The Way to Santiago Blog

What can I tell you about my day off? I still get up early, the wifi is slow, (but I am downloading lots)! My folks take me to a local village that has a big plant/flower sale. They want some flowers for their place, so does everyone else from the site. It’s a hive of activity with food stalls as well, cheese, cured meats, caramelised nuts and nougat.
After returning home, we sit and have lunch before I return to the wifi.
In the evening I spend well over an hour using my iPad to talk to Jasmin back at home! Apple’s FaceTime works brilliantly….
Dad and I discuss smaller cameras, as he feels the Nikon D3 is too big to be lugging round with me, to be fair he has a point. I only have it because of my idea regarding the book…!?!
And that concludes my day off…

Just a quick note to say anyone reading this blog that hasn’t seen my main website can view it at http://www.thewaytosantiago.co.uk and those wishing to donate can do so online by following the link under the charity page directly to my fundraising page on UNICEF’s website, where you will also see I have just over £2800 already.
Thank you for reading…

Today I awoke into darkness. Is it still night? No, someone closed the shutters and the curtains. Now there’s one thing that I enjoy about mornings, and that is waking up to the morning light. I could live in a glass house, I still wouldn’t close the curtains in my bedroom! But I won’t go on this morning.
I slept ok, I’m up, bag packed, and I’m about to leave but wait… I get talking to Mattias, he’s from a little town just south of Brussels where they make Stella Artois, he’s been on the road for two months now and he slept in an outbuilding because it didn’t cost him anything. I had briefly talked to him last night as he sat and watched the sunset over the far off hills, smoking his Camel cigarette. This morning I gave him a pack of smokes I’d been carrying since the first day, in case of emergency kind of thing. But quickly I’d come to realise I still had to overcome all the damage I’ve already caused myself from so many years of smoking.
By 7.15am I was on the road, I only have to get to Figeac, which is about 24km. I should be there by lunchtime. I’d already planned to have tomorrow off. I know I’ve been walking less than two weeks but I wanted to let my feet recover slightly, and this is my pilgrimage so I can do as I choose. I may be walking the path of St. James but I am no follower, I make my own way.
Within the first hour I have seen so much wildlife, including cuckoo’s, a greater spotted woodpecker, and to many butterflies to name here. It’s a glorious day, and I’m taking it all in with every step. Today there seems to be a fair amount of road walking, but I don’t mind.
After several hours of walking, only seeing the occasional pilgrim in the distance. I am navigating a little pathway slowly as I’m spying for lizards, snakes and more butterflies, when I hear voices behind me. I quicken my pace to get to an area where I may let them pass. When I do pull to one side and turn around who should be there but Marcus & Thomas. Slightly shocked by finding they are not a day in front of me by now, we stop and chat before starting the decent into Figeac together.
I persuade them to visit the town as it has some beautiful architecture and history, and until one there is a market in the town, so we head into town looking for somewhere to stop and eat, before exploring. We end up at a very dodgy (but adequate) sandwich bar! Afterwards we visit the main church and try to avoid the town fair which we were not expecting, before Marcus once again makes his leave. Thomas had though of staying in Figeac to relax but later in the afternoon I catch a glimpse of him heading out of town too. I am planning to have a day off now, so my folks will be picking me up later today. At least my day off won’t cost me anything!
I wander the town again, get my credentials stamped at the tourist information office, and then I sleep on a park bench between the church and the river Cele.
Late afternoon and my phone goes off, it’s dad, they hadn’t realised the fair was on either, I get my gear on and march along the river until I find them. Having this day off also means I can try and organise seeing my girlfriend before Santiago and maybe even talk to her later?!
On the way back we stop and have a little walk looking for orchids and butterflies, just a couple of things my parents love about France.
We arrive back at just before seven in the evening. Dinner has been cooking while they’ve been out. I start to sort my gear then head down to the bar area to use the wifi.
Tonight I don’t have to share my room…

