July 10, 2019 Not what you expect
- crystalkolt
- Aug 9, 2021
- 10 min read
Not what you expect. I have to admit that was a reoccuring theme throughout the Camino even though I started this adventure with an open mind and seemingly little expectation. Who does not want to wake up in southern France, go to a village cafe and start your day with a fresh croissant and cafe au lait. Yet after a week of walking, although loving every morning croissant, I found myself checking menues for porridge. I wasn't expecting that. But today the lesson was repeated over and over again.
Leaving Nasbinals I enjoyed the unique art displays in town and I paused at this little chalet dedicated to Le Chemin de Saint Jacques de Compostelle. Seeing the kilometers then, the numbers meant little more than 'Santiago is a long long long ways away, Roncevaux (Roncesvalles) is a long ways away and Conques is far away. Today after having had walked the Camino for two months, as I write this, I have an almost visceral understanding of those distances. I know exactly how long 78km is. I know exactly how long it will take me to walk it. I have an irresistable desire to examine my feet. I have developed a different and new appreciation of distance. I remember my son Julian, who had walked the Camino a few years earlier commenting that he could look at a town in the distance and judge how far away it was.
Leaving Nasbinals I headed towards the highlands. By now, when walking I would notice the ground, every pebble, every rock, the width of the path, the angle of the slope and what plants were close by. To look further I would stop before looking around. I would notice the stone wall separating the pastures, I would notice the terrain nearby, whether there were pilgrims or farmers in the distance or whether I was alone again, I would look further at trees in the distance guessing how far away they were, how many steps and how many hours it would take to get there. I would look further yet to what might appear as a town maybe five kilometers away. If there were mountains up ahead I knew that I would have to go over them, there was literally no getting around them. By day two this became apparent. When driving to the Rocky Mountains in Canada you see mountains getting closer in the distance and are excited and impressed by their beauty. Leaving St. Privat D'Allier, my first thought was, 'look at those beautiful mountains' and my second thought was ' wait! Do I have to climb over those things. O Lord!' Finally you look at the sky, the clouds above you and those in the distance. I am an amateur small boat sailor and I'm very familiar with looking at the sky for tell tale signs of weather. Walking in the heat of the summer in France, the weather was thankfully consistently clear blue skies throughout the months of July and August, but nevertheless after looking at the ground, and the landscape, I would always examine the sky above me and the sky up ahead in the distance for clues about the future.
After leaving Nasbinals I climbed to the Plateau de l'Aubrac on le Massif Central, entering through a series of wooden gates to walk through pastures in the highlands, past docile cows relaxing in the sunshine, a breed called Aubrac (named after the region) and a hut on the heights where shepherds (and hikers) can seek protection during a storm. It was a lovely walk. I had been plannning on meeting up with my walking buddies in Aubrac or St. Chely D'Aubrac by the end of the day but I enjoyed walking these first few hours on my own.
The hut
At the end of the pastureland the path led me to a statue of the Virgin Mary and Child. It was so strikingly beautiful to me as it quite literally came out of the blue.
My son and his wife had just shared with me two weeks earlier that they were going to have a baby in the New Year and so this statue gave me pause. The statue seemed so realistically happy. So often statues of Mary and Jesus have a sadness about them. I was compelled to stop for a few minutes here in thought, reflection and to rest my feet. The statue was pointing directly to my first stop in the town of Aubrac and I knew that I didn't have much farther to go before a longer lunch rest and finding more water. Just as I was about to leave the statue to continue down the hill towards the town, who did I see bounding through the pastureland towards me with a big smile but none-other than Jean Luc. It was surprisingly lovely to see a familiar face. As you will see in the photo below, I was not the 'cool' person in the gang. Andree-Ann was the fun, gregarious hiker, young Fanny was gorgeous, intelligent and lovely to be with, Caroline was kind, good humoured and experienced hiker and I was a little awkward with poor french, a little self-concious, a little cautious - since I was the only one intending to walk the full 1500kms, and did not necessary have the best hiking attire. But Jean-Luc gave me an affable embrace before I left him to enjoy the statue as I headed into town. It was a nice moment.
Leaving the Pasteur de l'Aubrac into Aubrac which was a village with the distinction of protecting pilgrims walking on Le Chemin de St. Jacques. Apparently a bell would be rung during storms to guide people on the highlands and forest safely to the village. Even during the warm summer day that I had spent on the plateau it was cooler and windier than expected so that I wore my wind jacket and fastened my Tilly hat under my chin to prevent it from flying away for good measure. You can hear the wind in one of my videos.
On arriving at the Eglise Notre Dame Des Pauvres I met up with most of my fellow pilgrims. Below is myself (yes, definitely 'uncool' just off of the plateau with pink trekking pants, red wind jacket and Tilly Hat strapped under my chin), Laure (Carmelite nun whom I had met on Day 2), Andree Ann from Quebec and Laure's mother whom she met on Le Chemin.
The Eglise Notre Dame des Pauves is a 12 C church next to an English style tower which had been used as a hospital for pilgrims. I found out that the tower was now a Gite where pilgrims could stay which I would have loved to have stayed at if I had had more time. When I arrived at Aubrac it was only noon and I was only half way to St. Cely d'Aubrac where I was to spend the evening at Le Camping de Fanny et Jeremy with Andree Ann, Jean Luc, Fanny and Sandrine (a new person in the group). Looking at it now, a year later I am surprised that I was already getting into a routine by day 5.
In the church I learned how pilgrims could easily get lost or attacked either on the highlands or in the forest so that a special prayer was said on their behalf before their leaving the village. Apparently a military attachment was also created in Aubrac to protect pilgrims on their journey.
