August 28 - September 4

Days 1 & 2 | August 28, 2022

Knowing your limits is very important in learning to walk (learning, to live, too). I realized yesterday that I could not continue to carry my pack. I made it, but I think it was the most physically taxing day of my life!

But back to the beginning of yesterday—which feels like a very long time ago now! I made it to the 7 am Pilgrim’s mass at the Cathedral at 7:15. Which is okay, because it’s all in French so I have to just do my own praying and meditating anyway—until something comes along that I recognize, like the Apostles’ Creed or the Sanctus or the Lord’s Prayer, then I join in in English. I always struggle with whether or not to go up for communion when I am in an RC church. I know I’m not supposed to. I know I’m not welcome to partake in the RC church. The theology is very different, but I really struggle with this. Sometimes I end up taking communion to make a statement—even if I’m the only that knows I’m making it. And that’s not really a good reason to take communion. I always find myself saying, “but this is for me, too. It’s for all of us.” I usually take communion when I am with our Italian family in Italy, because Elena makes a point of saying, “you can go, too, Beverly.” And if it feels like a fairly open service and open-minded priest, I will go up. But yesterday was not the case. They made a point of inviting ONLY those who are Roman Catholic and go to mass weekly. Anyone else could come up for a blessing if they wanted to. Nope. If I’m not welcome at your table, I don’t really want your blessing. Ouch. That was harsh, but that’s what came to my mind. When we do the invitation in the Presbyterian Church, we often say, “this is not our table, but Christ’s table and all are welcome.” Well, yesterday, they made it very clear that though they may think it is Christ’s table, it is really their table because not everyone is welcome. Enough of that. After the service I went to get my compostella (stamp) from a lovely sister, who sounded Irish. She had been in West or East Orange with her order before coming to Le Puy to serve there just a very short while ago. As far as I’m concerned if there’s anything that can pull the RC church into a more liberated, inclusive, accepting era it will be the sisters.

Speaking of which, here is a funny story from today (a slight diversion from yesterday). There have been blackberry bushes along the way, which provide for a delightful snack. As I had stopped to pick a few this morning, there was another walker doing the same. We said hello, and he asked me, “are you a sister?” Meaning , a nun. “No” I replied. “Oh, people are saying you are a sister walking the Camino because you wear this,” pointing to my long Macabi hiking skirt. “And because you stopped at the cross and crossed yourself.” Did I? Perhaps. I have been stopping at a lot of the crosses that mark the way, and once in a blue moon that seems like the appropriate thing to do. I guess my long skirt and my long-sleeved sun protection makes me look like a nun. I am definitely not winning ANY style points. But Macabi skirts are so comfortable to walk/hike in, and they are full of the most useful pockets. We continued talking and I told him I was not Catholic but Protestant and a Presbyterian Minister. I hadn’t planned on announcing that, but it came into the conversation naturally. He said “I am Protestant, too, but not Presbyterian. You are Calvinist right?” I said, “of a sort. That was certainly our roots.” As we parted ways he said, “you may not be a sister, but you are my sister,” which was very sweet. In the reading I have done, it is clear that there is an active news network/grapevine among pilgrims. I have named it Chemin News Network (CNN), and in Spain it will become Camino News Network. I think it’s funny that after just one day of walking, the word was spreading that I was a sister walking the Camino.

Back to yesterday and learning my limits. I realized that in order to continue I was going to have to send my pack ahead with the transport company. Anne, the wonderful host at last night’s gite helped me make arrangements for my pack to be transported for the next five days. I’ll decide if I want to try again at that point. I am SO glad I did that. It made all the difference in the world just to be walking with my day pack today. Leaving Le Puy yesterday was a long, uphill slog. There were a few sections of lovely shaded forest paths, but for the most part there was no shade at all and the sun was HOT. But I made it. Almost collapsed upon arrival but a shower revived me some, did my laundry had an amazing dinner: another incredible salad that could have been a meal in itself, but was followed by sausage and lentils, a rice pilaf with lots of veggies, and an assortment of homemade cakes and tarts, and home made bread. This area is famous for its lentils. When you buy French lentils, this is probably where they come from. They melt in your mouth. I slept very well last night.

