The Way to Santiago Blog

I’m lying in bed trying to muster the energy to write todays blog….. I can’t…. I can’t keep my eyes open…

And so, I write yesterday’s blog today, and yes I’ll do today’s as well?! I’m sure none of you mind…
Yesterday was a very long day, especially for my left foot. I had planned an easy day from Condom to Montréal-du-Gers (a mere 17km but a good rest for my feet), the weather was once again overcast which meant I wouldn’t overheat in the blazing heat. As I departed, I felt a slight drizzle but nothing to worry about.
Like the guide says, this part of France is so very different from the other areas I’ve walked through. The few hills are small and rolling, the land is mass agricultural, fruit wheat & vines. It would be wrong to say the views are boring, but they aren’t as spectacular as the Aubrac plateau or the valleys of the Aveyron and the Lot.
I suppose it’s the difference between the wilds of the Highlands and the rolling farm land of Somerset.
Without much to comment on I arrive in Montréal-du-Gers at about 11.30am, the town square is very pretty. I look forward to staying here. Or, perhaps not, the accommodation doesn’t live up to the town. Disappointing as the next place to stay is Eauze, another 16km. Now I know that only makes 33km which I could do easily… But you have to understand, my feet, no, my left foot… Not good!
I set off, I even check to see if it’s shorter to walk the main road. It is by 1km, not worth it!
Within the next fifteen minutes I see a snake, still to quick for me though. Ten minutes later and the clouds vanish?! Noooooo….. Oh my god it’s hot. Factor 50+ on my head and close to the same on my arms. The march continues, finally I pass over half way, a place called Lamothe. (According to my guide, no gite, well guess what, yep there’s a gite here but no I don’t stop, that’s my stubborn streak, I’m now set on Eauze.
My march turns more to a zombie dragging my heels, with an odd limp. The 7km to Eauze follows an old railway line. As such it’s mostly shaded. It’s also enclosed, so no views… The only thing to stop me losing my sanity are the lizards scattering as I walk and two more western whip snakes, one being fairly substantial in size.
It’s gone four o’clock before I arrive. I know that sounds ok, but it messes up my routine of washing socks, pants and tshirt, plus all the other chores I need to do (like writing a blog without falling asleep)…!
I stay in a simple gite, and before all my chores I go for a cold beer in the square.
I’m shattered…

Do I remember where I started this morning or where I’ve been today… Not without concentrating extremely hard! It’s not because I’m intoxicated either, even though I should be. It’s more likely the fact I’m another year older and so my very very poor memory I already had has just got an ounce worse?!
So, after conferring with the guide book and my credentials I remember I started the day in Lectoure a very pretty place that’s roughly 35km back. I’m now in Condom… Yeah I thought there’d be a few sniggers from us Brits! I had a anxiety attack just wondering how to pronounce the flippin’ place.
Today started off under a thick blanket of cloud, I supposedly can thank Anette for that as it’s one of the things she prayed for last night! Despite the cloud cover there was an unmistakeable heat but also a refreshing wind! I needed it today as I fear I may have got a little sunstroke the last two days. (Also I’ve been bitten to buggary, back, arms, legs, feet, hands & head.
Like yesterday today has been broken down into smaller stages, lots of road walking through different villages. It helps to break the monotony sometimes, that’s right even walking across beautiful landscapes can sometimes feel tiring if you’re feeling low, or just exhausted.
Again, like the last two days, it seems we’ve lost most of the holiday ramblers, now it’s just pilgrims in front and behind. Like a slow moving caravan of people marching across the rolling hills. I arrive in Condom by about 1.30pm, I should point out I had breakfast this morning (shock I know) and had left Lectoure by 7.15am.
As I entered Condom, I found a gite almost immediately. As I had passed most of the pilgrims I knew on the way I decided here was a good a place as any. (I had considered a hotel as a treat but decided otherwise for financial reasons). After dumping my bags, I decided to walk into town, to see if I could find some insoles for my boots and a few other bits. As I followed the signs for the ‘Centre Ville’ I had a sense someone was watching me, I turned to see a Volvo driving up, my pa’s Volvo to be exact?! They pulled in and I questioned them, dad had come up with the idea this morning, it took them three hours to drive down here but they wanted to have lunch with me! I should have realised when they text me in the morning, wishing me a happy birthday and also asking where I was aiming for today…
It was lovely to see them, we had lunch, found a sports shop for my insoles, took a drive out to Larresingle, a deviation of my route, which I no longer needed to walk (phew), then after a quick stop at a pharmacy to get more suncream (factor 50+), they dropped me off and set off back themselves. (So thank you ma & pa).
I also saw I’d had more donations on the UNICEF site so thank you all, and for the birthday wishes on Facebook and twitter…
I even ate at the gite tonight, that’s three meals in one day…?!!
But I’m adding another picture of my feet, I don’t know if you’ll see but I’ve finally noticed today my left foot is swollen…? Don’t know why, but it explains the pain!!!
Goodnight & god bless.

