hike day 15: auvillar

spotted a couple of deer bouncing across rolling hills of wheat fields before the morning mist had burned away. just the birds and i. very peaceful.

stopped for the night in the old vicarage of lectoure, yet another superb little town with a grab-bag full of architectural goodies dating back to the middle ages. not much is open though. this is typical of villages and small towns in france. i'm guessing it's because they tend to cater so much to tourists on weekends that they need the extra day off. marie-claude, ai-je vise juste?

hike day 14: saint-martin

sunday...another steamy hot, sunny day in le midi and an anniversary to celebrate as i look back 14 days and over 430 km ago to my first steps out of le-puy-en-velay. hard to believe how quickly the time and mileage have blown by, almost as surprising as the vastly different scenery from one region to the next.

stopped in the town of moissac in the morning for un grand bol de cafe au lait and a croissant only to find the cental square buzzing with the most enormous market filled with temptations to sway even the staunchest of resolves. of course, it didn't take long before the cheese merchants captured my attention with their ginormous barrels of every lip-smacking cheese imaginable. the moissac cathedral is simply stunning.

the path wound down to the real first stretch of flat ground since i began my trek. it was a riverside stroll along la garonne lined with endless rows of magnificent giant platane trees. i eventually hung my hat at a spectacular midieval vicarage turned reno'd inn high in spectacular auvillar. the heart of the village is a triangular area of XIIIth century arcade-style buildings where the birds and shadows have plenty of nooks and crannies in which to play games. also featured is a type of midieval gazebo construction dominating the elegant triangle. those midieval urban planners really had it going onnnn! now take all of this art, history, beauty...then erect a double-stacked mother of a nuclear plant a mere 10 km away and you have one of the oddest cultural and geographical juxtapositions imaginable.

mum's the word

the french countryside offers up a cornucopia of wafting aromas worthy of a king's ransom. as me mum used to remark when i was but knee-high to a grasshopper, "now breathe in deeply children." my brother and i never figured out how a skunk in full fight or flight could elicit the identical response from her. i have long since ceased asking why and resign myself instead to the reality that mom's standards of olfactory excellence rest on a different plane than the rest of we earthlings! :^}

hike day 12: cahors

had a dining experience in cahors fit for the gods last night. the meal started with a generous platter of the most scrumptious cold cuts followed by a delish braised chicken with mixed veggies on the side. now all of this was going down quite nicely with the local trappist monks' beer but the bar was raised a few notches with the arrival of the cheese platter. a half-dozen of the most phantasmagorical cheeses of various shapes and sizes landed at our table. num num num...some local sweet melon capped the meal nicely. ohhhhhh yeahhhhh baby!

took my leave of lovely cahors through its spectacular bridge and began a fairly arduous hike up up and away. half way up the cliff, i discovered another hiker who had somehow fallen over and the weight of her bag had wedged her in a rock gully on the edge of the cliff! precariously perched, to say the least. she was in such a tizzy that it hadn't occured to her to unsnap her knapsack to get herself out of her bind. such was my good samaritain move of the day.

after a steamy but much less mountainous day of hiking, i reached my evening destination. me voici maintenant, les deux pieds fermement plantes en plein dans montcuq. trust me, i am certainly not the only person deriving perverse and juvenile pleasure in the knowledge that without pronouncing the letter "q", the name of the place literally turns into "MyAss"!! thus the translation for the above: here i stand, both feet firmly planted in MyAss!! noone seems to pronounce the "q" in the village, honestly! everyone is walking around here talking about their own asses. what up??

hike day 10: marcilhac-sur-cele

some days you so badly want to put your bag down that you know you can't...for it will be twice as heavy when you put it back on again. somehow my brain got stuck on a loop of that sarah silverman spoof "i'm f---ing matt damon3! thanks for that lisa!

