July 7, Le Sauvage and a scream in the night
- crystalkolt
- Jul 19, 2021
- 8 min read
Updated: Jul 25, 2021
L-R Me, Eveline (aka Auntie Caroline) Christiane (Hamburg), Zaira (close to Paris but originally from Algiers.
So waking up in Saugues in a bedroom that I shared with Andree Ann from Quebec and Caroline from Belgium I felt refreshed. Andree-Ann asked me if I had had a good night sleep, giving a knowing look to Caroline. Uh-oh... Apparently I snored but they reassured me that it wasn't that bad and with a chuckle we let it go and went on with our day. I'm going to touch on that topic in a later blog but now is not the time. We all did what we needed to do, washed, packed, ate a bit and each of us headed off in our own time towards Le Sauvage under a newly risen sun.
Once again I spent most of the walk that day on my own which I quite enjoyed primarily because it was simply a much easier walk on country lanes with a gentle incline. Also I was only planning on walking 19km to Le Sauvage which boasted of having a large gite that could house 40 people. I didn't document what I had for breakfast most days because for the most part my days would typically start with a cafe au lait and maybe a bread of some type or other. As the two months came and went I would celebrate when other breakfast foods were made available. A boiled egg would make me ecstatic! But more of that to come as well. Also interestingly to me, already by day 3, 19km seems on the easier spectrum when only two months earlier I had tried to walk 18 km returning home to have a glass of wine (big mistake) and essentially fell asleep with my head on the kitchen table.
Leaving Saugues I was greeted by walking into a sunrise lighting up a gorgeously serene pastoural scene.
The path was beautiful to walk on.
Along the Chemin de Saint Jacque the markers, which are red and white lines were easy to spot. The yellow line is not a symbol for The Camino. Every once in a while I would see a hiker in front or behind me but for the most part I walked alone at my own pace. On the Camino that is what happens. There were times when I walked with a buddy but for the most part you take your own route, walk at your own pace, stop when you want and spend the night where you want as well. When in life can you do that?
Along the route I passed beautiful flowers in bloom and crossed over babbling brooks.
After a few hours I stopped at a restaurant in a small hamlet for a delicious sandwich of goat pate and pickles. The owner had told me that this area was special because the Lord of the land had provided many officers for the King's army of which the locals were still proud.
I surprisingly arrived in Le Sauvage before the others. This oddly happened quite often over the two months of my Camino perhaps proving the tortoise and the hare parable, or slow and steady wins the race. Nevertheless I was delighted to arrive at the gite Le Domain de Sauvage by early afternoon.
This large building looked like a former garrison which had been transformed into a lovely and popular restaurant, hostel and campground with large (by European standards) campers parked on the grounds. On the Camino, when arriving at a place where you want to spend the night the routine is as follows: book a bed (or a room if one is available and you want to spend the money), decide if you want to purchase a pilgrim meal, get your credential stamped, find where you are to leave your boots and walking sticks, also figure out what protocol this particular gite has for backpacks, to prevent bedbugs some require the backpack to be put in a garbage bag, some prefer the backpacks to be left in a vestibule and some places don't mind you taking your backpack to your room. In Domain de Sauvage I was allowed to bring my backpack into a room with six beds. It was lovely, clean and it was obvious that three of the six beds were already occupied by other hikers although the room was empty at the time. I showered, changed into clean clothes, washed my dirty clothing, set out my sleeping bag and went in search for a snack before supper.
Le Domain de Sauvage
Soon afterwards I would meet my gang from Saugues, Andree Ann, Caroline and new people that would become members of my Camino family for a week or so. Young Dylan who was about 22 years old, studying music in Holland and was determined to walk to St. Jean Pied de Port in a couple of week and beautiful Fanny from Paris who was simply enjoying an adventure before another year of university with plans to get into medical school. This beautiful gite had a two story restaurant and bar, delicious food, an outdoor patio and great ambiance. When chatting with Dylan and Fanny I enjoyed the confidence and joie de vivre of these smart young people. I mentioned that my husband Mark had family that ran a gite in Montcuq and that I was excited to see them again. I pronounced Montcuq with a 'k' sounding 'q' which got a bit of a snicker. They tried to convince me that the pronunciation was Montcu , no 'k' but I insisted that I was certain that it was a hard k. Months later I realized that they were trying to get me to pronounce Montcu as in Mon Cul (my butt). Hilarious! Whatever! Talking about teasing and joie de vie, at one point I passed a table of three elderly women enjoying wine and friendship out on the patio. They asked me which room I was staying in and we quickly discovered that we were roommates. Returning to the restaurant from our room the eldest of the three teased me in English with a raspy french accented voice, reminding me of my Auntie Caroline, ' Ah Christal, did you take anything frrum our room?' at which point I quipped back ' Only the good things'. They cackled and we became friends.
