After breakfast we headed for the holy city of Conques.
Conques is known as a holy city because it has long been the site of pilgrimages in France. The church itself has hosted many a pilgrim in its walls, and is the site of the remains of Saint Foye herself.
Getting there we were buoyed by the hope of passing though some towns that had bakeries or grocery stores, so that we could buy some provisions.
Unfortunately, our hopes were dashed in the first town, as it was a Monday, and the vast majority of bakeries are closed in small towns on that day (I'm learning all this stuff). Undaunted, our next stop was a town with a grocery store. We arrived at 1:10 in the afternoon, only to see that the grocery had closed at 1 o'clock, and didn't reopen until 4.
Monday was a lot of bad timing. We did find a café that was heated and open, where we bought some cheese and a Coca-Cola, and ate the bread that we had saved from several days previous.
Back on the route we imagined with great anticipation what Conques was going to be like when we finally arrived. We heard a voice from the trees call to us -- no it wasn't an angel -- it was a German man in a house overlooking the trail. He spoke no French, but when he discovered that I was American he burst into English. He asked whether I was "Joseph, the American priest who walks very slowly." Talk about getting a reputation and having it spread! I had never met this man ("Reine"), yet he knew about me. The Camino is indeed a small world.
We passed through the village of St. Marcel, with a parish church bearing the same name. It was a gorgeous jewel-box of a church, with magnificent Stations of the Cross and statues. You could just tell that so much faith had gone into making that place what it is today.
Finally we began the long descent into Conques (and I mean long!). Descending is hard on the knee joints, as they are working to break a fall. It's akin to a trucker driving down a long descent with his breaks on or the truck in first gear. It took about 45 minutes just to descend to where the town was, but we couldn't see it until the last moment due to the heavy overgrowth of flora and fauna.
Then, finally, there it was!
It was indeed beautiful, but I was surprised at how few people were there. Less than 300 live in the village.
The church couldn't hold but a few hundred, but it was built to lift the eyes and hearts of the pilgrims to heaven. The ceilings are very high, as is the case in true gothic churches.
We checked in at the Norbertine Fathers' guest house, and then toured the church. It was quite a site being there.
Here's the famous "Last Judgement" front portal of the church.
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