Reality Check
I was comfortable in my room last night and slept pretty well. There were some jarring moments when I hit my head on the exposed beams twice. Nothing serious, I just felt really foolish the second time, when I should have learned my lesson after the first cranial contact. When I write the review for the hotel, I will suggest that nobody over 5'8” take room number three.
Rain was threatened for the day, but as the sun came out I could see clearing skies, and mist hanging over the hills that surrounded the town. Before 6:30 a.m. I knew I was going to walk today and I was glad that I had the opportunity.
As I sat downstairs and had my breakfast, I could see several people making their way down the street with packs on their backs. It became obvious that they really weren't Camino walkers because the packs were light, and none of them turned to go down the stairs to actually join the Camino route. There are several loops and day hikes all throughout this region of France.
I don't do an in-depth study of each segment of the Camino. It's a combination of wanting to be surprised and also not anticipating some of the more challenging portions. There's no option when you're on the trail. If there's a hill you either go up it or down it depending on the direction of travel. If there are exposed fields for two hours, you double down on your sunscreen, pull the hat down to shield your eyes, and just keep moving forward.
I made an exception and read about today's segment. I saw many comments that rated it as "hard, strenuous, and challenging." Whenever I see people describe the route that way I immediately figure they're out of shape, or a little older than me, or just people who like to complain. None of that was true for this particular segment. It was a certified b****!
The very first portion of it was down the stone streets of Conques, and they were still slippery from the morning dew and the rain the night before. It was slow going. Once I crossed the Roman bridge it was immediately obvious that this was going to be a challenging day. The ascent was steep, littered with stones and rock outcroppings, fallen leaves and debris.
By the time I crested the hill, just a little under one mile into the walk, I had already spent 52 minutes hiking. The last time it took me that long to move a mile was on the Wainwright Coast to Coast. It's not just the exertion, although my heart rate was up above 140 for most of the climb. It was the fact that you had to pick every single footfall, and where I would place the tips of my trekking poles, to ensure that I wasn't going to tumble either up or down the hills.
I really thought having a day off, since I took the van the day prior, meant my legs would be fresh and I would bound up the hill without any difficulty. The reality check was that I should have believed the reviews. Would it have changed anything? Not really. Maybe just a little bit of my attitude. Like I said earlier, if it's in front of you, you've got to go. There wasn't a road segment that I could have bailed out onto. Not that I would have, because this was my last day to walk and I wasn't going to wimp out.
The reward was totally worth the effort. Sweeping views of the valleys on all sides and the sense of accomplishment as my heart rate dropped back into the normal zone. It was a treat to look back down the hill and know that it hadn't beaten me.
The number of Camino hikers had definitely thinned out. During the entire day I only spoke with four people, and saw a group of three off in the distance I never caught up with. I did have a short chat, although one-sided, with a cow that came to the fence line.
Since it was my last day walking, it was a good day to be alone. I fell into an easy rhythm once I got past the most challenging portion of the trail. I stopped about an hour and a half in and grabbed a quick cup of coffee so I could use the restroom at the cafe. Then it was mostly out in the open, up and down hills. There were some stretches under a canopy of trees and that was a nice break. Unfortunately, once again, there was just too much time on roads.
Unlike the hikes I've done in England and Spain where you actually cross farmers' fields and pastures, it doesn't appear to work that way in France. There is no right of way for the hiker. So if it's not a trail area away from farmland, you are on a road.
One of the interesting people I met was a gentleman named Rene. We only spoke for about a minute. He had an apparatus where his backpack was in a wheeled cradle and the trekking poles served as handles. On the flats it seemed like a good idea. There must have been some way he could have strapped the entire thing to his back in order for him to get up that first section. Otherwise, he didn't go there. I asked him if I could take a picture of him with his device and he held his camera out to me to ask if I would take a video of him going down the trail. It was a win-win situation.
Getting close to the destination for the day, I saw two women sitting off the side of the road enjoying some snacks in the shade. Their names were Carol and Dodou. We exchanged pleasantries. It's usually a positive environment when you see other hikers.
I carry some rubber bracelets with little phrases and positive affirmations on them. Things like, "Be your own hero,” “What doesn't kill us makes us stronger,” “Live your dream," and others along that line. In response, Dodou wanted to give me something in return. At first she offered me a pen, which I politely refused. Then she reached into her pack and retrieved a postcard of the cathedral of Conques. She insisted I take it, so I did. She wrote a nice note on the non-picture side.
It was just icing on the cake to finish the day in a positive way. About 40 minutes prior I had received a text from the proprietor of the hotel where I'm staying this evening. Check-in time wasn't supposed to be until 5:00 but he asked what time I expected to get there. I told him closer to 2:30. He simply said give him a call 30 minutes out and he would meet me to let me in.
Like most of the establishments I've stayed in on this trip, it's not like they're fully staffed hotels. In fact, one of the places I'm now skipping down the line is a yurt. I don't think I'll miss that one.
I arrived at right about 2:30 and he showed up 5 minutes later. He couldn't have been nicer. My room is simple. The priority when booking these hotels was for baggage service. I don't know that there is much luxury accommodation in most of these cities. I do know for a fact I haven't seen an air conditioner since I left England.
Since my luggage hadn't arrived yet I couldn't do my normal routine of washing clothes, washing myself, and napping. I had no clean clothes to change into. So I took a few minutes to sit and charge my phone, then headed to the local 7-Eleven equivalent. I'm always like a kid in the candy store when I get to these places. The fruit is fresh and there are pre-made sandwiches and cold bottles of water, and pretty much anything else that would give me some comfort and fill the void in my stomach for a bit before dinner.
My luck continued. By the time I got back, Jean-Phillippe, the hotel manager, told me my bag had arrived and was waiting for me at the top of the stairs. Everything fell into place.
There will be time for reflection tomorrow and the next day. It's really been a wonderful experience. I’ve met some great people and walked through history. I had moments to be social and moments of quiet reflection.
Tomorrow, because most of the trail is on roads, I'm taking the shuttle with my bags to Figeac. I'll catch up with some things there and enjoy a slightly larger city. My accommodations are close to the train station, so the following day I'm off to Caen and the D-Day beaches.
