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Day 37: Mont Marsan to Saint Severs

Today,s walk is dedicated to my brother Kevin who is just beginning his cancer journey. I pray for him.

I bet you didn,t know that bullfighting is very popular in this part of France. They don,t kill them here though they just lull them to sleep. The crowds go nuts with boredom. Weird!

Well today was very pleasant. Overcast, very humid, smells of rain. We covered off 22 km in about 4.5 hours. Pretty good. Stopped in one village where a cafe was open and had a coffee au lait. People were very friendly. You know I have found that throughout this trip if you just try to communicate, no matter how bad your French is, they will respond in kind. Have a few laughs as well but that is okay. My walking companion is amazed at how well my reception is.

Oh, I wanted to mention that the woman who welcomed us in Saint Marsan was a real sweatheart. She was ex French Air Force having done 18 years as an Air Traffic Controller. Now a nessage therapist like my daughter in law.  Can,t wait to tell this Dutch woman when we see her. Yes, apparently they are staying at the same place as us this evening. Can,t wait to see the look on her face when I tell her I got a nessage from a French Air Traffic Controller. She will have a righteous shit-fit. Yesssss! Love it.

Saint Sever is a very old village. They are or were very religious here as they have two churches. Beautiful. Jacobins have a monastary here as well. And like every single hamlet, village, town or city, one has to climb a hill before entering it. This place had a huge hill. Hard at the end of a day,s walk. Oh well.

Oh, I got a haircut and beard trim today. It was getting unruly.  The little children were running away from me when I approached. “ Look mommy that man is scary” I would hear them say. So, I found a hairdresser in Saint -Sever. My two sweathearts:

We had a great time and a few laughs.

The one on the left cut my hair and trimmed my beard. What do you think?

It is cooler though. I also asked her why our eye-brows remained the same colour when everything else turned grey. She shrugged her shoulders and said: “un mystere de la vie Monsieur.”

See, I knew it.

This here song is dedicated to the Dutch woman:

Day 35 and 36

No wifi yesterday. Two posts here. Al most into my last week so each walking day will have a dedication:

Day 35: Bourriot Bergonce to Neuf Fontaine

Today,s walk is dedicated to my wife Marijke, who passed away last December.

Neuf Fontaine means new fountains in English. I can’t wait to see these new fountains??? I think.

Given that I described the Pilgrim’s life over the past two posts, I’ll briefly describe the landscape we experienced over the past two days in two words……..ugly!

This area is called Lalond in Aquitaine. It used to be a huge swamp that was subsequently drained. The soil is of a rough textured, charcoal coloured consistency. Very flat and monotonous terrain. Hot and dusty. Our trail was a narrow pathway on ground that was sandy loam. Very difficult to walk in. Added to that we had the smidgens again, which I desribed a few days ago. With temperatures in the low 30s it made for a very hard slog.

It is like walking through sand dunes. We have had 2 days of this. Expecting a third. Yuck!

Forgot. Want to show you where we stayed in Bassanne:

Place is called Moulin de Piss, translated to piss in the Mill. No, not really, but there you have it a  restored 15th Century mill (Moulin). Don,t know what Piis is in English and I was afraid to ask.

Captieux was a small village, nothing open. Unbelievable that there was no wifi anywhere in that small village. People in Bourriot Bergance were very unfriendly. My walking companion, a European, was disgusted. He could not believe how anal the place was. I told him that these places would be bankrupt in two months in Canada. I am sorry but I just do not understand the mindset. It is as if, as customers, we are a huge burdon to their ”Riesta” routine.

Couple we stayed with in Bazas. Wonderful.

Now back to our regular programming.

One of the pleasures of this walk is the silence…deafeningly serene.

Some of you have expressed concern about my well being and enjoyment of this journey after reading my posts about the Pilgrim,s life. I can assure you that those posts were done purely for the fun of it with my tongue firmly in my cheek.

 

Day 36: Neuf Fontaine to Mont Marsan

 

Today,s walk is dedicated to Joanne Daly. Another beautiful woman taken from us way too soon.

Ran into,or should I say, walked into two Dutch women today. One was quite elderly – the wicked witch of the west – and her younger cohort – the witch in training. Now I say this because they were some piece of work. My Dutch friends, Berry and my Limburg friends would be very proud of me for sticking up for Limburgers.

This woman was fron the north of the Netherlands. Exactly where I am not sure but she immediately gave us a bad impression. Remember a way back in post one or two and I mentioned that Dutch guy from North Holland who was such an asshole. Well this lady could have been his mother. I like to call her a lass-hole. She was religious, rightious and retentive in an anal sort of way. When the expression anal retentive came into being they must have been thinking of her. She didn,t at first know that my wife was from Limburg, the Netherlands or that I had visited the Netherlands many, many times and was intimately familiar with the Netherlands and Limburg. Here is what she said: Limburgers are a bunch of farmers who cannot properly speak the Dutch language. Nobody north of Eindhoven can understand a word Limburgers say. Limburgers are ignorant people who should be part of Belgium. Hag n slag, that chocolate delight for breakfast, is Limburg,s contribution to the world. She did,nt know what it was….and on and on she went.

