Lauzerte – Moissac: 25kms – Friday

Our last day on the Camino…..for now. A rather long, hot day, with many significant undulations and too much road walking. Lots of fruit orchards along the path….We left Lauzerte early knowing we needed to catch a late afternoon train from Moissac to Toulouse for our flight to London the following morning. We arrived in Moissac tired, hot and stinky, but with enough time to visit the famous monastery….Finished in 1100 and amazingly well-preserved, the monastery cloister is the principle reason to visit Moissac. It is extraordinary and well worth the visit.

We ran into our Swiss-German friend, Johaness. Moissac was also his final destination. A drink with him at a café in the square next to the Cathedral and off we went.

Nearly 175 miles on this trip. Eleven days of walking. One rest day. 1085 kilometers remain to reach Santiago de Compostella…….I’m ready.

Lascabannes – Lauzerte: 21kms – Thursday, October 7th

A very picturesque walk today. Gorgeous countryside as we left the Lot and entered the Tarn-et-Garonne region. Met up with one of the French-woman walkers from the previous night’s gite and chatted in our combined broken English-French. The upshot of this observation is that I finally comprehended the aural distinction between poison et poisson – an important distinction if ordering at a restaurant…

We spent the night at a chamber d’Hote run by an ex-pat couple from England – Margaret and John. Retired, they had visited in the region for many years, before purchasing their home three years previously, just on the outskirts of Lauzerte. They recently started offering a couple of their rooms as a B&B in order to supplement their income due to the significant loss of value the British Pound has suffered to the Euro. Very hospitable hosts, and a pleasant room with a nice dinner thrown in for an additional 20E.

Lauzerte is a very quaint village, perched high on the hill. Fortunately we got a ride to the top from our hosts. A quick late afternoon tour and beer in the square with a handful of our walking friends who were all once again staying in the local gite…

Cahors – Lascabannes: 24 kms – Wednesday

A fairly easy day of walking – fairly flat and non-descript. Arrived at our gite by 3pm, and for the first time were placed in a shared room with two other people. When one of the guys took off his shirt and exposed his large wine induced gut, Les let out a moan of desperation….Despite that introduction to communal gite living, the gite was spotless and quite nice.

Before dinner we bought a bottle of local Rose and sat outside….with the half-drunk bottle of wine, we decided to enter the adjoining little church – I had the sense that this was quite not appropriate, but what the heck – I surmised that priests were fond of vin, so…..Before I could test my hypothesis, we realized there a service was underway for the few pilgrims so we did not enter. When I subsequently recounted this to a couple of the pilgrims they were aghast at the consequences of my ungodly behavior….No problem – St Jacques would have understood.

The gite caretaker was a fabulous cook – a lip-smacking chicken dish and a apple crumble with raspberry sauce to die for. Sitting around the table with the other 10 french-speaking walkers and occasionally chiming in with my limited French – a delightful evening. The evening was not too bad – that is until 4:00am when one of our sleeping companions decided he wanted to read and turned on his red-headlamp - which shone directly at me. He left early. I slept in.

Varaire – Cahors: 32 km – Monday

Woke up to thunder, lightning and heavy rain…..20 some miles in this weather, mon dieu! Fortunately by 8:30am the rain had stopped and we decided to give it a go – even though I admit I inquired about bus service to Cahors – not only because of the weather but because of my sensitive toes….But no, walking was the only realistic means of transport.

The morning turned out to be a lovely walk – down a Roman road (very straight) through forest land – quite easy walking. But by Noon, Zeus decided enough with the nice stuff, and the rain began – for the next 4 hours till our arrival in Cahors. Mile after mile of wet, quiet emptiness. Only a couple of farms and no walkers the entire day. The last kilometer was once again straight downhill – worse yet on asphalt. The weakened knees arrived us into the very cosmopolitan Cahors.

We have decided to spend 2 nights in Cahors - a well deserved rest day after four days of strenuous walking. Our walking “friends” are at the youth hostel. We are staying at a very cute little two star hotel – with a great view of a 17th Century Tower and eglise out our window (picture enclosed).

Cahors is Les’ version of ultimate ecstacy….foie gras is everywhere. It seems to ooze from all the windows, and Les is salivating at the potential gastronomic delights. She has no qualms about being a situational vegetarian when it comes to goose liver. Being Monday most restaurants were closed, but we found one wonderful exception and Les got her foie gras – and since I am big on simultaneous bliss, I ordered the same. Another great diner, and for only 15E (3E extra for the foie gras). One of our walking friends came in and we spent the evening chatting with him. He told us he had met a man on the Camino who was transporting his luggage on a wheeled container behind him, strapped to him by a harness. That was not the interesting part – the guy has started in Finland!...

Our rest day in Cahors was primarily spent eating and recuperating. On our way to dinner we ran into the Belgium couple we had met on night. They were finishing their walk and invited us for a drink. The camaraderie of this walk is probably the most enjoyable aspect… the evening dinner was at bib gourmand Michelin restaurant where once again Les indulged her addiction….