Another crap sleep, I think because I’m such a light sleeper, the slightest noise from someone else and I’m awake. It’s lucky I went to bed early yesterday!
I’m on the road by 7am, I want to get some good distance in before the heat of the day. My left foot is still bad, not blisters, I’m not really sure, but it hurts when I step. I think I could use some good insoles?
Auvillar was a pretty little town, and as I walked out of it I realised the whole modern part was hidden by the medieval market area which I’d stayed in. I had beautiful views from my dorm and in the distance I could see the two big chimneys from the nuclear power plant bellowing out vapour.
This morning I passed villages every hour which helped with the pace of the day, and most of the walking was on the road. Early on I disturbed a couple of green woodpeckers, but besides them and a few other birds it was eerily quiet.
By 9am I knew today was going to be another hot day. The heat has changed as I’ve moved south-west. Up until a few days ago the heat has been dry, but now it’s close, theres a humidity with this heat. My trousers cling to my legs, my hat is soaked to the point that I can wring it out.
As I predicted to myself, with such a hot day I found little shade as I walked. But my pace was good, my foot had eased. The pilgrims following me now couldn’t be seen. I passed others, in churches, petit casinos, cafe’s. I could see more in the distance… I’d passed the easy 21km mark where I’d considered staying. The next stop was 10km away. Roughly half way there and my pace like everyone’s begins to slow. A combination of fatigue, the heat and our feet. Mine usually start aching after about 25-28km.
I set my sights on a pilgrim up ahead, but I can’t gain ground, as I turn a corner I find four more in the shadow of some trees, I recognise three of them. Finally I see what must be Lectoure in the distance, but it’s not to far. As I get closer one of the ladies from the party of four comes past, there’s also a young couple from the States up ahead. I haven’t talked with them, but I’ve heard through others.
I see a group of maybe five pilgrims up ahead under a tree, it turns out they couldn’t decide on directions as others walk past some carrying on and some turning right. I stop to give my English opinion on which way (using viewranger app) is right, when someone calls my name from behind me. It’s Anette. Shocked that she’s not days in front of me, I ask if she’s seen Marcus or Thomas also. She did 3 or 4 nights ago! My spirits are lifted, we all walk the final distance to Lectoure. Once here, we have an ice cold beer and then find a hostel.
Anette wants to check my feet?! I guess that’s the nurse in her. She agrees they are ok but I do need some good insoles.
It’s now early evening and I’m crashing… But not before I wish my old friend (and boss) Pete Canning a very happy birthday!