Started walking about 8:15 this morning. It was a spectacularly beautiful, but grueling walk. I’m addition to it being very hot—upper 80s—there were three very steep descents, one was a narrow path full of rocks, and the last on dirt, which was even worse because it was so steep your feet kept sliding on the dirt. But I did it. I didn’t fall and my knees are okay. Thank God for hiking poles and physical therapy to strengthen my knees. It wasn’t elegant, but it was an accomplishment.

I am now enjoying a post-shower, post-laundry, pre-dinner beer and battling a thousand flies. At least they are not mosquitos.

I have not had any desire to “plug in” to my earphones to listen to music or a podcast or a book. Just walking, and staying on my feet on the hard parts, and enjoying the beauty when I stop to look around is enough. And walking all day is a great opportunity to pray for people who have asked for prayers.

As I was going to sleep last night I thought, ‘why am I doing this? Do I really want to walk all the way to Santiago de Compostela?” But when I woke up this morning, I was ready to go. It was so beautiful when I started out, and I was eager to walk Not sure what tomorrow brings—other than a very long uphill climb to get out of Monistrol d’Alliers. It was a long hike down, and what goes down must come up. But at least I’ll just be carrying my day pack. As of this morning the forecast was for two days of rain starting tomorrow. That will be another adventure if it comes true.

The 30th of August - I think | August 30, 2022

I am starting to lose track of time, but my trusty Apple Watch has just confirmed that it is indeed August 30. Or 30 August if you are in Europe.

Interesting conversation last night with three younger people who knew just enough English for us to talk a bit. First we talked about New York City, which one of them had been to. We agreed that the food is too expensive but it is a crazy, amazing city. Then they asked if I had ever been to France before, and I told them twice, to Paris, but this was my first time outside of Paris. They said, “Paris is not France.” And I replied “just like NYC is not the United States!” They agreed. I am so glad that I am seeing a good portion of the “real France” at a walker’s pace.

I thought the climb out of Le Puy was a workout, and it was, but it was just a warm up for today’s climb out of Monistrol d’Allier. Oh my word. It took me 2 and a quarter hours of intense climbing. And lots of pauses. Looking at the elevation chart, it goes from just over 600 meters to over 1100 meters in 5 k. The line going up on that chart is pretty steep! I’m really glad I didn’t have to go down it. I had enough of that yesterday! Once it finally leveled off, the walk was across a relatively flat (gently undulating) plain. It continues to be spectacularly beautiful.

The climb this morning was only one of today’s challenges, the other was of a completely different sort: the two-week motorcycle race followed me from Le Puy to Saugues. The cross country part of the race was set up adjacent to the Chemin path. And they shared the same path for a short distance as the path broadened to meet and cross the main road. I almost got hit by one as it turned off the main road onto the path, and once I got into the town itself, you had to be very careful crossing the roads as they roared by. I sure hope I get out of this tournament’s path soon!

Our host tonight, Jesus (I think originally he is from Spain) asked if I was a sister when I arrived. Another woman, my roommate tonight who was at the same Gites I was the first night, had arrived shortly before I did, and she said, “no, she is not a sister, she is a Protestnat minister. There will be no flying under the radar on this walk. So Jesus immediately said that I would give the benediction (blessing) at dinner. So I did. In English, very slowly (at their request) to an all French-speaking group. Jesus prepared a feast, as most hosts here do: a lovely carrot and veg soup, followed by a heaping plate of noodles and beef bourguignon, followed by salad and cheese, followed by pudding, and bread and wine. Too much food! Delicious, but too much. It feels like it would be very rude to refuse it and not finish what’s on your plate. Everybody eats it all. I guess I am fueled up for my 20 k day tomorrow. My longest yet, but no significant ascents or descents so it should be okay. They say after about three days you get your Camino legs. That makes it sound like they are delivered to you by an angel, or Santa Claus. I’ll let you know if mine arrive tomorrow. I have a feeling mine might be delayed by a day or two.

I was going to try and share some photos from the end of the day yesterday, but once again it is taking too long for them to upload, so I’ll try to share just a few from today.

