51Our destination, Saint Gery, isn’t a model French village likethe gentrified Saint-Cirq, but like most French villages, it’sclean and well-kept. It’s not a popular stay-over town on theVia Podiensis, so there’s no gite. Instead, we’re staying at achambre d'hôte, the artsy Un Nid Pour La Nuit.The distinction between a chambre d'hôte and a gite issignificant, and we relished the opportunity to escape thebustling and communal atmosphere of a gite. The former isusually smaller, better equipped, and much quieter than agîte.Like at many other places we’ve stayed in, the owner was arelaxed, jovial thirty-something French guy who’d grown uplocally. He’d spent time working in England and thereforespoke fluent English—very uncommon in these parts of theworld. This made communication much easier. His wife wasthe arty one, and it showed in the tasteful wall art andinterior design. It’s always a pleasure to stay in a place wherethe owners have taken extra care to make theaccommodation unique and full of character.After examining the kitchen, Adeline, who is very fussy abouthygiene, found it to be clean and well-equipped. So, shedecided she’d make use of the opportunity and cook usdinner. After showering, we took a walk through the villageand bought gnocchi, gorgonzola, and desserts at a smallsupermarket. It was great to have home-cooked food again!This was the only time on the pilgrimage we prepared acooked meal ourselves – a treat on its own – and we lovedit.vWho were the saints so manyFrench towns are named after?SSaint Gery, Saint Cirq, Saint Eulalie. Who werethese saints that the towns we’ve passed throughare named after?The French often name their villages after Roman Catholicsaints whose histories—often a thousand or more yearsold—are cloaked in legend and mystery. Many of themlived during the twilight years of the Roman Empire, a timewhen Christians faced persecution. For this reason, theyare considered martyrs and recipients of sainthood.This was, for example, the case with Sainte Eulalie, wholived from 289 to 303. The Roman emperor Diocletiantortured and executed Sainte Eulalie, who was a Christiangirl from Barcelona. This era produced many saints, andpeople have venerated their relics ever since.Other personalities received sainthood for their service tothe church. An example is Saint Gery, also known as SaintGaugericus, who was born in 619 and was the bishop ofCambrai, a city in northern France. He established manychurches and abbeys—crucial during the early formativeyears of Christianity—and played a leadership role in thechurch of that time.Another more recent example is Saint Bernadette, wholived in the 1850s and is closely associated with a wellknown pilgrimage destination in France, Lourdes. Lourdeswas the starting point for our pilgrimage to Santiago deCompostela in 2015.
5218 DaySaint Gery – CahorsMore rain. And it doesn’t look like it’s going to letup. It’s not that walking in the rain is a problem—we have enough rain gear to keep moisture fromreaching our bodies. And we have covers for ourbackpacks. But the constant downpour takes away some ofthe pleasure of walking. We have to watch our steps all theway rather than taking the time to stop and enjoy thelandscape. We couldn’t help but wonder whether we weren’tlosing out too much.To escape the rain, we stopped at a covered terrace outsidea restaurant in the town of Arcambal, about halfway toCahors. Due to Labour Day, the first day of May, a nationalholiday in France, the restaurant was closed. However, theowner, who was busy inside the shop, felt sorry for us andbrought us coffee. He was truly an angel! There’s a sayingthat the Camino provides, and it rang true.The Lot River, swollen and on the verge of breaking itsbanks, ran alongside a hiking path for much of the routeafter Arcambal. The further we went, the wetter the footpathbecame, until a passing hiker alerted us that the path aheadwas flooded and not passable. This forced us to switch to avery busy tar road for a few kilometres, which was ratherunnerving.We were relieved when Cahors’ iconic stone bridge across
53the Lot finally came into view. The bridge leads into the oldtown of Cahors, and from there we still had to walk anotherhalf an hour before we reached the modern-looking youthhostel we were booked into.The stripped-down bedroom we were given on the third floorwas very basic, to say the least, and a disappointment afterthe comfortable stays of the past few days. In addition to itslack of cleanliness, its worn surfaces desperately needed afresh coat of paint.We took all our clothes downstairs to the hostel's laundromatto dry them out, as everything inside our backpacks hadbecome soaked despite our best precautions. Sadly, thelaundromat’s payment machine was out of order.Our only option was to lug our laundry to another laundromatquite far away across town. This time, we were able tosuccessfully clean and dry our clothes, but by this point, wewere exhausted.The youth hostel didn’t serve dinner, so we walked across thestreet to the four-star Best Western Hotel and had a meal attheir fancy restaurant. While we waited for our food, wediscussed our options for the following day.According to the weather forecast, there was still no sign ofthe rain letting up. We felt that walking for another day ormore in the rain wouldn't be enjoyable at all. What else wereour options?One option was to go by train to the city of Toulouse, wherethe weather was dry. That would give us a break from therain. We’ll spend two days there and then pick up the ViaPodiensis again in Moissac, our destination two days ahead.It felt a bit like sacrilege. Were we “cheating”? Up until now,we’ve maintained our rule of no transport and stuck to theprescribed route. On the other hand, our time was preciousand could be better spent in a city like Toulouse, which was,in any case, a stop on another pilgrim route, the ViaTolesana.It was worth the diversion, we felt.�Laundromats in France are remarkablereliable and always neat and clean. Themachines are fully automated, supply theirown washing power and only work withcredit cards, so no worries about smallchange.Hmm... not quite similar to the designerbedroom we had last night in Saint Gery.Fortunately, it’s only for one night...�
5419&20 DayCahors – ToulouseThe youth hostel in Cahors where we stayed wasacross the road from the rail station. That made itsimple to catch a train for the two-hour ride toToulouse. We stayed in a hotel we’d booked onlinethat was conveniently located next to the station and then setoff to explore the city. The best part was that for the first timein several days, there was no rain!We felt very out of place in a large city after so many daysspent walking through the countryside of beautiful ruralFrance. We stocked up on a few necessities for the road at anearby Decathlon, the Outdoor Warehouse of France. Adelineneeded new pants, and I bought an extra backpack cover tohelp keep the rain out. We sought out historic buildings thatare part of pilgrim heritage here in Toulouse, such as theHôtel-Dieu Saint-Jacques, built as a hospital for pilgrimsduring medieval times. We spent much time at the impressiveBasilica of Saint-Sernin, a grand church that hascontinuously attracted large numbers of pilgrims for morethan a thousand years due to its large collection of relics.The church even has a special passage behind the altarwhere rows of pilgrims could file past reliquaries on displayand not disturb the canons and church services.Admittedly, we behaved more like tourists than pilgrims. Andas tourists do, we wandered the streets of Toulouse, satdown in city parks with masses of colourful flowers and largefountains, sipped coffee in bars and cafés, and for a momentwe forgot that we still had a few hundred kilometres to walk.We deserved the break, and it helped us build up thecourage to set off and continue on the Via Podiensis.⊳Where to next? Planning our Toulousewalkabouts in Starbucks, our coffee homefrom home.�Serenity in the city... Square Boulingrin.