I woke at sometime between five and six. I’d forgotten to put my phone in airplane mode and a certain someone had sent me a text message raging about the night she’d had! I tried to drift back off but it was no use. I got up, packed as much of my gear as I could and then went about writing the day before’s blog.
At 8am Gill came and got me for a cup of tea followed by breakfast! (Yes yes I ate breakfast, it’s a miracle). After breakfast it was decided I would be dropped off back in the town so I could visit the abbey cloisters before leaving Moissac.
Today was already hot and it was only 9.30am.
By just after 10am I was having my pilgrim passport stamped in the tourist office before having a quick wander around the old cloisters, by half past I was back on the trail.
I knew today was going to be fairly easy by the fact I was following the canal for about 14km before heading off to Auvillar, but by starting so late the day was incredibly hot, even in the shade next to the canal.
Even now it’s 8pm and the sun is beating down, such a change from yesterday!
I finally arrived in Auvillar at about 2.30pm. I couldn’t go any further, my feet and also the heat. I found the gite, stopped in a cafe for a crepe and coke and that’s about it…!
I would like to thank Gill, Alan & Tom for their gracious hospitality. They have a beautiful house in an idyllic setting and good neighbours to boot.
Also, the fact I smoked last night, in know way means I will return home a smoker. It is one of the hardest things to give up, trust me, I know. But I plan to continue being a non smoker!
Ooh, also, I feel I have to mention a village I visited with my parents some years back.
Whilst at Moissac, Gill had a a little booklet on the history of ‘Oradour-sur-Glane’. If you’ve never heard of it, look it up on google. Do it now, open a new tab and search. Whether you’ve heard of it or not, anyone coming to France should pay this village a visit and pay respect. For Oradour shows in full heartwrenching detail the complete horror and terror that is man. This village remains how it was left by the SS on the 10th June 1944. After they had mercilessly massacred the entire village.

I woke at first light, about 6am, but didn’t contemplate getting up until closer to seven. By quarter past I was out the door and on my way. Yesterday I’d walked about 24km and today I have about the same to do.
Today I have to be in Moissac by about 2pm as I’m staying with some friends of my parents. Gill and Alan Rodgers, and Tom Grainger. Friends from Fivehead, Somerset. I know Gill worked with my ma at Curry Mallet primary school, and Alans’s parents live opposite my folks. I hadn’t known that Tom knew my dad through a work colleague at Clarks.
I’m hoping today is easy going as my feet are still feeling very tender.
As I leave the medieval hill town, the air is cool, there is a strong wind but I guess this will move the clouds as the day heats up. By 10am, it’s still very windy and the clouds seem to be getting darker.
I contemplate stopping to put my camera away, I can see the weather turning bad. Instead, as usual, (I’m to bloody stubborn), I speed up, thinking I’ll out-walk the storm that’s approaching.
I overtake several other pilgrims as I march on, still taking everything in, but now at the pace of a car that’s driving on the choke… (yes that’s right, I’ve tested the theory, my mini was great…)
Throughout late morning I feel the odd drops of rain, but nothing comes from it. Finally I drop down into Moissac. It takes me an hour to get into the centre and then find the abbey where Gill & Alan are meeting me.
Just as I come out of the abbey and go to look in the tourist office window, I glimpse who I think is Gill, yep, she recognises me about the same time. A quick drive and we’re at their place. It’s beautiful and ideally positioned between the river and the canal.
We have a quick bite for lunch, and then I’m given space to do my daily chores, shower, washing etc. I relax for a while before heading back to the others. It’s so calm and relaxed here. We chat about motorbikes among other things and how my parents are worried…
Despite the weather, we have a BBQ for dinner, it’s all good. They’re shocked when I tell them it’s probably only my fourth or fifth hot meal I’ve eaten since I began on the 20th.
Unfortunately with the relaxed atmosphere I had a couple of beers, the men were smoking roll ups, my will power lapsed and I too smoked….only a few but I knew I’d feel it tomorrow!
By 10pm I was shattered, usually I’m crashing out by seven or eight o’clock. I bid everyone a goodnight and went to bed.
Oooh I forget to tell you, yesterday I saw another snake, a western whip snake I believe! Very exciting, but still to quick for me to get a picture…!