1, 2, 3 spiders gliding across my cheeks...no this is not the intro to some freakazoid arachnophile story. that is typically the number of spikders that landed on my face before i got around to wiping them off. because this part of the path is so little traveled (no doubt due to its difficulty), it was like a cobwebs shooting gallery where they came at me in rapid-fire succession. itsy bitsy spider up the nostril spout...

in the end, i was rewarded with some spectacular vistas over saint-cirq-lapopie, a midieval throwback to the brutal days of the french revolution when "les oubliettes" were cast into the mountain dungeon that still towers over the village to this day. "les oubliettes" zere "the forgotten ones" or prisoners who were sent careening to their death into the dungeon pit full of guillotine-like blades. this little nugget was delivered with such good humour and reverence by a local that i gave him my best "eeee-yewww" look. to this, he responded "mais alors quoi? on est en france. on tranche les tetes des rois pour un rien! (translation: what?? this is france after all. even kings' heads will roll on a dime!" ahhhh ces francais. zut alors!

hike day 9: beduer

what a gorgeous deviation along the gr651. on one side are stunning rocky cliffs of dizzying heights and on the other the meandering cele river with its sweet lullaby. a group of peregrine falcons rode the thermals a dozen metres away and aside from the gaggle of rabbits, i had the whole place to myself. ahh, que de beaute.

made my way through rugged mountain terrain to st-sulpice with nary another pilgrim in sight. this quaint little village's claim to fame is the half-dozen "troglodyte" houses that levitate between heaven and earth as they hang off the high cliffs. it is as though someone or something got down to the task of carving them out of the cliffside, then in a 3 century fit of procrastination left them half finished. consequently, they look like half houses precariously perched on the cliffs. also, the houses have been modernized with all manner of architectural trills so the clash of eras is striking against a backdrop of charcoal and rust coloured cliffs. what an extraordinary feat of engineering.

to cap the day, i threw together a simple pasta with the most divine blue cheese sauce. if heaven is the kingdom of cheese, then i'd best start making good with my maker now!! of course rumour has it that the camino cleanses you of all sins. i figure since this is my second year in a row hiking it, there's a heavenly cornucopia of curd somewhere out there with my name on it!

sainte-eulalie

yesterday morning i followed a red herring near sainte-eulalie and found myself inauiring for directions of a kindly madame breakfasting in her garden. quite aside from setting me straight, she generously insisted i pull up a chair and join her for coffee. once she realized i hadn't yet eaten, she pulled out a veritable shmorgasbord of homemade breakfast gateaux and jams and a spectacular platter of cheeses! what a feast and a lovely chat as well.

if connections such as these are what it's all about, then maybe i've found a small part of what i came here looking for.

solo?

few are fellow pilgrims whom i meet that have undertaken this voyage solo. many local folks look behind me, past me, searching for another backpacker before asking incredulously "mais vous etes seule?" my stock reply is that you are never really alone for you meet so many locals and other pilgrims along the way. they can't believe it and often suggest i must be very "couragious".

that kind of comment must come from a somewhat cynical view of the world where one must have someone else on whom to rely in the event of a mishap. seems to me if you live in anticipation of a shitstorm, then it shall be served up on a silver platter. anyway, people are by nature helpful and so i believe perfect strangers can be relied upon in an emergency.

another frequent question that comes my way is "don't you get lonely?" truth be known, i am only too happy in my own company during the day, occupying my thoughts with everything and nothing, working hard to reign them in to focus on the present. if i meet people along the way or in the evening, that is enough socializing to sustain me. call me weird if u will (a little touch of quirk never hurt anyone!)

everybody hurts...someplace

funny thing this pilgrimage business. you leave with the vague notion of disconnecting, elevating your soul yet the first thing you discover is your body. shoulders, a pair of arms, toes and an incalculable number of bits and bobs that suddenly begin to make themselves heard. everyone doesn't hurt everywhere but everyone has at least one ache, one sore, one challenge.

young guys are the worst as their unshakeable self-confidence and sense of competition pushes them to greater speeds and distances and ultimately straight into tendonitis or the biggest blisters known to mankind.