Learning to Walk Day 4 | August 31, 2022

An interlude: news from home. My daughter sent me photo last night saying, “post this on your blog, Mom.” It was a photo labeled “Family Dinner” with her and several friends. Getting a photo that I can share, and seeing the smile on her face is the best gift a Mom could get from her 18 year old who just started college. So here it is:

Now for Day 4: My longest day yet, 20 k (14 miles on my Apple Watch). I thought it was going to be a relatively flat day, since we were walking across the Margeride Plateau, but I was surprised by the long uphill walk out of Saugues, and another long uphill walk through the woods before arriving at Le Domaine Sauvage. They weren’t the steep climb of yesterday, but fairly long uphills none the less. But I made it! My feet and legs are sore, but so far I remain blister-free, thanks to Injinji toe sock liners under Darn Tough socks. Best investment in socks I ever made.

This area is known as the Gevaudan and remains very sparsely populated. Centuries ago it was known for beasts and brigands. It was easy to imagine both as I walked through the forest alone! I just happened to be in-between walkers and had the forest to myself. The Beast of Gevaudan is one of the symbols/mascots of this area. From 1764-68 the beast terrorized the area, killing about 60 peasants. Maybe it was a super-wolf or a lynx—the images of it that you see all over the area look like a big, bad wolf from the fairytales. A peasant finally killed it and took the carcass to the king as proof.

Domaine le Sauvage, where I am staying tonight, is an isolated gite, in the middle of this high plateau surrounded by forest. It is quite famous and a popular stop along the Chemin Le Puy. It is centuries old and has gone through various incarnations and owners, but has been a refuge for pilgrims off and on. It is also associated with the Knights Templar—one of their headquarters as they provided protection for the region. When I came out of the forest, finally on a flat path, I could see it more than a mile in the distance. Such a welcome sight! As it must have been for pilgrims centuries ago.

After taking care of the daily chores upon arrival: showering, washing and hanging out clothes, the most refreshing thing of the day is cold beer. I normally drink very little, but under these circumstances a beer is the best taste in the world.

I keep thinking I should be having profound spiritual insights. Isn’t that what a pilgrimage is all about? But actually, what seems to be happening is just emptying my mind out. During the day, I am mostly just focused on putting one foot in front of the other, then pausing every once in a while to soak in the beauty I am walking through. It is fun to pass other pilgrims I have stayed with along the path. There is a couple walking with their dog, Sonny. We stayed at the same gite last night. And there a lot of other familiar faces. And a farewell meeting with my roommate from last night who I probably won’t see again. She stopped about 8 km before I did today, and is only walking until Friday. It was fun to see her one last time as I passed her gite and she was outside enjoying a drink. I am not getting as familiar with other pilgrims as I would if I spoke French. I did meet up with a couple from Colorado today, and we are staying in the same place tonight. I don’t expect people to speak English when I am in France, but it is nice to meet up with Americans and Australians now and then and be able to have a conversation in a language in which we are both fluent!

So, no great spiritual revelations. I’m not sure there will be any. But emptying my head of the stress and worry that has filled the last six years since the former guy was elected, and all the transitions we have been through at church, and COVID, is very welcome. I know the outside world is still there. I am checking the headlines every day or so, and keeping up with Heather Cox Richardson’s posts—I figure that’s probably giving me most of what I need to know. I know there are still shootings happening every day in the US. I know the war in Ukraine and the fear over the nuclear plant is still there (thought I haven’t read the latest on that), but I am enjoying the luxury of escaping that for the most part. I wish everyone could have this experience of entering a different world, where your only task is to walk every day, where you are met with hospitality both on the path and off it and at the end of the day when you arrive at your destination, where you just have to put one foot in front of the other and you realize that it is possible for people to exist in peace, to support and encourage and greet one another as fellow human beings along the same path. I guess that’s my profundity for the day. Now let’s see if I can get some photos to upload.

Learning to Walk, Day 5 | September 1, 2022

Le Domaine Sauvage to Aumont-Aubrac. I made it. 29 km. It was supposed to be 28, but I got turned around and walked 1/2 k out of the way, and then had to walk back. Got to the Ferme Du Barry gite with just enough time to shower and wash today’s clothes before dinner. What ever possessed me to think I could handle 28 km on day 5???? I don’t think there is anything hurting that won’t recover with Advil and a night’s sleep. But I don’t have time or energy to tell you much about today. As all days, it was spectacular. Here’s a photo. And, good night!