I was woken by some very early risers going for breakfast, I had slept well so I didn’t mind. It was half past six, fifteen minutes and I’ll get up. I keep to my word and sling myself out of bed, and start a flurry of packing different bags, piling things left, right and centre. Why had I bought so much yesterday? Why had I taken everything out of the rucksack? Packing sorted and I’m ready to go. I had noticed my feet hadn’t improved overnight. Today could be interesting…
I leave somewhere in the middle of a precession of pilgrims, the one with the big camera, and biggest rucksack ever. It’s going to be another beautiful hot day but for now it’s cool and there’s a nice breeze.
After a couple of hours I begin to descend into Montcuq, my original plans had been to stay here. It looked a very pretty little town, but as I skirted around it and made my way onto another footpath I realised I’d missed my opportunity to get a photo of the town…
A couple of hours later and I could see a hilltop village coming up in front of me, I took a couple of shots but thought I’d get some more once there. Turns out the GR65 route once again skirts the village, another missed opportunity. I unfortunately don’t have the time or strength to take detours at present.
Finally, I see what can only be Lauzerte in the distance, again a hilltop town, dating from the 12th century. My stop for tonight if I can find a bed. The climb up is tiring but eventually I get there. I find the gite, a note tells me I have to go to the tourist office to book a bed. Ten minutes later I find the tourist office in the square, it’s closed?! I sit in a bar and have a coke. Thirty minutes later it reopens. I pay for a room, walk back to the gite and dump my gear.
After a few hours of wandering around I buy some bread and cheese, and head back for an early night, I’m exhausted…

Well I awoke early, but in silence and in a double bed! I don’t want to get up…
Finally at half past seven I decide to roll out of bed. When I first looked out of the window there had been a mist surrounding the town, now it was clear blue skies.
I’m supposed to be seeing the folks again today, one last time before I drop too far south for them to visit. Unless off course there’s an emergency?!
By reaching Cahors a day early I kind of screwed up all my & their plans. I text then to let them know my new plans. Despite hobbling rather than walking I want to get on my way. It’s half past eight as I cross the Pont Valentré, I look to see the devil’s stone. The phone goes, dad telling me they’d meet me later in the day. I have now decided to take the next 3 days fairly easy, doing an average of 24km per day, to reach Moissac by Saturday.
By setting off so late, the day has already begun to warm up. The one kilometre climb from Cahors has sweat pouring from my head. Today is going to be hard.
My feet ease slightly as I begin a steady rhythm, but there is still a small twinge in my left foot and also my right knee. I suppose I may have to face facts that I’m finally getting old…
An hour later and I have a new companion, it’s like I’m the pied piper of stray dogs. The thing is, this is no stray, a very charming little dog with a very clean coat, again a type of gun dog, a hound, young, no collar and almost certainly going to get run over the way she darts in front of cars as we head to cross a motorway! An hour later and the pup has finally found something better than following (and leading) me, men with machinery building a house.
I continue in a small trail of pilgrims, some fully fledged, some tourists. It’s cynical of me I know, but unfortunately that’s how I see it. Today the way follows trails this way and that, if you don’t keep a sharp eye on the waymarkers you could end up walking the wrong way. (This is where the viewranger app for iPhone comes in very very handy).
I climb one side of a hill, only to come back down just around the corner rather than the other side, and the way down is once again treacherous. I pass a swarm (I don’t know if there is a scientific term for this) of butterflies, Adonis Blue, I believe. Later I get a picture of a bunch of butterflies on poo. That’s right, butterflies on poop, I was as shocked as you are, such pretty little things. The butterflies not the poop.
I cross a brand new road, or motorway, (it’s big and there’s no road markings as yet), I stop to take a picture, both ways.
By 1pm, communication with my folks has cost me the price of a pint, in the UK, and not in Wetherspoon’s. I underestimated the distance and my folks have been in the village I plan to stay in for half an hour already…. I’m about 6km away, I think. But like I said yesterday, you never can tell with French distances. For example, today I pass two signs to Lascabanes (where I plan to stop), approximately 2km apart, both say I’m only 1.2km away…
Finally, at about half past two I see my dad walking down the road towards me. I straighten up a bit, take slightly better strides, and don’t drag my feet. He already worries about me, I don’t want him to see that today has physically destroyed me.
We walk together towards the church. I pop in the gite d’etape only to find there’s no space. French tourists with two support vehicles, a shed load of bags, cool boxes and accessories have filled the place.
Rant time….
So you see I carry my mobile always, it’s the world we now live in, but do I call and reserve a bed for the following night…. NO. Why not? Because
a) I don’t know how far I’ll walk and I believe somewhere will always present itself to me.
b) I don’t believe St. James, or any of the first pilgrims setting off to see his resting place, sent friggin’ messengers to book rooms ahead of them.
c) I’m just a little bit stubborn.
Now I haven’t had a problem in France finding a place to stay, today is no different, I walk half a kilometre and find a chambre d’ote, done. I do however look forward to Spain, where you can’t ring ahead, it’s first come first served. Of course I doubt we’ll get the tourists in Spain.
Ok, so room sorted I dump my bags, and walk back to the village with ma. They have had their picnic but they have some for me, so we sit and I eat.
I tell them I met three youngsters from Paris. I’ve passed them a few times over the last few days and then they always pass me, but today I stop and talk to them. They tell me I’m being talked about between the other pilgrims. The Brit with the massive…..camera (obviously). I believe I’m the only Brit on this stretch of the route and certainly the only one advertising where I’m heading with my ‘The Way To Santiago’ hoody, they find it hard to grasp I’m fundraising for UNICEF, and even harder to grasp I’m walking with a camera that must weigh at least 2kg… I do wonder myself.
My folks decide to take me for a little drive, I want a few bits from a supermarche, and dad wants to see a village not far from here. The drive makes a welcome change, and when we finally find the shop, I buy a few bits that add another couple of kilos to my weight?!! Afterwards, they drop me back and say their goodbyes. I head to my bed, do my washing, shower and crash… Once again exhausted!