most pilgrims look upon any extra mileage off the waymarked path as heresy , their arch-enemy. whether as a result of getting lost or intentionally detouring, i view it as part of a richer experience for it is that extra km that leads you to some of the rarest gems, be it a cheese farm, a hidden valley or a heartwarming exchange of cultures.

hike day 7: cheesy kingdom

just before hitting figeac, i turned a km off the beaten track upon spying a sign for a cheese farm. the maitre fromagier (read "the big cheese"!) led me through a taste tour of her dozen cheeses, each with its own distict flavour and texture.

while i presented a polite, inquisitive and attentive front, somewhere in the deepest recesses of my lizard brain screamed "gimme Gimme GIMME NOW!!!" honestly, can you think of a better way to kick-start a monday morning?

hike day 7: conques

fairly arduous hike first thing to get up and out of the conques valley. i have taken of late to hanging out in village churches between 12 and 3, not because i've discovered my latent devout self but rather because the heat is so intense in le midi that the coolest place in town is actually inside the churches. all locals siesta in the afternoons so when in rome...

not too many options for accomodations in this area, meaning another night under the stars.

conques, le conte de fee!

OMG, this place has jumped right off the pages of a fairy tale. i am overnighting in a 9th century abbey that is inhabited and managed by catholic monks. the stone circular staircase is the kind where you never quite feel alone even though noone is visibly standing nearby or even within earshot. and of course, any self-respecting 9th century architect would build at least one secret passageway into the new abbey's stairwell! the village sits in a tight deep valley and every building looks the part. now i get where disney's inspiration came from!

supped in the abbey with the 40-strong members of the lourdes choir who gave a concert that very evening. told them my mom would go bananos over a vial of water from bernadette's grotto. ask and ye shall receive. mom, the water's in the mail!

some churches don't translate well into good musical venues for the natural accoustics confound the source sound with its own powerful echoes. the abbey however proved a gorgeous locale as the kyrie eleison's rose up, filling the cathedral with the voices of 200 angels. beautiful.

to further pad the ambience, i heard the sound of high-pitched screeching coming from inside the walls throughout the choir's performance. as i left the abbey, i spotted clusters of bats chasing each other from the cracks in the high midieval facade. spooooooooky!!

on adore les quebecois!

what good fortune that i took the alternate GR6 route to the GR65! stopped for a stellar coffee in campuac, only to meet a new mom from vaudreuil near montreal who was visiting her in-laws, the bar owners. how could i refuse an invitation to join them for lunch, particularly when genevieve's brother-in-law is a chef?!! the spread consisted of very typical old-style french fare, though somewhat challenging, even by my standards. when the calf's head was served on a platter surrounded by rich veggies, what to do?!! and the pigs' knuckes and tripe, all doused in oodles of sauces and creams? mmmmm, deslish though. and of course the wine. it's a wonder i didn't kill myself on the hike that ensued! god, the french love their quebecois cousines and for this, i am eternally grateful!

hike day 6: estaing

note to self: lead with walking stick to avoid indiana jones style face full of cobwebs. that would be the prize for trailblazing through the alternate yet more scenic GR6 to espeyrac. quite the varied terrain, but mostly in remote country paths which farmers clearly use to shepherd their bovines to and fro. consequently, the din was astonishing from swarms of flies buzzing around multitudes of cow pie (there it is again, all roads leading to pie!!) the good news: they weren't the biting variety. the downside: they live only to find a nice comfy orifice in which to lay their eggs. further to a short gestation period, i may just give birth to either ArachnaBoy or Lord of the Flies.

la lingua franca

after 6 days of total immersion in france where not a single word of english has passed my lips, my brain has flicked the switch and i am now thinking en francais. love it, ca fait du bien! i only hope the transition to spanish is as painless - michelina, a cuando nuestra cena para praticar la idioma?!!