Cajarc – Varaire: 26kms – Sunday

Only 26 kms today, a mere 16 miles. Crossed the Lot river to the sound of music – the wind blowing through the metal bars of the bridge spanning the river – a rendition of the Long and Winding Road…..

Passed the two French couples on route – they cheated and got a ride to the town ahead of us – as well as Mr. Vienna, struggling with the wind (his tent was a big round thing on his back – not good aerodynamics). Again, pretty empty countryside except the occasional fig and walnut tree to sustain our appetite.

We arrived early at our gite - @ 5pm. A very well appointed place – our own room (stone walls) with bathroom – kinda luxurious. A non-descript village with the gite being the central hub of activity. The pre-meal appertives were spent drinking wine and chatting with the French couples, Mr Vienna and a few other walkers staying at the gite. Very pleasant and a good sense of the communal nature of the walk. An OK dinner. Tomorrow another long day if we are to reach Cahors…

Figeac – Cajarc: 33kms – Saturday

Saturday morning was market day in Figeac. We picked up lunch goodies, including Les’ favorite – dark grainy bread. A note on French bread – it does not suit Les’ bowels and she constantly reminds me not to eat it. Yeah right! I love it. …A large chunk of aged Cantal cheese, a bit of jambon for yours truly and scores of prunes for the femme as a hopeful remedy to her French affliction, and off we went on another long day.

And long it was. We went through 4 liters of water on a day with only couple of small villages en route. Fortunately eau potable was available at both.…Met up with a few other walkers – two older French couples and one young man who had started walking in Vienna. Going to Santiago. More than two months walking so far - over the Alps with more significant undulations awaiting him. Hopes to finish by mid-November. Carrying his tent and lots of weight. Quite extraordinary. Mr. Vienna we call him…

Our first vineyard is seen shortly out of Figeac. Sweet tasting berries – don’t ask this alleged connoisseur what varietal… Once again another nasty, rocky descent into Cajarc. Turned out to it was a cute, provencal looking town. Suffice to say we saw none of it because we went directly to our very nice hotel - arriving at 6pm, quite exhausted. No gite and no wandering after such a long day. Even Les had trouble walking down the stairs to our very nice dinner. Damn my toes.

Decazeville – Figeac: 30 kms – Friday

The one thing about the Camino is that does not like to take a direct route…..and it is fond of straight up and straight down. Such it was again this morning. Over the hill and down again for the first 4 kms before arriving in Livinhac for our morning café crème.

Once properly nourished it was a pleasant walk through the countryside, albeit at 19 miles, a long one. Two things of note….Once Les has her morning coffee she thinks the world is right and enjoys chatting – caffeine induced euphoria…She likes to note how every little thing is just so beautiful this lovely morning, etc. etc…It’s rather amusing.

The other thing of note is that she has no sympathy for my pathetic toes. She thinks I am a woos for my constant complaining about the pain I suffer – every single step. Even showing her the enormous blisters and swollen left toe prompted only a false sympathetic nod. She reminds me that I have not birthed a child so, “shut the f..k up”..….Damn feet!

On route today we walked with a couple of Canadian sisters – one of which is planning to write a guide book on the French Camino. She promised to make a mention of my observation that there is a certain pungent smell to the Camino – and I was referencing the farms and not the walkers.

Figeac turned out to be a lovely, sophisticate small city. Very classical French town. In other words, we wanted to stay - but walk on we must – the next day would be only 33 kms. To make up for our short stay we decided to eat dinner at the best restaurant in town – good food, beautifully presented.

Conques – Decazeville: 21 kms – Thursday

The climb out of Conques was strenuous, especially with @18-20 lbs on the back. Straight up for one hour….But the rest of the walk to Decazeville was pleasant enough, even though we had intermittent light rain for the whole of the day.

Decazeville is the least interesting of the towns we have visited. Non-descript, sort of industrial – in other words not particularly interesting. We bought some cheese, bread, wine and eggs and made dinner at our gite. Tomorrow is a long walk to Figeac

The sign indicates 1292 kilometers to Santiag

Eysperac – Conques: 12.5kms - Wednesday

Another short day. Just three hours of walking. However, the last kilometer was a killer - straight downhill on a narrow rocky path – undoubtedly treacherous goings in wet weather. Ah, but the destination is magnifique!

Conques is one of the most beautiful towns imaginable. The 11th Century cathedral dominates the town – a town straight out of the 14th Century. Quaint has nothing on this place. We are staying at the Abbey – the gite run by the monks (numbers unknown) for the pilgrims. Camino pilgrims have been staying here for hundreds of years . We have the corner suit – our own simple room, but with a large bathroom. Tres jolie..

Since we arrived early, lunch at a Michelin mentioned restaurant was in order. OK, pauvre, starving pilgrims we are not. Superior three course lunch – the brandade de moreau starter the star of the meal. 18 E. A very good , demi-pichet of white for 6 E. Best meal by far…

Dinner was a at the Abbey’s dining hall with about 50 pilgrims. Good basic meal for 11E. Sat next to a just retired German woman who was slowly making her way to Santiago. A french Canadian woman in front of me and a man from Belgium on her right. A mix of French and English spoken, and a very pleasant dinner had. Afterwards, most head to the Cathedral where at 9:30pm one of the monks plays the organ in that imposing edifice. He ended his 30 minute concert with a rendition of “The House of the Rising Sun” – and amazing it was….