Well it’s 6.30pm, I’m sat with the iPad downloading, I have a beer in front of me and I’ve had a long hot bath… Such luxury for a pilgrim. I’m in Cahors, a rough 35km today and I wasn’t supposed to be here until tomorrow!
My night in Varaire went soundly, despite waking up to find someone else had stayed in the room as well.
I left around eight again, thinking I was in for an easy day! Today I gave myself the luxury of listening to music. I was walking the Cami Ferrat a 15km stretch of old roman road, yep it was pretty much straight!
I knew by walking the extra distance yesterday it would screw up today’s plans, so even from the time I left I had in the back of my mind the idea I may end up in Cahors. By 1pm I’d say my feet were done for, but I’d passed where I’d planned to stay over an hour ago. Supposedly Cahors was only 10km(ish). I’ve decided I don’t trust French distances?!
Finally, I reach La Marchande, from here it’s only about 6km and the guidebook says it’s nearly all down hill.
Well, all I can say is ‘my arse’, for the next 4km(ish) I have been walking gently upwards along dirt tracks between heathlands. It’s beautiful, the sun has finally come out, but I’m not stopping to put sunscreen on.
Finally the path turns to road and the road begins to decend, very steeply. Put it this way I wouldn’t park my car on it!
Some cursing later and I’m at the bottom, I find my way into town and just over the bridge there’s a little pilgrim information centre. I stop for a drink and to find out where I can stay.
Tonight I stay somewhere nice!