while i seem to have the language thing licked, it is taking me a bit longer to exorcise my culture and city. case in point, upon awakening this morning to the sound of a bell clanging in the distance, i caught myself imagining an old polish man in his knife sharpening truck rather than the bell's true bovine owner!

hike day 5: l'estrade

one step at a time ever descending through rocks and creeks and mud. ahhhh, the pungent smells of the forest while a gentle mist hung above the earth as if conjured straight out of a witch's cauldron. then suddenly the path emerged out in the open before a sign boasting that saint-come-d'olt is one of france's loveliest towns. though the competition is stiff, i couldn't agree more. actually, this section of the trail - though rugged and demanding due to the constant mountain ascents/descents - has the most charming midieval villages. in fact, the other two larger towns (espalion and estaing) on today's trail were also straight out of a travel brochure. estaing's showpiece was the superb castle overlooking the river lot where ex president giscard d'estaing is said to summer. if the south of france is where i was looking for razzle and dazzle, it didn't take long for me to find it! then i ran into my gaspesie friends simon et guillaume...at the village bakery bien sur, refuleing. this was getting to be a habit!

hike day 4: gentianes

what varied terrain! the morning started with a steady climb through farmers' pastures parcelled off on rolling hills. then came a near 1000 metre ascent-descent in forested paths with a steady diet of rock-hopping through streams of mountain run-off. (if i was a mountain goat in a previous life, sadly my chevre talents don't extend to spontaneous cheese production!) by the time i hit my destination, i wasn't yet ready to hang up my hiking boots so i just kept walking knowing my emergency camping gear would be making its first appearance. the verdict, with a little mcguyver savvy and no rain, all good!

la tarte et encore la tarte!

somebody pinch me: i'm either dreaming most exquisitely or my third shakrah has levitated to a higher plane. my gastronomic home runs are flying so fast and furious i can barely keep track. how about we begin with a dazzling and decadent croissant a l'amandine that had my eyes popping out of my head over breakfast yesterday morning? or even its piping hot companion - a smooth yet deadly potent cafe au lait that soon had jet fuel coursing through my veins? (zeez french...zey mayk a mechant cup of coffee, n'est-ce pas?) i've likely already gone on long enough about the fine local cheeses but what of the marvelous chestnut spread i picked up from a farmer? propriety be damned, this was a job for one spoon, one sitting.

ahhhh, but the prize, the crown jewel, the mother of all things palette-pleasing snuck up on me today at the stroke of noon in the village square of aubrac where the cows are the prettiest eye-shadow wearing animals you´ve ever seen. completely oblivious to the fate lady luck had in store for me, i unloaded my knapsack at an outdoor cafe in search of something with which to whet my whistle. and there, to my amazement and suddent excitement lay the three biggest, motherest, most lip-smacking tarts i have ever laid eyes on! i instantly began salivating like one of pavlov's dogs. the first was an apple crumble, the second an apple custard and the third a mile-high bumbleberry. que de beaute divine, i nearly fell on my knees in thanks. now what could be better than an oasis of tarts on a long hot hike? (me, me, pick me - i have the answer in my back pocket!) why, a heaping slice of bumbleberry tart the size of new york state of course! messieux, dames, lunch is served.

hike day 3: finieyrols

looooong hike today: 42.5 km. it's always the last half kilometre that damn near kills you. what is it that kanye said? 3dat dat dat dat dat don't kill me can only make me stronger"! still plenty of mud and flooding but the sun was out, the birds orchestrated fine symphonic overtures and the wildflowers put on a veritable show.

very happy to report france trumps spain in the hygiene department when it comes to inns. all accomodations thus far have been uber-clean. strangely though, spain's camino is wayyyy more connected than france's. finding an internet cafe is no easy task and when you do, they're anything but cheap. weird...

poo

one of the small villages i crossed yesterday was named "chier". for the uninitiated, this is a french colloquialism signifying taking a dump, pinching a loaf, popping a poo. imagine if this were your return address! this simply wouldn't happen in canada. except in newfoundland...alongside blackhead, placentia bay and dildo arm. anyhow, i digress.