55Inside the cavernous Basilica Saint Sernin.We’d been inside dozens of churches andcathedrals by the time we completed thepilgrimage, but Saint Sernin is one of themost impressive, both in the size of thebuilding and the richness of its decorations.�
56BeersIt became a familiar daily ritual.After a day of slogging alongmuddy footpaths and long countryroads that stretched to thehorizon, we would walk, stagger, orlimp into our sleepover town,exhausted and with parched throats.Within the first twenty steps, we wouldlocate a bar or a small, hidden eateryand order two beers—a grande forme and un petit for Adeline. Most ofthe time our preferred beer was anartisanale blonde—locally brewedpale ale—found in most towns, butmore frequently in little hamlets.These thirst-quenchers came in bottlesand glasses with whimsical labels thatcelebrated local legends and icons.They often had mysterious names thatonly meant something to the localfolks.Beers at home are almost withoutexception bitter and dark. We muchpreferred the light, slightly sweet tasteof the very drinkable French blondes.If there was time left before the giteopened up at 3 pm—never a minuteearlier—we’d have a second round,especially on a hot afternoon.And no, I don’t recall us havingHeinekens or Castle Lagers.
57Having spent a lifetime in publishing and design, Iconsistently sought out the most inventive andentertaining beer bottle and glass labels. Therewere lots of them, but the prize must go to the,shall we say, sporty girl on the beer glasses in Carberets.Many designs have visuals of local culture in them, like thewhale on the bottles of Balea, a Basque craft beer (theBasque people were keen whalers back in the day).
5821 DayToulouse – MoissacThe train from Toulouse toMoissac, where we rejoin theVia Podiensis, takes only anhour, so we were in no rush toleave Toulouse. Both of us were lookingforward to restarting our walk again. Wemissed the road, our fellow pilgrims, andthe experiences that go with it. Theforecasts still showed some rain on theway, but the worst, it seemed, was over.Toulouse was fun, but it wasn’t ourfocus.Moissac was much smaller than weanticipated. It took no more than a fewminutes to walk from the train station toour chambre d’hôte. As usual, we weretoo early to check in, so we continued tothe village square in front of the 1500-year-old Moissac Abbey. It just sohappened that there was a celebrationof sorts going on, so we sat down at acafé and watched the proceedings. Itincluded an antique car parade with apriest in attendance to bless theparticipating vehicles.Once the festivities were over, we visitedthe abbey church to see its famed
59cloister. Cloisters are havens of peaceand silence, and we always made time tospend a few moments when we foundone along the way.The church itself rang with music notusually found in churches. Seated in thefront pews, a jazz band with drums and avariety of wind instruments waspracticing their repertoire. While theyplayed, the organist tested the pipeorgan, making for an intriguingcacophony. Churches are no longer justfor church music!Taking the trainBooking train tickets inFrance used to be stressful,but no longer. Much to ourdelight, we found reservingseats on French trainseffortless with theirexcellent smartphonebooking app.We installed the SCNF(train system) app on ourphones, searched for thetrain we wanted to take,paid with a credit card, andthe digital tickets magicallyarrived on our phones!Once on the train, theconductor scanned the QRcode on our phonescreens, and that was it.By booking early we alsogot the tickets at adiscount, saving quite a bitof money—the ticket fromToulouse to Moissac costus one Euro! No morequeuing up to buy ticketsfrom someone behind aglass window who doesn'tspeak English or strugglingwith vending machines! It’sall online and electronicand takes about a minute.
6022 DayMoissac – AuvillarWe woke up to a beautiful day in Moissac. The sunshone, the skies were blue, and from the outset,it looked like the 20 km walk to Auvillar wasgoing to be intriguing and beautiful.As we were walking through the streets of Moissac, wepassed a church that had been turned into an art gallery.Inside I met a local photographer who was exhibiting hiswork as part of a group exhibition that was taking place. Hisfour-piece series of a girl posing in a nearby forest wasoriginal and inspiring. Even with the language barrier, wehad a pleasant talk about his images. It was enjoyable tomeet a talented French photographer and gain first-handinsight into his work.On the outskirts of Moissac, we joined a long, straight
61How do we cope with languagebarriers, since neither of us knowsmore than the most basic French?Answer: Google Translate. We walkedpast this old, ruined church on theway out of Moissac, and I wanted toknow more about it. I pointed myiPhone camera to its explanatorysignboard, and voila! The inscriptionshowed up in English on my phone. Imust’ve used it dozens of times inthis way. Unfortunately, it’s not thatgreat for translating ongoingconversations, which would havebeen helpful.stretch of the Garonne Canal. The urban environment soonchanged to a leafy, picturesque canal scene that remindedme of the photos one sees on jigsaw puzzle boxes. It wasan easy, pleasant walk. We shared the path with cyclists,joggers, and a few moms with prams, but most of the timewe were on our own.It didn’t take us long to cover the 20 km to Auvillar, a smallmedieval town with a cobblestone town square and a hugeantique granary in the centre. The P'tit Graine, an 800-year-old family home, served as our cosy and slightlyupscale gite for the night.We waited for the gite to open by having drinks and muffinsin a little bookshop across the street that also served as acoffee shop. I suspected it was common for pilgrims to usethe shop as a “waiting room” because there were a varietyof games and puzzles scattered on the tables. So we keptourselves busy playing with them for an hour or two.The P’tit Graine truly felt like a family home. Many gites weremore like hostels; here we were sharing someone’s home,complete with the family dog and cosy kitchen. Even ourupstairs room with a view over the square had been thebedroom of the owner, Laurence, when she was a teenager.The usual communal dinner took place in the open-plandining-room-cum-kitchen.Toulouse may have been a relaxing break, but we werepleased to be back on the Via Podiensis. We missed out ontwo days of walking, skipping the stay-over towns ofLauzert and Lascabanes, but then we had little choice.
6223 DayAuvillar – MiradouxIt was hard to leave P’tit Graine. Itsconvivial atmosphere, warmfireplace, and delicious mealsmade Auvillar a memorablestopover. The eight-hundred-year-oldhouse was a special place where onecould feel the presence of thegenerations that had grown up in it andcalled it home. No wonder that whenarchaeologists excavated parts of thehouse, they found a rubbish dump fromthe twelfth century in the basement!Laurence saw us off at her front door inthe morning. She cautioned us to takeextra care on a steep, muddy declinesection of the pathway leaving Auvillar.If only she knew what we were lettingourselves in for...We’d hardly left Auvillar when weencountered our first patches of mudon the path. After that, the soft,slippery boue—French for mud—wasan almost constant obstacle we had todeal with. It slowed us down and madethe going tough. Often we searched onthe map and took alternative gravelroads that were firmer to avoid themuddy bits. But many times theresimply were no alternatives.Part of the reason we encountered somuch difficulty was that we werewearing shoes that were unsuitable forwet, slippery surfaces. Walkers inrugged hiking boots with robust soleshad no problem; in fact, they shot right
63past us while we struggled. In addition, they all walked withtwo hiking poles, whereas I had none, and Adeline had toget by with one.By the end of the day, Adeline had slipped and fallen in themud three times, the poor thing. Fortunately, she sustainedno injuries, but it’s nevertheless unpleasant andhumiliating.When we reached Miradoux, we sat down on a bench in thechurch garden and basked in the sunlight for an hour ortwo. Since the grand church was closed for renovations, wecouldn't see inside like we did in every town.Our gite, Bonte Divine (it means “oh, heavens!” in English;no idea why), was a recently opened establishment, verymodern and clean. We had a brief moment of panic whenthe owner couldn’t find our booking, but it turned out hewas looking at the wrong page in his diary. In all of thethree dozen or more places we stayed during ourpilgrimage, there were never, thank goodness, anyproblems with our bookings. Upon our arrival, everyestablishment had a room ready and prepared for us.�Stephane, owner of Bonte Divine giteadding us to his map of the world.