Close by the Church and at the entrance of the town was a lovely restaurant with an outdoor patio view of the pastureland. I had a delicous bowl of cheese and potato soup. The restaurant also held a little museum in the basement area which I enjoyed before continuing on my journey.
After leaving the restaurant Andree Ann and I headed off towards St. Cely d'Aubrac where we would meet up with the others. It seemed that Andree Ann was not interested in company and I was always content to walk alone so I held back until she was a few yards ahead. It is so interesting. On the Camino if you hold back for 5 minutes you literally may never see a person again. It really wasn't long before Andree Ann was out of sight.
I had no worries on this day though. The sun was shining and the path was easy to find with its red and white striped symbols guiding me forward. I left the town past the farmland, into the forest, past the babbling brook and the moss covered rocks. As mentioned above, soon Andree Ann was out of sight and I leisurely enjoyed my beautiful surroundings taking photos along the way. I passed one other hiker, a woman about my age walking towards Aubrac but other than that I enjoyed the solitude of a beautiful day in a beautiful environment. This was what I was expecting the Camino to be more like rather than the rugged mountain paths around St. Privat D'Allier.
After about an hour of walking I checked my Miam Miam Do Do app to see how much further I had to go before arriving at the town where I was to meet the others. I couldn't believe my eyes. Looking at the map I could see the blue dot (which was me) in the middle of a forest with no visible path, or road to St. Cely d'Aubrac. I obviously was not on the Chemin de St. Jacques. Expanding the map I was finally able to find the town west of me by a number of kilometers but seemingly no way to get there. I walked a little further through the forest to an opening with, yes you guessed it, another cross which seemed more foreboding than encouraging and simply stopped to think. I accepted the fact that I was 'kind-of' lost. I had already walked for at least an hour. I really didn't want to walk for an hour back to Aubrac and try again, that would make for a very VERY long day but I wasn't sure whether going forward was a good idea either. Prayers for lost pilgrims and bells to guide them home made a lot of sense at that moment. Many people have asked me whether I was frightened walking alone and getting lost. In all honesty, I never was. Perhaps that wish of 'bon courage' in Le Puy worked better than I thought, but when I had issues I simply problem solved. I kept thinking, 'I'm in France, there are villages everywhere and it's impossible to get really lost. It's not like northern Canada with 1000km of forest outside of my backyard'. But none the less... here I was ... lost. Just when I was about to turn back to retrace my steps deciding on the 'better the devil you know' plan, I met up with the hiker that I had passed an hour earlier. I explained to her that I thought I was lost, that I was trying to find St. Cely and whether she could help me get there. As it turned out that was exactly where she was heading. She had parked her car there and was enjoying a 20km hike that day and she would happily guide me to the town.
Unfortunately, to get there through the forest we needed to overshoot the town by a couple of kilometers and then work our way back. I told her no problem I was grateful to accompany her. Now, she was a very fit 61 yr old hiker without a back pack and she seemed to fly through the forest, scamper over stones in the creeks and shimmy over creek banks. I was reminded of Julie Andrews hopping from stone to stone in the opening number of The Sound of Music but imagining what I must look like with my 18 lb backpack lumbering at top speed over unfamiliar territory behind my gazelle-like guide. Every once in a while she would ask 'ca va?' And I'd shout out 'bien' feeling comforted that I was still able to keep up albeit inelegantly.
Just before meeting her, I actually had received a phone call from Sandrine, the new person in our group asking if I was OK and reminding me that we were meeting at 'le camping de Fanny and Jeremy'. This was unusual. Nobody called me and only a few knew my France phone number but we had shared our contact information a day or two earlier as we set up a What's App group. So that had been fortunate for me. When she called me I hadn't realized that I was lost, and in fact I believe it was this phone call that encouraged me to check my location on my Miam Miam Do Do app because I was so certain that I was on the correct path and it had never occured to me to check earlier. When my guide and I arrived in the outskirts of town she mentioned to me that we would be crossing a very beautiful roman bridge leading into town. I slowed down momentary to get my bearings and she was off like a flash. You can see her in the photo below decending the hill towards the town. They say that 'the camino provides' and it certainly did in this instance and I am very grateful to this woman for her help.
So after more than 10 hrs of walking I arrived in town and headed to Chez Fanny et Jeremy.
I felt and looked like the statue below a I entered the Gite Chez Fanny et Jeremy looking for a bed and my fellow pilgrims. I met 'Fanny' I assume and gave my name announcing that 'I have arrived'. She looked at me and said, 'sorry but you are not registered, we are not expecting you'. I was definitely not expecting this. Luckily I had Sandrine's phone number and gave her a call. She said, we told you that we are at Le Camping Fanny et Jeremy. 'Le Camping' Oh my lord... are we ... CAMPING?! I had a sleeping bag but I was tired and wanted a bed, a real bed but I had no choice. I found out where the campground was and started walking again.
Sure enough I found the campground nearby, with my friends waiting for me and discovered that I was going to be spending the night with Sandrine in an above ground, treehouse type tent. Huh! I was not expecting that! I climbed up the ladder into the tent and found shangri la. There was a mattress with sleeping bag and pillow with clean sheets. Under the tent was a bin with a lock to store our backpacks as well. It was perfect.
That night Sandrine, Jean Luc, Fanny, Andree Ann and myself went into town and had a wonderful meal with good conversation, laughter and commaraderie. As it had turned out, Andree Ann had also become lost on the same path arriving late and we had a good natured chuckle about it all over a delicious glass of wine in a magical little town in southern France. Now THAT I was expecting to happen... at some point on the Camino.
That night Sandrine and I climbed into our tent nest, buttoned up our tent flap and I think I had one of my best sleeps of my life.
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