The gîte at Nasbinals lacked warnth -- literally! Since I was the first to arrive, I got the best bed: the one next to the heater. I shudder (or is it shiver?) to think what those who were twenty-five feet from the heater would have done on a cold night.
Leaving Nasbinals wasn't too bad. I went to the ATM and soon I was in the country, passing farm after farm.
The path was mostly ruts in the farmland. Along the way I was praying the Luminous Mysteries (Wednesday) of the Rosary. As soon as I started the first mystery (the Baptism of Jesus), I felt my foot go into some muddy water. What a great sense of humor our God has!
This day I would ascend to the highest altitude on the Camino in the Massif Central of France: 4,288 feet. But the ascents were fortunately gradual.
I saw the first sure signs of spring: many crocuses about to explode, and butterflies flying everywhere. What great reminders God gives that it won't be cold forever.
Butterflies have traditionally been a symbol of the Resurrection of Christ. Sometimes we celebrate Easter in March and sometimes in April (because Easter depends on the placement of Passover, since the Jews based their calendar on a lunar cycle). This year Easter will be April 24th, the latest it has been in decades.
Arriving in Saint-Chély-d'Olt was a real privilege, because the gîte was so joy-filled. Another pilgrim (Reynaud) was already there. Most gîtes allow the pilgrims to do their laundry in the bathroom. This one actually did it for you via washer and dryer. What a difference! Such a little thing made me so happy.
I tried to nap, but just ended up coughing the whole time (I've been fighting this for a few days now).
Dinner was quite the affair. The husband put on the apron and made like the best French chef around. In addition to a delicious soup, he made us pilgrims a "Canard au gratin" (duck in a potatoes au gratin mixture) that was to die for. In fact, Reynaud and I both burned our tongues, because we were so impatient to taste the next bite. It was impressive.
You could tell that the owners of the gîte (a husband and wife team) did this as a ministry to the lucky pilgrims who stopped there. I don't know what the other hostels were serving that night, but no one ate better than us.
Please pray that this cough will depart from me. I think it's a remnant from the "House in the Wilderness."
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