Learning to Walk, Day 6 | September 2, 2022

Today was supposed to be 23 km, but my watch told me it was close to 26. Another long day, but, oh my, the Aubrac plateau is as breathtakingly beautiful as everyone who has gone before me reported. It was the first day of walking in rain. Rain was predicted for most of the day, with severe thunderstorms starting after noon. Instead, we had lovely, cool rain off and on this morning, then it got sunny with occasional clouds this afternoon. I didn’t mind walking in the rain, especially once I figured out how to mostly cover my daypack with the shopping bag I’d been keeping my food in.

Interesting conversation with a man I walked with for a short while. He commented on the fact that I wasn’t wearing my skirt today. I am quite famous for that long hiking skirt. He said his father did what I did, was an evangelical pastor, and when he turned 20 he left that church and found the Reformed church. Then he said, “Ah, it was freedom. Evangelical church has so many rules, and they think they have all the answers. If you don’t agree with them, they say, ‘it’s in the Bible’ and you are wrong and they are always right.” Yes. Us Reformed types don’t always get it right, but if you think you have all the answers, then I’m not sure that’s what faith is all about. Especially if your answers are from cherry-picked Bible verses that don’t take into account context or history or the fact that human beings and cultures change. It was nice to hear someone’s story about finding freedom in the Reformed tradition rather than just leaving church all together.

As was the case yesterday, WCs were hard to find! I hope they aren’t as sparse going forward. There was a gite that had a cafe at about 10km so I welcomed the chance to stop for 20 minutes, enjoy a cafe au lait and slice of apple cake, take my shoes and socks off and put my feet up. It feels SO good to let your feet breathe every 10 km or so! I headed off again across a very wild and isolated part of the plateau—most of the time walking on a narrow path between fences. Aubrac cattle are famous. And beautiful. And plentiful along this path. There was one short stretch between fenced in areas, where you had to climb stiles, and you were walking right among the cows. I only saw one bull all day, and he was safely fenced in, and could care less that humans were walking by.

Near the end of the day I heard a chittering noise and looked back and two stoats were having a furious game of chase across the field. They were SO cute! They didn’t seem to notice me and ran closer and closer, all of sudden realized I was there, stopped, scampered into the rock wall, then poked their heads out the other side to check me out. I got my camera out and tried to film them but they scampered away too quickly. I wish I had captured that for you. It was also a great day for hawk watching. It was windy up there, and they would flap and stay in one place in the air, like treading water, scouting for food I think, then take off. You could hear their calls all day. It was a magical walk.

When I got to the gite where I am staying, Maison Rosalie in Montgros, he handed me a key and told me where my room was. I thought, “a key?” No one has given me a key to a dormitory room before. And when I opened the door it was a single. I had forgotten that when I booked this back in May she had responded that she had a single available, and I took it. It is HEAVEN to have my own room!!! I think that happens again in about a week. And I think I will have to treat myself as the walk goes on to my own room once a week or so.

After my stop for coffee and cake, there wasn’t anywhere else for lunch that I passed by, so I finally found a tree with a nice place to sit in its shade, sat on my raincoat and had my lunch of cheese, bread and some of that date loaf I told you about the other day. I’ll finish up the cheese tomorrow and will have to find more, or something else for picnics after that. That’s really all I need in the middle of the day. I would have thought I needed to eat a lot more as I walk, but I don’t. Just a couple of snacks and a light lunch, then I indulge in the dinners they serve us! After beef four nights in a row, it was nice to have a change this evening. Roasted pork. I have worked so hard to get my cholesterol down over the last few months, and had almost completely cut out beef and pork! But you have to eat what you are served, and I am going to enjoy it and get back to my regular healthier eating habits when I’m home. I thought I would catch you up on yesterday as well, but I realized that if I am always going back to play catch up, I may never get to the day at hand. So I’ll share some photos from today, and if I still have energy, a few from yesterday.

And I wanted to let those of you who are commenting on my posts know how much I appreciate your comments and the fact that you are following along. I may not get to respond to them all, but I think I am seeing them all, and I am grateful. Here are some photos from this spectacular day.

It was a very narrow, old bridge. With lots of fast traffic and some trucks. You had to wait until it was clear to scoot across. There were a couple of places where you could step aside to get out of the way—and take a photo of the river. A couple more km to go at this point.

