I wanted to see a doctor for my cough and chest congestion. Sr. Marie Robert at the convent arranged an appointment in the next town along the route: Espalion. Sister assured me that I could stay for the 11:30 Mass at the convent and have plenty of time to hike to my 1:30 appointment, as it would be "an easy walk along the route -- barely an hour," she told me.
I concelebrated with Père Marcel, the eighty-something chaplain of the convent. The Mass was attended by the active and retired members of the community and a few local lay folks. It was an honor to be in the company of so many women who had faithfully served God for so many years.
Following the Mass of the Annunciation, Sr. Marie Robert gave me a little "goodie bag," which contained an orange, an apple, three slices of bread, two wedges of cheese, and a big blob of something sweet.
So I left at 12:15 on this "easy walk along the route," towards the doctor's office in Espalion.
At first the route followed the River Lot, and since I knew that the Lot flowed to Espalion, I thought that I would just be walking along the river banks. Wrong! Soon the trail had me once again ascending into the hills overlooking the town and surrounding countryside. I ascended and ascended and ascended. I just didn't understand the logic of the Camino's route. But making a 1,000 mile walking pilgrimage isn't necessarily logical!
This brings to a point. The Camino in France follows a path that has been taken by pilgrims for roughly 1,000 years. You would think that the medieval pilgrims (hungry, tired, cold, and their feet poorly clad), would have found the quickest, easiest, and most direct route between point A and point B.
Now I know that if you are walking alongside a river the mileage can add up as it twists and turns. But ascending so far in the hills to eventually descend to Espalion, some 4.3 miles away just defies logic.
Perhaps the motivation was to give the pilgrims of yore a beautiful, scenic presentation of the country; to inspire them along the route; to show them the handiwork of God. And if that's the case, they did well. I would have to really study a topographic map to understand all of this. But then again, maybe God just wants me to stop thinking so much and just joyfully admire his creation?
Coming into Espalion I was overwhelmed with the view. The Camino enters the town through a large city park. On this warm spring day people were sitting on benches, riding bikes, painting, and some men were even playing pétanque (bocce ball) on a soft gravel surface. I would have joined in, except for the doctor's appointment.
As you approach the town's center, the architecture changes from modern to older to medieval. The "Old Bridge" (which is being renovated) crosses the River Lot, and has beautiful houses right on the river. The foundations of the homes are in the water. That might mean a wet basement, but darn it's beautiful! Oh to live in one of these treasures, which have been decorated so beautifully. I would love to watch the world go by from my porch-perch in a house on the river on a nice summer night.
It took me 2.5 hours to make this simple jaunt, basically because of the ascents. I was way late for the appointment, but the good doctor saw me anyway.
He said I had what's going around: a chest cold, and gave me some prescriptions.
I had no idea where to stay, but I saw a sign for a gîte right down the block. I was the first one in and got the bed next to the heater. Later, Rudolph a pilgrim from Brussels arrived. Getting there early also assures a lower bunk bed. The upper bunk would not be my thing!
Since the gîte didn't offer a meal, I went to a local restaurant, which offered a specially-priced pilgrim's menu. It was outstanding! Three delicious courses, including a piece of fish that just melted in your mouth, and a dessert that somehow combined pineapple, bananas and chocolate. What a taste sensation!