6424 DayMiradoux – LectoureThe Bonte Divine gite in Miradoux was a pleasure tostay in last night. The hosts were discreet yet attentive,and the homemade meal at dinnertime was delicious.We shared the dinner table with a large group ofFrench walkers, all friends (see story on opposite page).It rained again today, so we stuck to firmer ground and avoidedthe muddy hiking trails. We’d learnt our lesson! This made thewalk pleasant and quite easy, especially since it rained thewhole way we walked through the beautiful countryside.Fortunately, it was a distance of only 17 km. One of the manyinformation boards we’ve seen along the way informed us thatwe’d left the region of Tarn-Garonne and were now enteringGers, the home of Armagnac brandy and foie gras.Lectoure is a town typical of the Middle Ages when thick,10m-high walls around the perimeter of villages wereessential for protection during the incessant wars andconflicts of the era. We explored the wall’s many nooks andcrannies and walked most of the way around it on theoutside. Then our wanderings took us to the impressiveCathedral Saint-Gervais-Saint-Protais. It just so happenedthat the cathedral’s pilgrim welcoming desk was open, sowe received a beautiful tampon from the friendly lady behindthe reception desk. It made a lovely addition to the growingcollection of stamps in our pilgrim passports.A well-travelled and cultured couple owned a charming andvery spacious chambre d'hote in Lectoure, which served asour home. We even had a dining area complete with wellstocked bookshelves and antique furniture!
65⊳A sight that brings joy toevery pilgrim’s heart (andstomach too!). We hardly seepilgrims while we’re in opencountryside, but rest assured,they congregate at everytown’s coffee shop along theway.ArmagnacStrawberriesCheeseWe decided not to eat out because we’d seen a few worthydeli shops in the area. Instead, we bought a few yummylooking cheeses, dried sausage, homemade pies, and apunnet of fresh strawberries. It was an ideal, satisfying“eat-in” dinner.The accommodation we’d stayed at for the past few dayshad all been first-class and special. Have we become spoilt?Perhaps. Unfortunately, there’s bound to be one bad appleamong the sweet ones, and it was about to appear in atown where we least expected it...We’ve noticed more than a handful of “pilgrimtourists” with us on the road. These arepilgrims who only walk a particular section fora week or two, and not the whole 750 km fromLe Puy-en-Veley to Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port. Some docomplete the whole distance, but in stages over time. Theywalk two or three hundred kilometres now; return nextyear to walk the next section; and carry on like that untilthey’ve done the whole thing. Often, the amount of timethey can take off work determines the distance they canwalk at a time. They walk with friends whom perhaps theydon’t see that often, and therefore it’s a fun and relaxingway for them to catch up and renew friendships.Then there are the parents walking with their kids, like thedad and his pregnant daughter we met in Domain deSauvage and the mother and her pre-teen little girl whofinished in Conques. Only a small group of dedicatedpilgrims, including us, commit to theentire journey. An even smaller minorityare the rare pilgrims determined towalk to Santiago, a distance of some1500 km from Le Puy. One such pilgrimwas the Japanese girl we met whilepassing through the Basque country(see Day 37). Hats off to those heroes.
6625 DayLectoure – La RomieuWe quickly developed a fondness for Lectoure. It’s aconvenient town that has most amenities neededto live comfortably (including two excellentboulangeries, one of which we supported bybuying a fresh-from-the-oven baguette before commencingthe day’s walk). The main street is lined with attractive shopsthat had us window-shopping, something we don’t often doback home. I could see us living here.Today is Armistice Day in France. It’s an important day for theFrench citizenry since it’s the day World War II ended and,with it, the dark era of the Nazi occupation of France. Acommemorative ceremony to celebrate Armistice Day was
67underway at the local cemetery when we passed through thetown of Marsolan on our way to La Romieu. We stopped andlistened respectfully from a distance for a few minutes. Thenwe went in search of an open café, which we found on thetown square not far from the cemetery. Soon the square wasbuzzing with people who’d just been to the cemetery event.They tucked into sandwiches and coffee supplied by the café.Everywhere we go, we’ve noticed this sense of community inthe French villages. In addition, the French take enormouspleasure in their parades, festivals, and ceremonies.The landscape here is flat, so the walk went smoothly, and wearrived in La Romieu early. We received a very abrupt,bordering on plainly rude reception at the gite. The placealso seemed run-down and not too clean. In retrospect, weshould have left immediately, but we chose to remain. So wejust dropped our bags, decided to adapt to thecircumstances, and went out to explore the village and haveour customary glasses of blonde.La Romieu is a quaint, well-preserved village, popularon the tourist circuit in this part of France. Amongothers, the town is known for the legend ofAngeline’s cats. Angeline, who lived in medievaltimes, saved the village from a mouse plague by letting hercats catch them. A sculptor recently produced fourteensculptures of cats, all scattered throughout the village. Thechallenge is to find the kitty sculptures, mostly placed so theyblend in and take some effort to spot. We found thirteen, butthe fourteenth one proved to be elusive. We learnt later thatsomeone had stolen the last one some time ago. That’s sad,but at least there was an explanation.
6826 DayLa Romieu – CondomWe wasted no time in leaving the gite in La Romieufor our walk to Condom. It was by far the worstgîte experience we’d encountered on ourpilgrimage. We were sad that it happened in oneof the most wonderful towns we’ve passed through. But bynow, as far as gites were concerned, we knew: You winsome, and you lose a few. Flexibility and adaptability arecrucial.Before leaving La Romieu, we visited the Collégiale St.Pierre church, cloister, and palace ruins. According to thetown's history, this was a safe haven for pilgrims during thetumultuous medieval times, but now, fortunately, it’s a wellrun history museum well worth the time we took to visit. Thehighlight of our visit was ascending the narrow staircaseinto the church's tower, which offers a 360-degree view ofthe surrounding landscape.The sunny walk to Condom ran pastendless vineyards—Gers has beena wine-producing region sinceRoman times. Then there wererolling landscapes planted withwheat and vegetable fields thatreminded us of the time we walkedthrough Tuscany on the ViaFrancigena. These are the visualmoments we’ll cherish and recall forthe rest of our lives.