hike day 2: le sauvage

my exit out of monistrol was a straight-up switchback climb out of the valley to rise above the rain clouds. the respite was only momentary though. all day long, a deluge of rain, the mountain path turned to a river and mud half way up to your knees. little to do but damn the torpedoes and forge a path dead centre.

i thank my lucky stars for some hangtime zith a couple of hysterical viennese and swiss dudes who saved the day over a fantastic aubrac region goulash dinner with a few bottles of local red.

hike day 1: le-puy-en-velay

it was a good day for walking as the skies spat down a light cool drizzle. will i get stuck down in the fires of hell for missing the morning mass and blessing in le puy's cathedral? the risk was well worth it to get a jump on the other pilgrims on the road. so i'm an instant gratification grrl, deal with it.

anyway, i had a date with my friend marie-claude from bretagne to meet her on the road. we spent a lovely afternoon together hiking through pastoral scenes, gorgeous wildflowers and birds, farms and forests, crossing goat farms along the way. goats=goat's cheese=yummalicious lunch! marie-claude and i eventually met her peeps bruno et aline as we all chatted our way into monistrol.

this lovely riverside village is nestled in a valley surrounded by the high cliffs of le massif central. the entrance into the village is heralded by a bridge conceived in 1890 by none other than gustav eiffel, architect of paris' sentinel. our man gustav was clearly ahead of his time but not so visionary as to imagine large transports crossing his design. hence, many are the marks and gashes marring the inside of the bridge where large trucks attempted the crossing, managing only to hopelessly wedge themselves in!

i bid bruno, aline and marie-claude adieu, then turned my attention to my inn's roomies. a dozen grenoble residents and i broke bread over the region's local dish: lentils and far, sausage with cheese and home grappa. yummm! by dinner's end, my new french friends looked to me for my best impression of the latest "tetes a claque" skits! une soiree tout a fait sympa!

mommy, i shrank the car

le-puy-en-velay: a stunning 6th century town paved in the kind of cobblestone i'd challenge you to find at the Home Depot. it also happens to be the trailhead for my trek and stars as attractions the usual suspects: town square, tall stone walls, tudor-style houses and the quintessential ancient cathedral. strangely though, the cathedral centrepiece is a black virgin mary: who knew?

as i strolled around exploring impossibly narrow and winding streets, i spotted a car lurching around a very tight corner, then bunny-hopping to a stop: the driver - who didn't even sport enough peach fuzz to respectably call it a beard - was visibly concerned with the geometry of his car in relation to the corner. easing it into reverse, he inched backwards, glanced across his shoulder? then somehow hit the gas. the midieval wall clearly weighed in as the victor in that battle. with a few chunks of history strewn on the ground and an entire bumper freed of its daddy, i'd say the dude definitely flunked that geometry class.

the civilized way!

i'm in love...with the french rail system, that is. what else whisks you out of the city in minutes flat and flies you through the poppy-strewn countryside in the lap of luxury at speeds of up to 320 km/hr? wowww...

the party begins

marching, dancing and hollering in front of la gare de lyon was an enormous party of revellers, their faces painted in french colours and waving the flag. at first i figured it was all about the euro cup but i soon stood corrected. who knew basketball was such a big deal in france? the party was in full swing inside the station where the volume was off the charts. it was all good-naturedly raucous until the party spilled over onto one of the tracks. a number of police instantly materialized, a few punches were thrown and before i knew it, some of the partyers were being escorted into a paddy wagon. the moral of this story: party as hard as you like, only don't mess with our train schedule.

switching gears

as i strolled to the train station, i could sense myself mentally switching gears into hiking mode. i am much looking forward to abandoning the hustle and bustle of paris in exchange for wide expanses of countryside and mountains. how lucky am i to be in a position to pull this off?