Estaing – Eysperac: 23 kms – Tuesday

A lovely, sunny and cool day. Wonderful, not too strenuous walk through rolling hills and farmlands. Pictures do not do the views justice. We arrived at the Hotel de la Valle at @ 4pm – a bit tired, but not too bad for the second day. Interestingly, Les is developing her wit quickly on this walk. After a very long stretch without sight of any of her beloved apples trees we came across a treasure drove. La femme exclaims spontaneously “after a barren stretch of apples we now are apple barons”.

Eysperac is tiny with only one hotel and one gite. Everything is very quite. It seems the French have disappeared. We have seen very few people these past three days. Only four couples staying at the hotel. After the hustle and bustle of London it is quite nice….The demi-pension dinner was just OK – a bottle of the local Marcillac did hit the spot

BACK ON THE CAMINO

Espalion – Estaing: 12.5 kms - Monday

Stolen apples are the sweetest. They say the Camino giveth. If so, we have taketh. Within the first two miles out of Espalion we have eaten 8 apples from different trees along the path. So the next leg of our journey begins….
It is good to be back walking. Today was a half day. Bus from Rodez to Espalion and begin at 1pm. A bit chilly and overcast, but a beautiful stroll with only one short, steep uphill stretch. Three hours. Just enough to get the walking legs accustomed to the routine.

The most unusual part of the day was when we passed farmers tending their crop picking machine – to pick leaves, it appeared. We could not devine the crop. They were collecting big leaves….For one of those heavenly French salads? Pas possible…Les mentioned tobacco, but, nah didn’t seem likely.. Later that evening one of our dinner companions mentioned if we had seen the farmers collecting the tobacco crop….Mon Dieu! I know they smoke like fiends, but did you know they also grow the stuff? They probably even have an AOC system for it.

Very few walkers appear to be on the Camino. It is late in the season. We passed 6 walkers and only about 10 or so have arrived at Estaing. Estaing is a beautiful village with a 12th Century chateau dominating the town. There is a good restaurant in the village but it is Monday and everything is closed. Dinner is at the Chambre d’ Hotes where we are staying. The madam does not normally cook for her guests (maybe just on Monday). It is obvious. The only good thing was the wine made by the proprietor – a blend of Grenache and Cabernet. Oh well…

FOOD – Sunday, September 26th

England gets a bad rap. The food scene in London is second to none. We ate in some fabulous places this past week – as we have on prior trips.

However, we ate at one unusual spot on Wednesday night – Saltoun Supper Club. This is a so called “closed-door restaurant”. This place is run by Arno out of his little flat in Brixton – second floor up some rickety steps into a small room with four tables. The kitchen is tiny. But the very intense Arno cooks up a storm for 30 GBP – twice a week. Three hours and five courses (with only a couple of food mistakes {he did not peal the fiber off the snow peas)) later we left quite satisfied with our find…..It will be hard to eat here in the future. The New York Times was coming the following evening to write up a story..…Just note we found it first.

Other great meals included Bocca di Lupo (picture is me eating partridge); Terroirs (French small plates); Zucca (best new Italian find); The Anglesea Arms (gastrobpub where I ate grouse with wild mushroom in puff pastry – unbelievably good); Barrafina (Spanish tapas); and, of course snacks at the Borough market. When we left this morning Les and I realized we did not eat Indian food – a major faux pas…

Enough of London. We are in Rodez. It is cold, but who cares, tomorrow afternoon we start walking from Espalion. The bags are ready…

London

LONDON – Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Cockfosters. That’s how you enter London. Hop on the Piccadilly line at Heathrow and immediately realize that even though English is spoken it’s not quite the same. Can’t imagine the Religious Right or their Tea party cousins allowing such blasphemy on the public transit system…. But I digress. This is about travel, not politics. I get enough of that at home.

I love London. Always have. The history, the culture, the humour, and lately the food. But its language may be the most interesting. Very literal and descriptive. Fascinating to listen to and incomprehensible when spoken over the Tube loud system…

It is a city sans Exit signs as I first discovered 32 years ago when I was got lost in an Underground station until I found the way out. That time I stayed on a sailboat on the Thames next to the Tower of London. This time we are in a great flat near Covent Garden with our friends David and Chris.

We have been here many times. This time doing a few new things. Today went to Hampton Court – Henry VIII’s small country home. Afterwards, a 7 mile walk along the Thames to Richmond. Not the way tourists usually return. But then again we ain't tourists we’re travelers – and walkers at that…

Already stopped in the British Museum, British Library, Tate Modern, National Gallery, and the National Portrait Gallery. They are amazing places and best of all – free. Right up my alley..…A couple of plays seen and good food eaten…..Lots more to come

Posting pictures of obvious places. Guess them all and you need read no more. At least about London