69Upon our arrival in Condom on a Friday afternoon, itbecame evident that the town was in a celebratorymood. Red and white umbrellas strung across thestreet we arrived in were the first signs of thisparty mood. Everyone was frantically busy erecting carnivalstands and carting around crates of beer. Food tents linedthe town square, and in the centre, a large sound stage wastaking shape. A beer stand blocked off the cathedralentrance almost completely, so much so that we haddifficulty wiggling our way past it to take a look inside thecathedral.The boarded-up shops indicated that this was going to be asignificant festival. We weren’t sure whether we should besad or pleased that we were going to miss the festivities,which looked like it was to commence the following day.The Au Plaisir d'Etape, the gite we'd booked, will go down inhistory as the most entertaining and fun-filled gite westayed in. Our hosts, Philippe and Corinne, were trueentertainers from beginning to end. At this point, weregretted not being able to understand more French, as ourfellow pilgrims, who were predominantly French, couldn'tstop laughing whenever Philippe entered the room. It’s nowonder Au Plaisir d'Etape has a five-star rating on GoogleReviews, having received no less than 358 reviews.The poolside courtyard served as the dining area. Thehighlight was without a doubt the ice cream with spekulaas,served appropriately in a shell-shaped bowl. And yes, wealways had three-course meals at the gîtes. Always.Once again we realised the best gites are the ones wherethe hosts have walked one or more Caminos. From the waythey organise and equip their facility to meal times and theroles they play as hosts, they understand the needs ofpilgrims. Philippe, below, is a master at this.
7027 DayCondom – Montreal du GersThe breakfast at Au Plaisir d'Etape was hearty andplentiful, and we made sure we wouldn’t get hungryduring the short 13 km walk to Euaze. I’d neverseen so many types of jam on a breakfast table, allhome made by Philippe and Corinne.The rain of the recent past lifted, and the sun was blazingdown. South Africans know well how to hike under suchconditions, so our walk progressed well. We shot past severalFrench and European walkers who were battling in the heat.Le Couloumé, the gite on a wine farm we were staying at, wasan additional three kilometres outside Montreal du Gers. Theelderly farmer had Dutch roots, and could therefore more orless follow when we spoke Afrikaans.The wine and Armagnac he poured at dinner were from hisown vineyard. It seemed to us like everyone in Gers is anamateur vintner, with varying results. But the Colombar wine heshared with us was top-notch.Upon leaving Condom we made a smalldetour to the tiny walled town ofLarresingle. While it’s well-preserved andhabitable no-one lives there permanently,but there are a few shops and eaterieswithin it’s walls. We were too early for anyof them to be open, but fortunately a cafénearby, run by an Englishman, provided uswith our �rst cup of genuine English tea inFrance. Much appreciated, kind Sir!Nice jamcollection!
71The story ofpilgrim SaitoWe first saw Saito walkingahead of us on a side roadleading to a church wherewe were taking a break.She cut a petite figure, swaying fromside to side as she struggled up theincline. When we passed her, we askedwhether we could help in any way, butshe insisted on carrying on by herself.We next saw her at the tourist office inMontreal. She was exhausted, poorthing. The tourism officer phonedSaito’s accommodation, who agreedto collect her from the tourism office.It so happened she was also stayingat Le Couloumé, at least 3 km away,and we doubted she’d have made itthere on foot.The last time we saw her was inEuaze. We were having coffee in thesquare when she stopped by. She hadregained her chirpy and smiling self.She was pausing for three days tobuild up her energy. We agreed it wasa wise decision. Saito is from Tokyo;she is seventy-one and determined towalk to Saint Jean, which is still a fewhundred kilometres away. Her courageand determination inspired us.The Mosaicsof SeviacWe wanted to visit anarchaeological museum inthe nearby village of Seviacwe had read about before.Its purpose is to protect the remains ofa Roman-era villa with particularly wellpreserved mosaic floors. The owner ofLe Couloumé kindly let us use ashortcut to the museum that ranthrough his vineyards, which made for apleasant walk there.It took us a while to find the museum,but it was well worth the effort. The villaitself may have been destroyed duringthe fall of the Roman Empire around450 BC, but its gorgeous mosaic floorsand many of the original features werevery well preserved. Did you knowRoman villas had underground heatingfeeding hot water to their many indoorpools and baths? Talk aboutdecadence!
7228 DayMontreal du Gers – Euaze⊳We had lunch at a typical gîte open-airépicerie, a small grocery shop. It’s informal,and essentially there to provide an extraincome for the gite from passing pilgrims.This one had tables for pilgrims to sit andeat.Much of the walk from Montreal to Euazefollowed a shaded, paved cycling path, making the goingeasy once again. Today’s walking distance as well as theprevious two days’ were all below 20km. How long are theseno-effort walks going to last before we hit more uphills andbad weather?
73�An eye for Armagnac. Our host at the gite inEuaze offering us a glass of her home-madeArmagnac blend from this fancy decanter.Pilgrims leave all kinds of books behindwhile they’re walking, for someone to reador take along. This copy of An Ecology ofWisdom was randomly left behind on a tableat a gite.��Photos of pilgrims line a stretch of the pathoutside Montreal. It’s part of an outdoorphotographic exhibition featuring the ViaPodiensis and its people.
74The path soon changed to a paved road leading us to thetown of Manciet, where we saw a bullringfor the first time in France. Bull ringshere developed out of the age-oldtradition where butchers chased cattlethrough the village streets to see whichanimals were the strongest and thereforehad the best meat. This became a sportwhere young men ran with the bulls. The\"sport\" of bullfighting in this region isknown as Course Landais, and it involvesthe use of cows instead of bulls.Fortunately, nowadays no one dies in thering.29 DayEuaze – NogaroWhen we walked through Euaze the next morning,the restaurant on the square where we’d hadour beers the previous afternoon was stilldeserted, as were the other shops. Typically,towns in France never wake up before 9–10 a.m.The first part of the walk to Nogaro started with a wet andmuddy forest walk. However, by now we’d become a lotmore agile, so even though it slowed us down, we knew ourway through it. Besides, the forests were always tranquilspaces we enjoyed.
75Cemeteries, most of which are centuries old, are animportant part of villages in France. In most casesthey are adjacent to churches and make idealstopping points to rest, fill up water bottles, andhave a snack or lunch. The graves are invariably well-kept,and many are family graves and therefore still in use. It’scommon to see photos or fresh mementos on the graves.Each region we walk through has a uniquearchitecture. It’s particularly older buildings thatfeature recognisable, ubiquitous architecturalstyles. When we started, most buildings wereconstructed from volcanic rock. In Toulouse we sawtraditional buildings used yellow limestone. In Euaze, thetradition began to evolve once again. Buildings featured amixture of wooden beams and plastered bricks. The roofstructures exhibit slight variations, with the majorityconsisting of clay tiles. By the time we reached the Basquecountry, the plastered houses painted red and white lookedcompletely different from anything we’d seen before.