There’s something going on today, isn’t there?! For some reason I know it’s Friday….ahh of course, Jaz has the day off college and mum is watching tv all day. It’s the royal wedding! Funny how everyone has a day off in the UK, unless of course you’re needed to serve beer, food or fix stuff, (and if you are a fixer can you charge double being self employed). What a royal waste of taxpayers money! There was a time when the monarchy stood for something but those times have past.
Look at me ranting already and I haven’t even begun to tell you about my day.
Well my iPhone got some use last night playing music, not so much snoring as creaky bunk beds all around. I slept fairly well (I think), and I was up and away by 7.15am.
It was a slow decent right to the bottom of the valley at Conques, cross a historic (I say historic, it looked really old) foot bridge. Guess what, then I start climbing out the other bloody side of the valley, it’s 7.30am for Christ’s sake, (well you deserve that upstairs, making me do this so early).
At this time id like to point out my spiritual journey hasn’t yet begun (as far as I’m aware). Saying this I walk with an empty head already, everyone else tells of having to clear their minds of everyday thoughts, but mine aren’t there anyway. All I think of is how far do I have to walk today and to be fair these thoughts are sporadic at most.
I take in everything around me, from the hazy landscapes to the birds, butterflies and bugs. The sounds of the crickets, the skylarks (& other birds) and the wind moving over the trees and fields. Even the scents are bombarding me, from the strong farm smells and car engines to the sweet blossoms and flowers.
Today has been the first time I’ve noticed it. When I was walking with Annette & Marcus, they too, noticed and appreciated their surroundings. Everyone else I have come across seems to be marching across the landscape with no knowledge of what’s around them, they see the churches and put another stamp in their pilgrim passport, but they’re missing the point! Yes, history is truly magnificent and these old churches and villages are stunning. But it’s the people we meet, the lives we change, the difference we make in the world around us, that’s what we have to take in and appreciate, the here & now.
This probably has no relevance here but Paulo Coelho sent me a simple sentence when I first started planning to walk the route for UNICEF and not just selfishly for myself. It goes – ‘How many times have we completely altered the original blueprint of our lives by changed one simple brick.’
Right, that’s my second rant, even if a little righteous, sorry.
So after I’d climbed out of the other side of the valley, it was fairly easy going along the ridge line over to Decazeville, which has the largest opencast coalmine in Europe. From the ridge line down to Decazeville and back up the other side of the valley, hmmmm. Tired lots and I still hadn’t past a cafe or shop. It was only another 4km to Livinhac-le-Haut where I was planning to stop for the night, again a sensible 23.5km. Well, despite the climbing and decending, the view coming down to Livinhac was stunning with the river Lot, meandering through the landscape and around the town. I finally arrived in town at just after one, so everything was closed. Ok, the bar was open, so I had a crusty baguette and a refreshing coke. Sitting down opposite a French Canadian, she didn’t really speak English, I really don’t speak French (except for my ‘avez vous un chambre’ routine). But we managed to persuade each other that it was far to early to stop walking, so we should continue!
Why… Why is it always me in these situations?! So tomorrow would have been a slightly harder day. The moment we left I knew it was all uphill… I’m so not happy, to make matters worse she’s walking faster than me, she’s bigger than me?! (bet her backpack doesn’t weight nearly 30kilos though does it)… We arrive at the hilltop village of Montredon. I am not walking any further, and if I have to I’m taking the road route to Figeac! As it happens we find a gîte on the far side of the village. Despite being surrounded by French speaking old people, it is quite lovely.
The total today is 30km, meaning I only have 23km to Figeac tomorrow.
(And then I’m having a days rest on Sunday)

