While I'm sure those responsible for mapping out the trail over the centuries would deny it, there's almost something sadistic about how each day begins. Usually it's an easy meander through the town, followed by a hellacious climb into the mountains or hills. It reminds me of the feeling when I first started shaving. After the blade shave I would slap some Aqua Velva on my face. Oh the burn! Well, leaving these towns is kind of like that. It's like they want you to get into the hike right away -- no messing around. So after the initial climb of one hour you are exhausted -- and there are still five hours of hiking left to go!
I got turned around leaving Cajarc, and almost went the wrong way. Fortunately, someone steered me to the right path. As you leave town, those townsfolk who are in the streets cheer you on by saying, «Bonne route!» or «Bonne continuation!» It's a very nice feeling.
I climbed and descended for about an hour after leaving Cajarc, passing through the hamlet of Gaillac. Then the climbing got serious. There were some high hills with a lot of those 6" rocks, which play havoc with hiker's feet.
There weren't a lot of towns on the route this day, just country trails. There was a water faucet advertised at Saint-Jean de-Laur, but it was like the majority of others: still turned off for the winter.
As I looked around I noticed some great fields of dandelions. They just made my day.
Also, I noticed that the hills had kind of flattened out. First there were mountains on this odyssey, then large hills. Now it's getting as flat as a pancake (which reminds me that I always have a great time when I go with my mom to the IHOP. She orders the Belgian waffle since she hasn't eaten pancakes since her childhood. Apparently, my grandmother once undercooked her pancakes, and my mom cut into one of them and batter flew out. Hence she became a dedicated "Waffler.").
I have been seeing hundreds of devotional roadside crosses along the Camino de Santiago. Each is beautiful and moving in it's own right. I finally figured out something: on the base of these crosses, pilgrims place stones. So when you pass the cross (often at the crossroads of two routes), there will be dozens of stones at the base. Since this is primarily a penitential pilgrimage, pilgrims carry stones throughout the day, then lay them at the base of the cross. It's a way of saying, "Jesus, my sins added to the burden you carried on the Holy Cross. Therefore, I'm laying this weight (stone) at the base of this cross, because only you can heal me of my sins and take away my burden." It brings tears to my eyes when I see so many stones stacked at the base of these wayside crosses.
By 2:00 in the afternoon I had made it to my goal for the day: Limogne en-Quercy. I checked into the community hostel (gîte), but wasn't dragging like usual. I still had some stamina left and chided myself for not choosing a destination a little bit farther down the road. I then checked out the town.
Limogne en-Quercy is a typical French village, possessing a grocery store, a bakery, a bank, two restaurants, a theater (with showings the last Thursday of each month!), a gorgeous Romanesque parish church, a butcher, and a 5¢ & dime... All in a three block radius! This is a town with a population less than 800, yet it sustains all these wonderful entities! Again, the US needs to rethink our urban planning, because I think that Americans would love to live in small towns like these.
I got some simple things to cook for supper. It's amazing what delicious pre-prepared food you can find at French butcher's shops!
God had bestowed a wonderfully sunny day on the region of the Lot. It was blue skies and warm temps. Later in the early evening, the manager of the gîte and her associate introduced me to some English ex-pats. They have a beautiful house and an even more beautiful English garden at the end of the village. Everything was in full spring bloom, so I had arrived at the perfect time.
God always gets me where I need to be!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