i had a visitor this morning while sipping on a bowl of cafe au lait. from the first sentence she uttered, this dane was evidently bursting to tell someone, anyone. seems she'd been in a bike accident some years before - i swear i will never again ride without a bike helmet! - and had been drawn to paris to attend a "handicap conference" as she called it. there she introduced her invention: a kitchen implement for people with limited hand control. while i was happy for her and the success of her brainchild, i couldn't help but thank my lucky stars for the relative ease with which my trip plans had come together. how much more difficult - if not impossible - would this hike have become, given some of the challenges faced by my danish friend.

scooter nation

with a price tag at the pumps roughly twice that of its canadian counterpart, little wonder that france is a nation of scooters and bikes. in fact, paris' main train stations all boast of enormous parking lots exclusively for scooters. also, a number of main arteries have been re-engineered to accomodate dedicated bike lanes. every couple of blocks, you will find fleets of self-serve bikes - no old beaters found here, we're talking relatively new, well-maintained hybrids - where a visa or monthly membership card is all it takes to unlock your trusty steed for a few hours. then, you simply return it to the fleet of your choice anywhere in the city. brilliant!

mind you, i'm still not sure i would risk life and limb riding a bike in a city like paris. as pepe le pew once said, "zeez french pee-poll and zayr cars...zay are cray-zee, no?" ok, so i might have taken a some artistic license with that quote...

pie, Pie and MORE PIE!

sunday morning i awoke feeling verrrry excited. jumped out of bed and set out in search of a cafe au lait. the locals weren't quite as keen as i for the streets were all but deserted at 7.30 am...except for this one little bakery where the lineup extended outside the premises and right around the block.

bakeries are to paris as banks are to north american cities in their corner real estate monopoly of major intersections. call it a lifestyle choice if you will. i call it a good thing. how the other two bakeries manage to eek out a living with the grand pubah of quality baked goods sitting pretty across the street remains a mystery to me. well, "when in rome", so they say.

was a 20 minute lineup worth the wait? let me tell you about the palette-tickling chevre quiche with a mixed berry torte chaser! ho ho, that's it. i'm packing my bags and calling paris home. more specifically, i am moving directly above that rocking bakery. though hmmmmm...on second thought, my anticipated volume of quiche and pie consumption might prove an issue to the structural integrity of the building. note to self: give further thought to a sound pie strategy.

gay paris, official start of my big adventure!

the red-eye delivered me to paris' doorstep saturday moning just as markets were beginning to buzz. all that fabulous cheeeeeese...yummm.

got settled into a cute little b&b kitty corner to the city's most famous cemetary, le pere lachaise, which boasted of an impressive list of long departed residents the likes of eugene delacroix, max ernst, edith piaf and jim morrison to name but a few. a few days earlier, a friend (tip of the hat to you geor-g!) had so thoroughly dramatized oscar wilde's sordid and sorry tale that a visit to his resting place topped the list. a dandy in both life and death, even his gravestone was right off the scale in flamboyance.

my forays took me out to the 14th century place de la bastille, then down to paris' waterway artery, la seine. how is it possible to cram so much fantastic architecture in so few square kilometres? notre dame, sainte chapelle, the stunning hotel de ville...a mere stone's throw from the louvre and its pyramids, now landmarks in the post-davinci code era. as the sun set, i spotted l'arc de triomphe down the champs elysees as the eiffel tower hovered over the left bank.

one bridge after another shouted out the history of the city. pont neuf was the first of la seine's many bridges to outlaw the construction of houses on its surface. until 150 years ago, packing real estate into every last little nook and cranny was considered de rigueur. imagine living with the ever-present sounds of the river rushing underfoot and the frequent bellow of foghorns shaking the foundations over breakfast!

these days, the bridges are tourist attractions complete with artists, chochka hustlers and mimes. one frenchman even pledged his undying love to his girlfriend, proposing on the spot while cameras flashed all around and supportive friends and strangers sheered him on.

Leaving soon, soooooo excited!

in six days i will be heading into another big adventure. can't wait! will miss my friends and of course my kitties as i haven't yet managed to teach them how to email!