7630 DayNogaro – Aire-Sur-l’AdourOur overnight stay in Nogaro was comfortable butnondescript. It had no special features orcomforts; its only redeeming quality was beingacross the street from a well-stocked boulangeriethat stayed open late and had a seating area, so that’swhere we had dinner. We also stocked up on pastries therethe following morning. We didn’t mind the plain gite becauseafter Nogaro we’re sleeping in a legendary gite we’ve beenlooking forward to—the Ursuline Chapel in Aire-Sur-l’Adour.One thing that intrigued us about the main street in Nogarowas the colourful little shirts strung across the buildings.Later, we learned that the Tour de France cycle race ranthrough town and that these were part of the decorationsfor the event. Who’d have known? We walked to Aire-sur-l’Adour leisurely, enjoying the peacefulrural scenery and resting often. We were zigzaggingthrough wheat fields when we came across a GR65 markerpointing to an abandoned railway track. Not long after, wesaw a donativo set up by the side of the track under acolourful umbrella. We helped ourselves to juice andchocolate bars, dropped a few coins into the collection box,and set off again. A few kilometres later, we passed anotherone. We stopped again because this time it also offered apassport stamp. So yes, our collection has a stamp from aroadside.
77We sat around in one of Aire-Sur-l’Adour’s plentiful cafés,having our usual refreshments before booking in at theUrsuline Chapel. It was up a very steep hill on the way out oftown, which after a few beers was quite a chore.As religious buildings go, the Ursuline Chapel is a fairly recentconstruction. Built in the mid-1800s, the chapel used to formpart of a seminary that is now a public school. Originally achurch, the chapel fell into ruin, underwent deconsecration,and was subsequently sold. The present owner had, overmany years, renovated and converted the chapel and severaloutbuildings into accommodation and facilities for pilgrims,keeping much of the decorations and features, including thestained glass windows, intact.It may no longer be used for religious purposes, but thechapel, now a spacious pilgrim dining room and sitting area,has retained its air of sanctity. We lingered here untildinnertime, not wanting to miss out. We felt blessed to be insuch a wondrous building and environment, surrounded bykindred spirits, a special privilege unique to those who hadundertaken the Via Podiensis pilgrimage.
7831 DayAire-Sur-l’Adour – Miramont-SensaqToday’s flat, winding 17 km walkwas repetitive andpredictable—maize fields,forests, tiny hamlets, repeat.Apart from a pleasant stroll along apathway around a picturesque lake, weencountered a few niggly muddypatches that caused us to slow down.Even so, it was seventeen kilometres ofno concessions, no coffee stops,nothing—right up to Miramont.Fortunately, we’d stopped atthe boulangerie in Aire Sur l’Adour onour way out of town. That kept thehunger at bay.Not that the walk was boring.The last time I watched a cow beingmilked was when I was around twelveyears old, so it was a pleasant surpriseto see it being done right next to theroad.On the outskirts of Aire-Sur-l'Adour, wehad another surprise. Not only did wecross a street named after NelsonMandela, but we also passed a piece ofstreet art with a South African theme
79featuring our flag! Admittedly, it madeus just a tiny bit homesick.By now we’ve (again) established aloose circle of “regulars”—walkersgoing to either Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Portor Santiago de Compostela whom wecrossed paths with and chatted to whilewalking or during mealtime at the gites.What struck me was the wide range ofmotivations to walk along the ViaPodiensis we heard from fellow pilgrims.Only one or two we’ve met walked forpurely religious reasons. One was theCatholic family with eight kids in tow wemet at Fermé du Barry. Most, however,do it as a way to spend quality time withfriends and family. One or twoyoungsters we chatted with, like thebubbly Georgina from the UK, were inbetween projects, had changed jobs, orcompleted their studies.Then there are a few serial pilgrimagewalkers who “collect” Camino miles,some of whom have clocked upthousands of kilometres.The pilgrimage is no longer as unifiedas it was, say, in the year 1350, whenevery pilgrim had one goal in mind—tohave their sins forgiven at thedestination of their pilgrimage. Thesedestinations could be Santiago, Rome,or any other major centre that attractedpilgrims to the relics kept and displayedin their churches and cathedrals.Tonight we’re in a comfortable Airbnbin Miramont, next to the village church.It’s a last-minute booking we madeafter our chambre d’hote fell through.We worked out it’s the same price as agite’s double room with a sharedbathroom, but the Airbnb has theaddition of a private bathroom, linen,towels, and a few extra niceties.⊳ Our back garden atthe AirBnb place inMiramont. Unfortunately itrained in the afternoon, sowe couldn’t make use of it.Spot the black cat!We’d been walking pastcherry trees with ripening,but not quite ready-to-eatcherries for days. And �nallytoday we came across aroadside tree with ripe ones!We helped ourselves to ahandful – delicious.�
8032 DayMiramont-Sensaq – Arzacq-ArraziguetMiramont was a pleasantvillage, but not as quaintand gentrified as thevillages of the Cele Valley.Still, our cosy Airbnb room and themagnificent views from the garden willalways remind us of Miramont.Hopefully, we’ll be staying at somethingsimilar in some of the next stages,which are still waiting for us.As usual, we picked up a handful ofpastries from a boulangerie beforeleaving Miramont. It’s no fun walkinghungry, so two hours later we finishedthem off at a scenic viewpoint with acomfortable wooden bench overlookingthe surrounding farmlands.In the village of Labalette, we saw aroad sign that we found inspiring anduplifting—we’d already walked 614 kmsince we left Le Puy! It didn’t say howmuch we had left, but it couldn’t bemuch more than 120 km or so. Wehave another six days of walking beforewe reach St Jean-Pied-de Port.Tonight we’re in the modern complex ofthe municipal gite in the centre ofArzacq. The building reminds me of theold motels of the seventies andeighties, but this one’s clean, neat, andfunctional. We decided against havingthe usual in-house dinner and settledfor pizzas and beer on the villagesquare. It was the right decision and afine end to the day.
81�Our favourite grocery store in France isCarrefour. It’s similar to Woolies, sometimesa bit more upmarket, with yummyspecialities we simply can’t resist. Top of thelist is their gazpacho, but we also won’tleave without going past their cheeses anddesserts.�During the course of the day we walked pasta village school we were met by anenthusiastic and cheerful group of boys whowere probably familiar with the constantstream of pilgrims passing by.We had our �rst glimpse of where our �naldestination lies, the snow-capped Pyreneesmountains!�
8233 DayArzacq-Arraziguet – Arthez-de-BearnWe clocked a distance of just over 30 km today, with a 434 m totalclimb and a total of almost 40 000 steps. It’s the longestdistance we’ve walked on the whole route, and we felt it in ourbodies. As daily walks go, this one was tough, even in moderateweather. Note to self: Keep distances between 20 and 25 km. That’s theideal distance range for me at this stage of my life.Despite the distance, the walk was pleasant, going past beautifulfarmsteads through the peaceful countryside. Twice we stopped on the wayto look at churches, which always have unique character and ambience.Untrained eyes may perceive cathedrals and churches as similar, but inreality, no two are alike.This day was also the only time we ever saw a snake. A gentleman outwalking his dog discovered it in a patch of tall grass by the roadside. It wasalready dead, probably driven over by a passing car.Church
83A few kilometres before Arthez, we ran into an unexpectedhailstorm, and we had to hastily dress up in rain gear. Wearrived rather footsore and wet in Arthez.The first-class welcome that awaited us at our chambred’hote, Domaine La Carrére, helped ease the walking painsconsiderably. It’s a three-storey manor house complete witha majestic staircase and a wood-panelled dining roomstraight from Downton Abbey. The house exudes anunexpected elegance and sophistication. We remained in ourfive-star room, content to unwind until dinnertime.Six of us shared a supper table. There were two Frenchgentlemen, one a motorcycle racer and the other awinemaker, who had been to South Africa many times andspoke very highly of our wines. The other two were Britishladies—friends—Nicki and Nicky. One lives on Guernsey,the other in Munich. That’s the Camino people for you—they’re borderless.The closer we get to our end destination, the less weencounter “short distance” pilgrims. Everyone we meet nowhas their eyes set on Saint-Jean-Pied-Du-Port, and ahandful are even continuing to Santiago. They all havedetermination written on their faces and a faraway butfocused look in their eyes. The end is in sight!