I wish you could get this in audio format with the ‘big brother’ guy reading it out… Would it make it more interesting?!
So to finish of last night, the gite in Le Soulie was idyllic, I could imagine living there very happily. I was wrong however about the German couple, Rhinan (forgive the spelling, but it sounds like his name) was German but his partner Sylvia was French! Our meal was good and hearty, and despite a little rain outside, the wood burner kept us nicely warm. After dinner we took to the Chapelle they had created and instead of readings & prayers we took it in turns to say what we felt or why we were on the ‘way’. Kind of like a rehab clinic but without the drug abuse… To be fair it was a fairly touching experience. As usual I had all these beautifully poetic comments in my head, like ‘life is a journey’ etc etc, but when it came to my turn I just did my UNICEF spiel…. Meh…! If only brain to mouth function worked correctly.
We had all looked forward to a clear night so we could see the stars but with the rain had come the clouds so we all retired to bed. I was using my sleeping bag for the first time, after the water leak in the morning. Within an hour I was sweating, I could sleep in a blizzard on Everest in this! Zip open and sleep.
So now, day nine, not in the big brother house. Today I don’t want to get out of bed, I woke at six but don’t get up until close to seven. Today I even have breakfast, tea, cake (yes cake, it’s a French thing), and dry bread with nutella. Back to the room to pack, I inspect my feet, hmmm ‘nother blister, nothing major though. I brush, talc and drop the… (sorry to much information). And I’m off. It’s only 15km to Conques and I’m meeting ma & pa for lunch, I’m excited to see them and kind of nervous that it’ll make me want to stop. It’s a tough 15km, first down into Espeyrac and then up the other side of the valley. A nice break as we followed the ridge line along for a while, I just wish it wasn’t so hazy out. Finally we start decending into Conques. It’s near vertical, one false move, and I’d be arriving head first with pilgrims scattering each and every way! Not to mention the pressure it puts on my feet.
Finally Marcus and I arrive at the top of Conques, it’s not what I remember. As we make our way down to the abbey, I begin to recognise it. Such a beautiful little place with such remarkable history. We meet Thomas, another German who had stayed with us last night. Before long he had departed, it was only midday after all. Soon to follow him was Marcus. Just as Marcus said his goodbyes the folks walked round the corner.
It was lovely to see them and I’m sure they were glad to see I was still in one piece! After a mediocre lunch, which although was crap value for money, was probably a very healthy option for me, (thanks pa)! We wandered around the abbey to find the pilgrims hostel, I got myself a bed and bumped into Annette and some other pilgrims I’d crossed paths with. After dumping all my gear, we walked around the village before they left to get home. Dad saying it was a two hour journey, it was an hour alone to Figeac, at which I responded ‘it would take me two days’!?!
I’m chuffed I’ve done just over 200km, don’t work it out in miles, it doesn’t sound anywhere near as good!
This evening I have sat outside the abbey reading ‘The Way of Zen’, just to throw everyone, and now as I write this I’m lying in my bed, in a dorm of 14 but everyone else is at dinner.
I plan to be the first out tomorrow so my bag is already packed, as much as it can be?! And as I finish this I shall be fast azzzzzzzzzzzz……

The days are starting to become a blur…. I look to my prescription packet to tell me what day it is but then wonder if I have even taken the pills?!
So, day 8, I think…!?! Well, as I told you yesterday, I was staying in a proper pilgrim hostel and I was feeling all ‘warm & fuzzy’, yeah scrap that.
The meal was lovely and hearty local Aveyron cuisine. After dinner I decided to just crash out and read, so I fell asleep. I was just in my sleeping bag liner, silk, supposed to give an extra five degrees to body heat. I had wanted to ask someone for a blanket as everyone else had one. Turns out I woke at midnight just after the last people were settling into their comfortable beds. I was cold. To make matters worse the lady on the bunk below was snoring like nothing you could possibly imagine. So much so that other murmurs came from around the room, tutting & tisking.
So a very restless night and I was out the door while everyone went to breakfast.
Estaing is a very pretty town on the banks of the river Lot. I was just about to take a picture from the far side of the bridge when I realised my lower back and backside were wet. What the f@€k… My amazing ‘Osprey’ hydration pack has sprung a leak, water all through the rucksack, sleeping bag (gives me an excuse to use it I suppose), and over me, not only that but if it’s a hot day (which it was) I may not have enough… I could die! (ok slight exaggeration but you get the drift). You wait till I get home Osprey, you’re no.2 on my hit list.
Rucksack repacked, hydration pack slung on the outside, and I set off, again. It’s just gone 8am. Within the first hour a sixty-seven year old passes me, Her name is Annette, and she is one of three who speak to me in English. She learnt English very quickly while working as a nurse in the States. The second to catch me up is Marcus, another one of the three. Marcus is from Switzerland and wants a change in career life. He has passed me several times over the last few days but last night was the first time we’d spoken. Instead of overtaking me today, he slows his pace slightly and walks with me. We talk about the reasons we’re both here, our girlfriends back at home and what they think about us going off for so long. When I slow uphills, he waits, I think sometimes it helps to have someone walking with you, even if we walk in silence. Finally we stop in a village for lunch. Annette and Jean-Baptiste are sat outside the little village store, it’s such a relief to take my backpack off. I sit and eat some dried meat, cheese and a can of orangina. After ten minutes I’m getting itchy feet, And so I make my leave. Within the next kilometre I can see Annette up ahead and Jean-Baptiste following behind me, this is kind of how I imagined it. A string of pilgrims walking across the landscape. Before long we were all marching downhill until we came across a little gite in Le Soulie, offering free tea & coffee, so we stopped. Marcus joined us as we sat and chatted.
Turns out the gite is being run by a German couple, he speaks good English. I’m staying…