It seems that these friends have been enjoying an annual vacation on Le Chemin de St Jacques together for many years. They no longer backpacked, preferring shorter treks and having their backpacks transported for them and they obviously were having a wonderful time together. Eveline, the one that reminded me of my Aunt was from Bretagne, Christiane was a doctor from Hamburg and Zaira lived close to Paris but was born in Algiers. I enjoyed a glass of wine with them although I was cautious remembering my 18km +wine+ head-sleeping -on-kitchen-table experience back in Flin Flon.
THE GERMAN PRAYER
Back in Le Puy, following Mass all pilgrims were invited to both leave a prayer and take a prayer from a box filled with small folded pieces of paper divided by language. You were to take this prayer with you throughout your Camino. I pulled a folded prayer from the English section and it wasn't until the next day when I had remembered it and pulled it out of my pouch to read it once I had settled into my room. Apparently I had accidentally pulled a prayer from the German section. I was delighted to show this prayer to Christiane, the doctor from Hamburg who translated it to me as ' May I find a great love'. What a wonderful thing to pray about and I was happy to pray for that person throughout my camino.
Before supper we relaxed in our room. I charged my phone (another important thing to do on arrival), read my book and snoozed a bit. I took advantage of having a doctor in the room to show her the blood red rash on my ankles. She took one look and said 'Ach, is nothing. Only a heat rash.' and that was that. I've added a link below because it did alarm me a bit. I had never seen anything like it before. Just recently I did some research and she was absolutely right. The rash did occur one other time, again after I had decided to rest along the path and I was convinced that it was an allergic reaction to something but I think the doctor was correct.
Supper was packed with hikers, guests and campers. Those purchasing the 'pilgrims meal' were seated together enjoying good conversation and delicious food, wine and coffee. The meal ended with a amazing dessert that I need to learn how to recreate! It was called Fromage Blanche which seemed to be something between a soft cheese and yogurt and came with a sweet syrup on the side. Lord it was good.
Syrup, Fromage Blanche and Cafe au Lait
Before dinner Caroline (Belgium) and I decided that we would walk to Aumont-Aubrac together the next day. This was going to be a 28km hike. Caroline's feet were already showing signs of distress with several blisters and she was starting to walk with her sandals instead of walking boots. She decided that she would transfer her backpack to the Aumont-Aubrac gite and convinced me to do the same. With only three days of walking under my belt I didn't feel confident that I could carry by backpack 30 km yet. Caroline came up with a great plan to put most of our belongings into black plastic garbage bags that would be transferred ahead with our heavier gear and that way we would still have our efficient but very light backpacks while we walked. I was nervous to leave my precious belonging in a garbage bag with a forwarding address but she was completely confident that it would work and I decided to trust her expertise.
Returning to our room after supper the sun was setting and the surrounding fields were stunning in the glowing light.
It was warm and even with the thick walls of the fortress-style structure the bedroom was a little on the warm side. One woman chose to sleep au natural while others preferred a blanket and I once again climbed into my small versatile sleeping bag. The great thing about my sleeping bag is that one side is simply a sheet while the other is quilted. It works quite well. When you are warm you can sleep on the quilt and cover yourself with the sheet and when you are cool you can do the reverse.
We all fell into a deep sleep. I didn't worry about snoring because I thought that there was a good possibility that I wouldn't be the only one. Then in the middle of the night I could tell that Zaira, who was sleeping across from me had left her bed and the room, I assumed to use the washroom. A few minutes later she gave a blood curtling scream for her friend who ran to her...there was a murmured conversation then cackling laughter. Thus ended day three.
Le Sauvage at sunset.
NOTES HOME
Me: Ok, so I have very limited wifi here so will do my best to let you know what my day was like. First of all it was so much better than the day before. The roads were either ashfault or sandy roads similar to the roads at Plage Albert or Tannis Lake. I was a 19km walk. I decided on this (as did everyone else) mostly to recover from the day before. I made record time and arrived in le Sauvage, which I think is only this large stone building called Le Domain de Sauvage. Hat to brag but I will, I was the first one to arrive from my group. Apparently (and no doubt) I snored last night so was teased by the Quebecois gal. She's quite interesting and all in all has a good heart and we all laughed about it. Gratefully though tonight I am sleeping with three older women, one from Bretagne, one from Hamburg and the third close to Paris. They are fun. The woman from Bretagne reminds me of Auntie Caroline. When I dropped my backpack in our room and returned to get my credential stamped Eveline (the Auntie Caroline woman) asked me 'Eh, Christal, deed you take anything from our room?' I quipped back, ' only the good things'. We laughed and had a fun chat about who everyone is and where everyone lives etc. They are a good lot.
About an hour before arriving in Le Sauvage I stopped in a little hamlet for a sandwich. It was delicious! Pate de chevrieulle (not sure if I spelled that correctly but I took a photo of the sandwich and the menu for you to see. Apparently this area is special because 'the Lord of the land provided many officers for the King's army'. I took a video of the land with what I think is the manor in the distance.
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