Haha… Damn phone?! Last night I lay in bed writing yesterday’s blog, I’d almost finished it before I fell asleep, today it has gone, alas, I will try to remember what went on…
Once again I had shared a room with a loud sleeping French man. Luckily for me, before my folks had departed my dear old ma had given me earplugs… Now they weren’t 100% noise reducing but if I slept on one side and held the duvet as tightly as possible over my exposed ear, the snoring was reduced to about 10%, which was bearable…
I woke later than usual, and despite not wanting to get up, I did, by just gone eight I was out the door and ready to take on the very overcast day. By half past I’d worked out how to get out of Cajarc and I also had four French pilgrims following me. (Probably because they couldn’t find their way out of town either)?! As I marched on I could hear the others following close behind, as I stopped to photograph a landscape or the odd praying mantis, they would near, sometimes overtake for a moment, but when I was ready I passed them again. This happened all morning, through the odd light shower, until we reached Limogne-en-Quercy. I had been planning to stop here but it wasn’t even midday. The other pilgrims passed, one couple suggested staying where they were. It was only another 13km on, I’ve already done 20km…
I walk on, as I leave Limogne I see the road ahead is clear. The others must have stopped for lunch. In the next hour I decide the first gite I come across I’ll stay at, my feet ache and I’m still fairly tired.
Finally, about 8km on and one stray dog later I finally enter the village of Varaire.
The dog, it’s some kind of gun dog, a pointer. I first came across it about 4km back, he’d been walking towards me down a track. As I passed, he turned and followed. Now he walks beside me as if he is mine, he follows scents this way and that. He disappears into the undergrowth at which I say ‘au revoir’, but then he appears again?
Ok, so I arrive in Varaire, and amazingly I give the dog the slip, yes I feel somewhat guilty, but what else can I do. I walk up the steps to the gite, and call out. A lady beckons me in (I think), I ask for a bed and that’s it, I’m done.
I settle in to a room on my own, for now. Just after 3pm I wander over to the shop, I buy bread, chocolate spread and a coke. Back at the gite I relax with a green tea after washing my clothes. As I lie in bed, I write some emails, and begin to write this, but then I fall asleep.
I wake to some serious clatters of thunder, it’s late evening and the rains have come for a brief moment. I love watching lightning but I haven’t the energy to get up. The rains settle and I go back to sleep.

Well I wake early as usual, but by the time I’ve repacked (the backpacks still no lighter), we’ve had breakfast and loaded the car it’s almost half past nine! Our journey back to Figeac is an hour.
We find a car park on the other side of the river and I gear up, ready to head off. The folks see me off (again), and soon I’m back to following the red and white markers directing me across France. The first hour and a half, see’s me walking back to almost the same point I entered Figeac two days ago, also I suffer with cramp in my right calf! What a great start.
After such a disappointing start, I find my pace again and soon I’m steadily heading towards Gréalou. For once I left my phone on as I’d been talking to the folks & Jaz earlier in the day. Now I noticed I had a message and missed call from the folks. I read the message to find they stayed in Figeac for another disappointing lunch (now either dad’s turning into a grumpy old man, or they are really bad at picking places to eat…not to sure), they were going to Gréalou and waiting for me. As shocking as it was, I walked the last kilometre to the village and low and behold, they’re walking the other way towards me…?!
I discover Gréalou has no gite d’etape, so I sit with the folks, have a drink and half a warm cheese & marmite sandwich and carry on. (I would like to point out, I set off at 10.45am rather than the usual 7-8am, it was now 4pm, I’ve walked through the hottest part of the day, and now I have another two hours walk in front of me…)
So, I set off as my parents tell me they’re in no rush to get home, they’ll drive to Cajarc and wait for me? What’s going on…?
The walk down to Cajarc is beautiful, the town is set below chalk cliffs on the river Lot. Finally I arrive, and yes, the folks are here waiting for me. I find a gite, book in, (well when I say book in I mean dump my gear and write my name on the whiteboard). Returning to see my folks, who finally admit to be worried about me…. Awwww…. I assure them there’s no need to worry, I am a master when it comes to ‘wingin’ it…! So they finally depart to head home. I am exhausted and fall asleep as soon as I lie down….