On Monday morning (April 4th) I had to make a decision: either head due west from Poudally to the farm at Trigodina, an easy 11.5 mile hike, or do the traditional pilgrim's path and go north to come south, passing through the town of Cahors, and walking about 18 miles. One could legitimately do either, as there are optional variants for the routes. Well, I chose the latter -- only because pilgrims' from time immemorial have crossed the Valentré Bridge, which spans the River Lot. The Valentré Bridge was started in 1308 -- how often do you have the opportunity to cross a 700-year-old bridge?
Since I didn't want to arrive too late at Trigodina, I walked as fast as I reasonably could (about 3 mph -- remember that I'm carrying a backpack). I soon discovered that I was back in the land of rolling hills. There were a lot of tiring ascents and descents to the route. The worst was having to descend and then ascend to cross under A20 ("A" stands for "Autoroute", the French equivalent of an American Intersate Highway). Couldn't they have placed that highway somewhere else? After all, the pilgrims were here first!
The scenery was gorgeous and it was a picture-perfect day: blue skies without a cloud.
I eventually made it to Cahors, and am glad that I traveled there. Cahors is stunning to see from the hills -- especially the Valentré Bridge. I descended to the town qnd decided to stop for lun,ch, before continuing on with the rest of my hike. I found a restaurant near the bridge, and ordered the special of the day for 9 € (appetizer and entrée). I had heard of the famous "Vin Noir" (black wine) of Cahors and wanted to try some (only because my feet were hurting -- so drinking the wine would be for "medicinal purposes"). When I told the waiter that I wanted to try the black wine (really a maroon), he took the carafe off the next table and gave it to me (they had finished lunch and were drinking coffee anyway). The wine was delicious, BTW! Also, I got my Camelback filled up at the restaurant, so I was ready for a few hours of walking.
After lunch it was time to get going, as it was 2 o'clock and the waiter told me that I had at least four hours more to hike. Crossing the bridge was pretty neat; fortunately it's closed to cars. Then came the price to pay: the ascent in leaving Cahors was high and treacherous. There were steps cut into the stone, but there were well above the standard 7.75" rise per step (someone should advise the town council in Cahors about this safety risk!).
After this ascent, I was well situated in the hills. But this wouldn't be the last ascent for the day. The area was very desolate. I walked for miles in the hills without seeing a soul (not an uncommon experince on the Camino). The trails in the hills were full of the 3-6" rocks that hikers detest.
I finally made it to the town of Labastide-Marnhac (sounds like an after-dinner drink, no?). I stopped to ask a man working outside of his house how far it was to Trigodina, but he had never heard of the place. He thought Cahors was to the south, so I pretty much discounted his sense of direction. At the town hall, I asked the person at the desk how far it was to Trigodina. They had never heard of the place either. Now I was getting worried. It was 5:30 pm and I was worried that Trigodina didn't exist. I kept walking south, as that's where the trail map had Trigodina. I was nervous and was really praying to the Lord, because I was running out of energy and didn't have time to make it to the next town to search for lodging.
The Lord had everything under control, because on the trail I saw the first sign for Trigodina. Alleluia! I got closer and closer, and finally I was there: a farm in the middle of nowhere. The farm is run by a father and son team. They reovated the barn a few years back into a guesthouse.
The place was great. A great shower (very important to a hiker) and great food (also important) were provided. I spent dinner mostly thanking God for getting me here and providing so well for me.
The bed was very comfortable and I slept well. In the morning I asked Remy (the owner of the farm) why no one knew of the name "Trigodina." He replied that it's not a geographic name, but rather only the name of the farm. He bought it with that name; it came from a word in the local dialect which meant place for food.
What a perfect place for me to stay!