84FoodBreakfast.Really?Local chips.Pronounced ‘cheeps’Shopadvertisingpains (bread).Of all the highlights of the Via Podiensis, indeed, ofall our experiences of France – the mouth-wateringcuisine must rate as the one we enjoyed most. Frommorning ‘till night our days were filled with newdiscoveries in palate pleasures.Never skipthe pudding!
85There are too many culinary highlights to mentionthem all, but here are a few delicious moments we’llcherish for a long, long time.The first thing we tasted upon arrival in France was thepastries. From the first pastries we tasted at a Lyon stationcoffee shop to the final sweet treats we enjoyed beforeboarding our flight home, the experience was a constantsource of delight. We made sure to indulge in tartlets,croissants, and cheese bakes every single day. Usually, westocked up on a few pieces before starting the day’s walk,or we’d buy along the way if we passed an openboulangerie.We didn’t eat out at restaurants all that much because theprices are prohibitive—R1500 for two meals was prettymuch the going rate. However, the prices were worth it.Every dinner and lunch we ate at a restaurant was, withoutexception, of the highest standard.Then there were the standard three-course dinners servedat the gîtes. Only on very rare occasions, when the gitehosts were clearly not much into tasty food and merely seton filling the stomachs of the pilgrims, the gites all servedsimple yet delicious meals.Every meal included bread—and by that I mean deliciousbaguettes, without exception—and restaurants nevercharged for these.In most gites wine was included in the price of the meal, sowe enthusiastically indulged. We were surprised to realisethat the French are not as enthusiastic wine drinkers as wewould expect. Though many only drank water at dinner, wecornered the bottle and used it well. And believe me, theFrench are still the kings of wine-making. A glass of local vinrouge simply cannot be beaten.In South Africa, we typically enjoy proper breakfastsconsisting of cereals, muesli, or yoghurt, occasionallyaccompanied by bacon and eggs. In contrast, the Frenchversion of breakfasts was, well, underwhelming. Sure, weeventually grew accustomed to it, but is there a problemwith serving coffee in a mug instead of a pudding bowl?Should you serve your bread on a plate instead of directlyfrom the table? Bless those establishments that served aproper breakfast with decent crockery and an apple or pearfor the road. However, these establishments were extremelyrare.Ironically, we didn’t gain much weight while eating so well.Walking a few kilometres every day was enough!There are recipes we’re taking home for Adeline to try out.Aligot is one of them. So are some of the crêpe fillings wehad. It’s been a culinary learning curve!
8634 DayArthez-de-Bearn – SauveladeSaying goodbye to our“chateau” in Arthez was hard.Even compared to the ritzyMercure hotel in Figeac, thishad to be the best place we’ve stayed inso far. And with only five nights left, it’sgoing to be difficult to beat.The gite at Sauvelade was already openwhen we arrived. It was a no-frills place,but quite adequate. We took anafternoon walk in the area, which didn’tconsist of much more than the abbey,under renovation, and the abbey’schurch. The latter found an innovativeuse for the front dome—it’s used as avideo screen that shows a documentaryabout the history and culture ofSauvelade. Even though it was inFrench, we sat through the whole thirtyminute video. Who knows when we'llhave another opportunity to watch afilm screened on a church dome?
87One of the many abandonedchateaux and manor houseswe passed. A �rst classrenovator’s dream. Verytempting, shall we put anoffer in?⊳At first glance, the gite in Sauveladelooked quite disorganised, especiallythe reception and dining area. Weawaited dinnertime anxiously but werepleasantly surprised, though thearrangements were a bit unusual. Theinside bar area, where one tabledisplayed plates of food, served as agathering place for everyone. The ideawas for you to grab your plate andreturn to your designated seat in therestaurant area. The meal turned out tobe well-prepared and tasted excellent.
8835 DaySauvelade – NavarrenxSign in bothFrench and BasqueWlanguages.e had a short, easy walktoday—Navarrenx is onlythirteen kilometres away!According to the GPS, it took us3 hours and nine minutes to walk thatdistance, so we reached Navarrenx ratherearly in the day. That’s not a negativething, because the town has a rich culturalhistory with lots to explore. Moreover, thetown draws a large number of tourists,resulting in an abundance of coffee shops,cafés, and restaurants to choose from.We have a nose for spotting quality coffee,and as expected, we stumbled uponShakespeare, a modest bistro owned by aBritish lady who serves delicious coffee.She’d lived in France most of her adult life,and her French habit of sitting down andhaving a drink with customers was a telltalesign she’d been around forever. Herhusband brews beer, appropriately calledShakespeare, and we promised to returnlater to taste it.Next, we went on a walking tour of theramparts—the wall that encloses the oldpart of the town. Earlier we’d collected amap guide from the tourist office, whichhelped us understand what we wereseeing.When we returned for our Shakespearebeers, we were joined by Nicki and Nicki,the ladies we met at Domaine de la Carrérein Arthez. We got along well with them, sotogether we booked a celebratory dinner inSaint-Jean-Pied-de-Port. Such is theCamino—you strike up unexpectedfriendships, lose touch, and just reconnectfurther down the road.
89�The photo project by the photographerOlivier Robinet kept popping up along theway. He took 660 photographs featuring1230 pilgrims as a “celebration of passion,discovery and love”. I must say I felt a littleenvious, seeing it. Perhaps I can dosomething similar back home...Tonight we’re sleeping in the GîteCommunale, or municipal gite. It’s in an oldbuilding with a bit of character, which isalways interesting. The room had a doublebed and one single bed, so we waitedanxiously to see if another pilgrim would bejoining us. Fortunately no-one did, so wehad the room too ourselves.�
9036 DayNavarrenx – AroueDespite the predictions of clearskies, we started off our thirdto-last day in—you guessedit—pouring rain. Over thepast few days, the ground had firmedup, but now it was once again soakedand muddy. We promised ourselvesnew walking sticks and tougher shoesbefore we tackled a Camino again.Navarrenx had been an enjoyable stay.There was so much to see and do inthis historic town. We exited the townthrough the medieval gate, and thentwo gentlemen that you can see on theleft bade us farewell. The next twostay-over towns are small and oflimited interest, so we’ll missNavarrenx.Basque horses seem towander, because they oftenwear bells.�
91Guess what we found at ourgite in Aroue—LaagerRooibos tea! Rooibos ispopular in France, butexpensive! Our hosts at the gite areworld travellers who had been toSouth Africa and liked Rooibos somuch that they took a box ofLaager home. The response whenwe say we’re from South Africa isgenerally, “Wow! That’s far!” A fairnumber of well-travelled Frenchpeople have been to South Africaand loved it. We did our best todispel the safety concerns, sohopefully a few of those who hadn’tdone so will visit in the not-toodistant future.�The two Nickys (it’s actuallyNicky and Nicki) and ushaving a roadside lunch onour way to Aroue. They werefun to walk with, although weinevitably pulled ahead aftera while, as we walked at afaster pace.�We’re now in a region knownas ‘Basque Country”, homeof the Basque people. Theirtraditional buildings, such asthis farmstead, all havewhitewashed walls and reddoors and windows. Theirfarms are always tidy andneat, a far cry from themessy farmyards of we sawat the outset of our journey.