Well who’d a thought I’d make it a full week. I bet some of you didn’t….! And just for you doubters, in the style of ‘Hot Fuzz’ here’s a big two fingers and a ‘jog on’. I did blow a raspberry but it’s really hard to try and spell it?!
So today was another mission of 37km, it wasn’t planned, I just did a ‘Forrest Gump’ and kept on walking.
Despite my cheerful mood right now, this morning was another story! I can’t say I woke early, because I had rarely slept with two French men in the room, one snored like a maniac, the other just, well he didn’t do much but he was walking buddy of snorer so enough said…
So, I left at just gone seven, once more walking into the clouds. My plan was to reach Espalion by early afternoon, a modest 27km. I had planned to stop for lunch today, just to make a change. Well that didn’t happen!
The route, despite being beautiful, was monstrously tiring today, with scenic detours that seemed pointless because of the haze, climbing up and then back down the sides of valleys for no other reason than ‘shits and giggles’. (Now remember there are reasons the route follows the path it does but who am I to get in depth about it, when the sweat is pouring from my head)!
I did see my first snake today, very excited. I tried to scramble after it, but in my get up, I didn’t stand a chance.
Lots of what I’d call weekend pilgrims on the route, they’re just walking for a weeks holiday, having their bags dropped at the next stop. Don’t get me wrong some are very pleasant but others are just plain ignorant.
I reached Espalion, it’s bigger than I thought. Everything closes in. Keep walking, just keep walking, I do and within an hour I’m regretting it again. I keep up my march until I finally reach Estaing. I’ve been here before, I think?! For the first time I find a tourist office that is open, she directs me round the corner to a pilgrims l’hospitale, run by a lovely religious couple, you pay as much as you can afford, and that includes eating with them. It’s busy and so I have a top bunk, it’s a bed. Also this is the first time in a week when I’ve been accepted for being a pilgrim without being ripped off!
I feel all warm and fuzzy… Despite missing people back home.