Yes, it was as delicious as it looks. That’s feta wrapped in phyllo on top of the carrot salad, rice with vegetables and roasted pork, and the dessert—pear, chocolate and almond. It was divine. I ate every bite.

Okay, since I don’t have roommates tonight who are all trying to sleep by now I will share a few photos from yesterday. But only a few, I need to get to sleep myself!

Learning to Walk, Days 7 & 8 | September 3-4, 2022

First to catch up on yesterday. It looks like I may have no roommates tonight, so might be able to get yesterday and today written up after dinner. Yesterday was absolutely spectacular, but then they all are! My days are starting to run together, so I hope I can remember just what I walked through yesterday, and not confuse it with the day before! I may have to let the photos remind me and write captions.

About 2 km on from where I stayed in Montgros was the village of Nasbinals. They were having what I understand was their annual festival, which they had’nt been able to have in three years. It was fun to walk through—cows and bulls and chickens and produce, and it was also market day. I spent more time than I should have in the village—looking at the animals, the church, then searching for an ATM. You have to stock up on cash when you can. Most of the gites accept cash only so you have to be prepared. Also, I thought I had a shorter day than I did, or I would not have spent so much time in town. I made the same mistake today—thinking I had a short, easier day. Not so much. But more about today later.

Shortly after leaving Nasbinals the path enters open, high, grazing land for about 6-7 km. There was a sign before you entered telling you to be sure you closed any gates you opened, and telling you how to walk amongst cattle: 1) if a beast is lowering its head, snorting and stamping the ground, beware! It didn’t really give instructions on what to do if this happens, it just said to beware. 2) If you are close to the cows, walk around them leaving 20-50 meters distance between you and said cows. This was a little challenging when I had to pick a path between cows that didn’t allow for that much room, but they weren’t concerned about me. 3) If a cow comes towards you, walk calmly away, but do not turn your back on it. I did not have to put this instruction to practice. The cows really didn’t care that I was there. 4) Do NOT pet the calves!!! This is a hard one. If they get close enough to you to pet, one would be sorely tempted. But they had no desire to come close. The only bull I saw (photo below) was safely behind a barb wire fence. But again, none of the bulls I’ve seen have seemed to care that humans are walking by.

The landscape was just incredible. The walking was a bit challenging— it was not a lot of hills, but navigating tracks that had worn into narrow channels, and avoiding cow pies. But I wouldn’t mind another day of that landscape. After that it was a descent into Saint-Chely-d’Aubrac. Yet another narrow, stony, steep descent. All the villages in this area are built in the valleys, so you have to climb down into them, then climb back out.

Last night’s gite was a standout: Gites St. Andre in Saint Chely. The hosts are so welcoming and kind, and the food was, again, beyond delicious. There just aren’t enough superlatives for this country side and its food.

And now, what you’ve all been waiting for—last night’s dinner. I’ll let the pictures tell the story. It was one of the best of many good meals.

And now for today, Day 8. I essentially have my own room—the other two beds are empty, but I have to walk through the adjoining room to the bathroom, and there is someone in there. But at least I can close the door and stay up to write this. But not for long. I may have to shortchange today. I mistakenly thought, again, that I had a shorter, easier day. Nope. This was a very challenging day, made more difficult by the fact that I finished my cheese yesterday, didn’t really have anything for lunch except a peach and the granola ball things I bought at JFK, so I got pretty hungry.. I knew there was a challenging descent into St. Come d’Olt, where I am tonight, but I didn’t know that after that long, rocky descent, I would have to climb over another hill, walk a ways, and descend again. I just kept going and got the convent where I am staying just before four. My earliest arrival yet. There was nowhere to stop between St. Chely and St. Come except one little roadside shelter that had coffee set out. And even if there was a place to stop, nothing would have been open on Sunday.

I took SO many photos leaving St. Chely. It’s gorgeous. In fact, I spent so much the looking back at it that I missed my turn. There’s a lesson there. You have to stop and look back, but not to the extent that you miss the way forward.

My photos are taking longer and longer to upload, and I need to get to bed. I’ll try a few, but you may not get many of them tonight. And I’ll have to tell you about St. Come d’Olt tomorrow. And that’s all I can manage tonight. I think I am always going to be playing catch up.