9237 DayAroue – OstabatThis rather unimposing sign is known asGibraltar, and is the point where two majorpilgrimage routes, the Via Podiensis and thepilgrim routes from Paris, de Vezeley and LePuy converged. We’d been looking forwardto reaching this milestone, but we felt a bitde�ated, and I sensed it was the generalfeeling among the handful of pilgrimsmilling around it. Perhaps we wereexpecting a larger monument – it’s onlyabout 1.2m high. Walking away from it wetook the wrong turn and walk about threekilometres in the wrong direction beforenoticing pilgrims walking slowly up a steephill heading in the opposite direction.There was an air of anticipation among the pilgrimson the road and converging at the gites at the endof the day. Everyone smiled; there were lots offriendly greetings among strangers, and theroadside shops buzzed a little more than usual.Our stayover on the outskirts of Aroue is run by two youngpeople well-versed in the ways of pilgrimage. Their gite,while not fancy in any way, recreated the ambiance ofpilgrimage very well.Furthermore, they exceeded expectations for their guests.Early in the evening, they took a pilgrim suffering fromfatigue to a doctor for treatment so she was well enough tocontinue the next morning.Even the atmosphere around the dinner table was a bitmore boisterous and upbeat than usual. Everyone waslooking forward to the last two days of walking before wereached Saint-Jean.Fortunately, the rain held off, so the walk the next morningprogressed well. The walk towards Ostabat was steep, butthe breathtaking 360-degree view of the Pyrenees andsurrounding Basque countryside made the effortworthwhile. There was a tiny, tiny chapel at the top of thehill with more than a dozen pilgrims milling around, but itwas still a magical moment. We spent an hour there soakingup the magnificent landscape before us.In days gone by, Ostabat was a bustling trade hub withmuch trade activity focused on the needs of passingpilgrims. Nowadays it’s a sleepy village with hardly a soul insight on its quiet streets.We have a reservation at a contemporary chambre d'hôte,so we had no issues. The hostess mentioned there was onlyone open restaurant in town that evening. She must’ve seenour worried faces because she kindly phoned and made abooking for us. Just as well—every pilgrim in town wasthere that evening.
93This is Noriko from Tokyo, Japan, who we’dbeen seeing and having brief conversationswith for the past few days. She’d just quither job and has taken time off to walk fromLe Puy to Santiago. She was by far the moststylish pilgrim we met, always dressed inwhat looked like designer hiking clothes. NoK-Way, Quechua or North Face gear for thisgirl! With her on the left is a “serial” pilgrimfrom the Netherlands – a lady who walksCaminos every year, mostly very long ones.�SeathernyBecause much of the Via Podiensis runs throughprotected nature reserves, the birdlife is prolific. Averitable chorus of birds chirps and sings as wewalk along shaded country roads and throughevergreen forests every morning. It makes for a pleasingbackdrop to the rhythmic swish of shoes against tar andgravel.There’s a word for the effect that birdsong has on walkers.It’s seatherny — “the serenity one feels when listening tothe chirping of birds.” Whereas we saw no more than two orthree bird species while walking the Camino de Santiago,here we counted at least ten species serenading us alongthe way, especially in forests and tall trees. Only a handfullooked familiar to us, among them the kites, hovering highabove us in the sky, just as they do back home. They’llspend their summers in Europe and Asia, and then, comewinter, just like pilgrims, they’ll journey south to spendOctober to April with us in warmer climes.
9438 DayOstabat – Saint-Jean-Pied-de-PortThe same crowd as the day before had dinner inOstabat, the last town before Saint-Jean, and thefriendly conversations and camaraderie continued.As usual, Google Translate had to smooth over thebumpy translation affair, but even so it was once again anenjoyable occasion.Full-blooded Basques owned and ran the restaurant andbar. We commented to each other (in Afrikaans!) on theirunique personalities—the Basques were firm, no-nonsensepeople, in sharp contrast to the gentle and amiable Frenchelsewhere.
95The walk between Ostabat and Saint Jean wasuneventful and also a little busier than usual. UnlikeSantiago and Rome, there were no suburban streetsand sidewalks to negotiate; the walk was semi-ruralright up to the moment we entered through the ancientwalled gate into the village. Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port is asizable town, bustling with pilgrims preparing to embark ontheir journey to Santiago. New boots, shiny backpacks, andfashionable branded gear adorned the majority of pilgrims.With our muddy, worn boots, mud-splattered pants, and asomewhat drawn appearance, we exuded an aura ofexperience. Via Podiensis pilgrims paid tribute to each otherwith nods and knowing glances in the streets.If we could, we may have booked ourselves into a luxuryhotel as a celebration of our achievement, as we did inSantiago de Compostela when we walked the Camino deSantiago. But strangely (or perhaps fittingly), there are nofancy places in Saint Jean. So we spent our last night on thepilgrimage in a mid-range chambre d’hôte, together with,among others, two Americans from Arkansas who lookedand sounded very new to the pilgrimage experience. Blessthem for being here.We walked around town, up and down the narrow alleyslined with curio shops, before heading for the cathedral toattend Mass. As usual, it was in French, so after twentyminutes or so, we left and headed back to ouraccommodation.As arranged, we met the Nickys for dinner at a crêperie. Thedinner with them was without a doubt the highlight of ourfinal night on the Via Podienses. We had such a good timethe restaurant manager threw us out around 10 pm. Whenwe walked home, the village was deserted—everyone hadturned in early in preparation for the first day’s walk toSantiago, which was a tough one, by all accounts. �Standing in line at thereception of thepilgrim of�ce in SaintJean to receive the�nal stamp in ourpilgrim passports.Done! We arrived at themedieval gate of SaintSaint-Jean-Pied-de-Portvillage just after 2 pm,thirty-eight days afterwe started ourpilgrimage in Le Puyen-Veley.⊳
9639 DaySaint-Jean-Pied-de-Port – LyonWe got up early to explore Saint-Jean beforeheading off on the last leg of our stay in France.The boulangerie, where we sat down for a coffeeand croissant, was on the same street thatpilgrims walked down to start their pilgrimage to Santiago. Wewatched them with a mixture of relief and envy—we hadcompleted our 750-kilometre pilgrimage, while they were juststarting on a road unknown to most of them.We’d expected crowds of pilgrims at the Saint-Jean trainstation, but it was close to deserted when we arrived there. Weexchanged greetings with one or two pilgrims we vaguelyrecognised, but we saw none of our regular comrades.We were due to fly home from Lyon, where we had arrived inFrance from South Africa more than six weeks ago. It’s a twoday train journey from Saint Jean Pied-de-Port to Lyon, but wedidn’t mind. We love taking trains.The first day’s travel would end in Montpellier, where we’restaying over for the night. The following day we’re taking atrain bound for Lyon for a two-night stay there to explore thecity.I expected to see more pilgrims at the Saint Jean-Pied-de-Portstation, but the platforms were quiet, and only a handful of usboarded the outbound train. There were one or two familiarfaces on the platform, but none of them spoke English. Sothere were no sad farewells.When I looked at the station as the train pulled out of it, I felt avague premonition that this wasn’t the last time we’d be seeingSaint-Jean...We had an afternoon in Montpellier to explore the city. The cityis an architecture fan’s dream destination. Eighteenth-centurybuildings, art, and monuments line the streets, parks, andpublic spaces. We wandered the streets gawking at thescenery, for that’s what happens to a pilgrim once their journeyis complete—they become a tourist. And what better city to bea tourist in when it’s a showpiece metropolis like Montpellier?We experienced a sensation akin to reliving our vacation.The next morning, it was time for our short, two-hour train
