. When we arrived in the village of Saint-Come-d'Olt we did find a small ice cream and sandwich shop open. Anyone who had been out walking was congregating there. I treated myself to a beer. Murielle had an orange drink because she still had a few more miles to go.
Every step I took away from the cafe to get to my accommodation for the night was another step away from the trail. I didn't do enough research on this place to really lock down the location. All these villages are small and I made the assumption that it would be somewhere close to the city center. It was an additional 15 minutes out of town.
That wasn't the biggest surprise. Tonight I am sleeping in a retrofitted stable. It's nice enough but not too nice. The family lives next door and it's obvious they're trying to make some extra money. The refurbishment has been done on the cheap and it's not the cleanest place I've been. Cobwebs and things like that are obvious in the corners. I just don't think it gets used that much. I definitely won't be using this swimming pool.
It also required some walking along a pretty busy road to get here. Luckily, after speaking with the owner, I determined that I could go back to the city for dinner by using a path and going just a little bit out of the way through a quiet neighborhood.
When I went back to town there was only one restaurant open and they seated me even though I didn't have a reservation. There was another single gentleman there and they half-jokingly asked if he would share the table with me since the place was so busy. The look of disdain on his face indicated that he had no interest in sharing the table. They sat him next to me, and unfortunately he was a chain smoker. I was downwind. I ordered a chicken burger but I'm pretty sure I got beef. I haven't had a real hamburger in more than 20 years. Maybe today was the day. It filled the void and will help me sleep better tonight.
Back at the room, I tried sitting out front as the evening began to cool off a bit. It was still close to 90 degrees at 8 p.m. There's only one window in this place and no cross ventilation.
I didn't last long outside. As soon as the sun began to set, biting flies showed up in droves. A few of them got me before I recognized what was happening and I retreated back into my stifling chamber. I took a cold shower and did the best I could to cool off. As a result of the onslaught of flying nuisances, I went into my pack for the afterbite spray. I've done enough of these walks to know what is definitely required equipment.
Now as I lay back and complete the blog entry for the day, I'll try to get the spotty internet to work so I can upload pictures in a reasonable amount of time. I'm not sure how sleeping's going to work out tonight. There is no cover sheet on the bed, just a fitted sheet over the mattress (rather futon) and then a duvet that’s way too heavy for the temperature in here right now.
It's all part of the travel experience. I will manage and tomorrow I'll press on for another fairly short day. The decision I have to make is whether I go back about a half mile to pick up the trail again, or go forward along the road for 6/10 of a mile, to where I can rejoin the trail in the next village. I'm leaning toward a shorter distance. Much of this walk has been on roads already and the Europeans seem to have a better sense and respect for pedestrians than we do in the United States.
Tomorrow I get to see some medieval buildings and more beautiful panoramas. Plus there's a big grocery store about four minutes away that opens at 9 a.m. I’m enjoying the fresh fruits and bread during my visit. It was really a very good day.