For the first time in a week, I had breakfast. Well ok I had a glass of juice, a slice of brioche and half a cup of tea, sweetened, no milk. My bag was already packed, I just needed to pay, get stamped and get the hell out of here… Breakfast, pah, I don’t have time for breakfast. I have landscapes to cross.
(Obviously still had my vitamin pill and spirilina, goes without saying)
Setting off just after eight, the sun was already warm. I only had 4km to reach Nasbinals, it was just too far the night before.
From the quiet streets of Nasbinals I began to climb back up to the high plateau of the Aubrac, passing to my right the border of three departements – Cantal, Lozere & the Aveyron. (I should mention on Saturday after passing the Domaine du Sauvage I crossed from the Haute Loire departement into the Lozere). Now I was crossing into Aveyron. The way was very busy today, I must have come across 20 walkers, not all pilgrims, some just walking to Figeac (about 5 days walk).
After climbing to the highest point all around I then began my decent to Aubrac.
My feet and the chaffing were under control for now, so despite wanting an easy day, I decided to carry on walking to my planned stop for the night Saint-Chely-d’Aubrac, a further eight kilometres on.
See the thing is, going up is hard work, it’s tiring, I’m sweating, I just want to collapse in a heap. But downhill, jeez, if it says downhill it’s usually a stoney perilous pathway, so steep you need to take dolly steps and within half an hour your feet are burning up!?!
I arrive in Saint-Chely, 21km later, at a modest 1pm.
Being in France I keep forgetting, everything stops at twelve, until usually 3pm. So I stop in one gite, no one there until 3pm, now the really annoying thing is I saw a sign for another gite on the way down into the village, that’s right, I’m now walking back up a friggin hill to find it again! Done, and despite being closed I ring the doorbell, yay, they answer, I have a bed for the night.
Now all those downhill lethal paths have not been kind to my feet. Apart from that today has been stunning. I did however start talking to myself in a film noir third person kinda way, very disconcerting, especially as the green hairstreak was involved…
(it’s a butterfly)

Well first off I just need to say, plan your day, never overstretch yourself, and always know where you plan to get to… Ah, to hell with that.
Another 8am start although this morning I so didn’t want to get up, despite clock watching from 6ish, looking outside the ground was dry but visibility was none existent. I geared up and head out, it was something else, I was in the clouds, for real, no drugs?! One minute I couldn’t see anything, the next I was above the cloud and blue sky rained down on me. I was planning to finish my day in Aumont-Aubrac, a reserved 16km away. Once I reached Aumont-Aubrac, by eleven thirty I knew I should carry on. Well here lies the cock up! The next village La Chaze-du-Peyre, had a gite but it was only an hour on so I continued. Lasbros wasn’t supposed to have a gite but did, nope, closed. Les Quatre Chemins was supposed to have a gite, but it had burned down. Ferme des Gentianes, nope, fully booked… Rieutort-d’Aubrac, not supposed to have anything, and now I’ve set my sights on Nasbinals, shit they had a place and I was too stubborn to stop. Montgros, 3.5km from Nasbinals, 40km from Saint-Alban-sur-Limagnole (where I started this morning), I can’t go on, my feet and legs hurt, the chaffing is excruciating despite stopping several times to apply fresh talc.
I collapse on my bed. Then I inspect my feet, not bad. Oh but wait, the blisters are no longer on my feet! That’s right, now they’re just in my crack…
I ate a hot meal tonight, I say it like its a rarity, because it is.
Ps. Don’t tell my ma, but I walked 40km on a vitamin pill, 6 spirilina tablets, and two litres of water. I wonder if I could go further if I ate breakfast?

I woke as usual just before 7am, to find it was raining… Ooh yay!
Well bags packed and wet weather gear on, I head out into the drizzle, yep it had all but stopped in the forty minutes it takes me to get air out of each waterproof bag and pack the backpack. At least it made the walking cooler (not in a ‘I’m cool’ type of way)?!!
I had planned to avoid a longer route by missing the Domaine du Sauvage, it’s fine, the book tells you to do it in bad weather! But as it happens I stuck to watching the waymarkers and walked the whole damn route anyway.
Despite the sun showing itself occasionally the overcast weather was still holding and so I sweated in my waterproof coat and poncho covering my backpack, just so I could look more like Quasimodo.
Finally after climbing most of the day I began to drop down into Saint-Alban-sur-Limagnole, and also directed about 2pm extra around the flipping houses, my fault for following the markers and not straying.
(ooh quick note to Kate & Jamie, I renamed part of the Domaine du Sauvage to ‘werewolf alley’, but thankfully it was daylight so I escaped unscathed…!)
Anyway, St.Alban, yep I checked into a gite above a bar, the owner I presume was colourblind as his outfit was a bright blue sweater and pants? That or he’s watched to many Ali G programs.
I popped into supermarket as my folks had told me everything would be closed for Easter. I’m now carrying an extra two kilos of food…
Showered, talc’d and bed…

Made the grand total of 23km today.