97ride to Lyon. The first thing we did on arrival was to visit thethoroughly modernistic Confluence Centre—part sciencemuseum and part event centre—located at the scenic spotwhere the Rhône and Saône rivers meet. We both loveexploring unusual buildings that look like spaceships, andthis one didn’t disappoint. As expected, we found ourselvesin the cafeteria located on the top floor, offering abreathtaking view of the two rivers that converge at itsdoorstep.We closed off our stay in Lyon with a visit to one lastcathedral before we left France—the rather ostentatiousBasilica of Notre Dame of Fourvière. We took a funiculartrain up a steep hill to get there, but we could’ve easilywalked it. After all, we’d done so a few dozen times in thelast six weeks.By the end of our two-day stay in Lyon, we were bothitching to get home. It’s been a long time away from ourdear kitty, Molly, and our own chateau in Kleinemonde. Wewere eager to return to familiar surroundings, relax, andreminisce about an unforgettable adventure.�The two long-haul �ights from Lyon homevia Dubai were uncomfortable and tiring.Note to self: Fly directly to Europe nexttime. Looking at the �ight announcementboard listing all kinds of exotic destinationsmade me realise: So many places to see, solittle time.
98The Via Podiensis fulfilled every expectation for adelightful pilgrimage experience and beyond. Let meexplain.Every inch of rural France is postcard-worthy. We’d neverbefore walked through so many magical emerald-greenforests or gazed over ageless landscapes dotted withcharming, old-world villages. Honestly, there is not a singlesection that we thought we could have skipped without losingout.The route is well-planned and avoidscities and large urban area, whichcontributes much to its sereneambience, all the way.The French treated us with the utmost courtesy andfriendliness everywhere we walked. The gites, ranging frombasic to luxurious, were immaculate. It took a while to learnhow to operate the shower taps on some occasions, butthere was always hot water and a clean bathroom to lookforward to.It's challenging to rate how difficult the route was physically.We slogged through many kilometres of wet, muddyfootpaths, which slowed us down and made the journeydifficult. In dry weather, these sections would have been easy.Although the route has its share of ups and downs—especially at the outset, it levelled out in the second half.The amenities overall are adequate. There are regularroadside toilets, especially in the earlier stages, and almostevery town has public toilets. That’s a big change from theCamino Frances and its tissue-strewn open-air “toilet” spots.I’d be lying if I said every town had shops, but there wereenough at regular intervals to fill the average pilgrim’srequirements in terms of ATMs, pharmacies, and groceryshops. Not once did we feel isolated or without support. Itwas strangely comforting to see the La Malle baggageEpilogue
99transport van zoom past us every day and know there was abackup available if needed.Accommodation and food in France are much more expensivethan on the Camino Frances. Despite costing twice as much asin Spain, the Via Podiensis offers significantly superior quality.The Via Podiensis is particularly rich in cultural heritage.Information boards that explain the features of theregions pilgrims walked through are plentiful.Churches are almost always open, and much has beendone to preserve historical sites, particularly where itpertains to the history of pilgrimage. We walked throughfive distinct regions, each with its own architecture,cuisine, and cultural festivals. Citizens were proud of theirheritage and pleased to show it off to visitors. We were, forexample, sad to have missed events such as the cowparades of the Aubrac.Language was less of a barrier thanwe’d anticipated. While theoverwhelming majority of pilgrims wereFrench, and few of them could speakmore than very basic English, therewas always someone who spokeEnglish, and with whom we could havea conversation.We had good conversations even with those who could barelyspeak English, perhaps because comprehension depends somuch on body and sign language.We held up physically very well. Experience played a majorrole in that, as well as looking at what other pilgrims werecarrying and wearing. We knew what prevents blisters, had allthe pills and ointments needed for bothersome little achesand pains, and had fine-tuned our kit for all kinds of weather.The exception was our trail running shoes, which didn’t havesoles that could handle so much mud. And we should bothhave had two hiking poles.It has less of the pilgrimage ambiance than the CaminoFrances. Perhaps it’s because most on the path were doingshorter distances and without a clear pilgrimage goal. Very,very few were walking all 750 km to Saint-Jean or onwards toSantiago. Most walkers considered the spiritual benefit orgoal implicit rather than explicit, as was the case in theMiddle Ages.Would we walk it again? Of the three pilgrimage routes we’vewalked, the Via Podiensis is the one we’d consider walkingagain if the opportunity arose, for all the above reasons.It’s hard, almost impossible, to explain a pilgrimage walk to aperson who hasn’t done one. Sure, it’s ‘nice,’ ‘fantastic,’ or‘lovely.’ But that’s far from the whole story. The dailystruggles and small triumphs, camaraderie, and exhilarationare difficult to convey.Every day is filled with little adventures, little tales of joy andcomedy, and moments of contemplation—enough to fillvolumes. How do you communicate that in a comprehensiblemanner that doesn’t make the average listener at best nodpolitely or lose interest?I hope that this book has given you a little taste of the ViaPodiensis that you can savour and perhaps reflect on. Youmay even decide to embark on a pilgrimage yourself. If that’sthe case, bon chemin. Enjoy the Way!
100In April 2024, two South African long-distance walkers went toFrance, where they completed the 750 km Via Podiensis, an ancientpilgrimage route from the town of Le Puy-en-Veley to Saint-JeanPied-de-Port, the starting point of the Camino de Santiago. Theirexperience changed their perceptions about France. Along the way,they made new pilgrim friends, experienced first-class hospitality andsupport, and gained new respect for French culinary traditions.They walked through breathtaking landscapes and postcard-worthyvillages but also braved muddy paths, torrential rain, and inclementweather. The story of their 39-day journey is an inspiration for anyoneplanning to walk the Via Podiensis.