She looked down on us as part of the unwashed. I told her that as a pilgrim she was part of the great unwashed herself and uncouth as well. When she walked into a French vilkage the dogs went wild. I told here that Limburg vlie (pie) was to die for and that being a Limburger meant a love of life. With her, life was suffrage, suffering. No fun, no joie de vivre. Just suffering. She probably passed out of Pilgrim school top of her class. Because to her being  a pilgrim meant real suffering, no fun.. Her favourite expression must have been “ grin and bear it.” Her favourite colour was black and after failing to walk on water it was her kind that invented the wooden shoes. What a piece of work. We parted company tout suite.

The walk itself was uneventful. We are getting closer to our destination. It will be bittersweet for me. Wanting to finish but not really wanting to end this wonderful experience.

Covered off 24 kilometers today. Overcast and cloudy, just like our Dutch female cohorts. Hopefully we will not see them again but somehow I doubt it. Like a bad cold these two will probably linger on. Oh, and she was always correcting me like an old school marm on steroids.

Need a positive song today.

Day 32: Bassanne to Bazas

24 kilometers done. Cool early morning followed by heat late morning, early afternoon. Landscape has changes from lush vineyards to scrubgrass. Hot and dry. We appear to be following a valley but the higher hills seem to have flattened out and are way off in the distance. A wide open plain that is boringly unattractive. But hey, I am not complaining one bit. Reminds me of that barren stretch of scenery between Ottawa and Toronto along highway 7. Just about lunchtime we passed what appeared to be a flying club. Just by chance we walked up to the clubhouse wondering if anyone was there. It turned out there was a guy there who had been to Canada on a flying holiday. And, they had a well stocked bar with very cold beer. My walking companion and I eyed the beer and were able to buy two ice cold 1664s. Arrived in Bazas around 1400. Bazas is a cathedral town. Beautiful. Here come da Judge….Peter His name is Peter and he is a retired judge from Ghent, Belgium. He is also crazy. You meet all kinds of characters out here. He kept talking about running out of water. Hates religion and tells me Lourdes is a big scam. He is a lawyer and a judge so he must be crazy. Probably hit himself over the head with the gavel one too many times. That,s the judge on the right. Staying at a retired couple’s place in their home in Bazas.  They volunteer to provide shelter and food to Pilgrims like me. Unbelievable hospitality for strangers but that is the Compostelle way. I wonder if they would do the same in Canada. Great. Dinner! Four courses. Another wonderful evening.   Another Badfinger classic. Peter Hamm, the guy second from the right killed himself at the age of 27 because the band’s American manager ripped them off to the point that they could not even pay the rent. His writing partner, the guy with the black hair, Evans, killed himself a few years later for the same reason. World famous but broke. Hamm blamed himself for the band,s financial state of affairs.

Day 31: St Ferme to Bassanne

I found wifi. Of course in a local cafe. Great beer.

I wonder if St Ferme lives up to its name!

Yup, it has. But, how can one complain about this when one can eat like this here:

                                                  Those two women were angels – and good cooks too. That guy there is Philippe from Luxumbourg. Just started walking with him. It is always best to be with someone on these trips, especially in the bush. If you break an ankle you will need some one there to help you.

The walk today was normal. 25 kilometers. Went fast as we talked almost the whole way. What about you may ask? Well stupid stuff really. What else can one talk about while walking on a 900 kilometer trip as we are all crazy to do this. I mean you have to be.

Look at this picture. Sunflowers on the right and wines to the left. All the major food groups in my diet at least. Love it.

Come to France they said……okay!

Song today? Well it is my grandchild’s birthday tomorrow. 5 months old. Love her. Ruby…

Pascal: I found wifi.

John

Day 30: St Foy de Grand to St Ferme

I was just kidding. Found wifi in the old Pelerin Hotel.

Camped last night in St Foy de Grand. Beautiful town. Larger than what I am used to but again very disappointed in that the only restaurent open was a pizza place. I do not want to keep going on about this but one of the things I was really excited about and looking forward to with this walk is good, rich French cooking and fine French wine. Alors not to be. Over the past 30 days I have only had 3 meals in the French way and a little wine. Why? Nothing open on any day at any time. Oh well, the walk, the people here and the people I have met more than make this worthwhile. I can always have French Fries and a nice glass of Bordeaux “fanta.”

Church at St Foy.

Dordogne River, St Foy.

Weird but the whole campsite was filled with Brits. At first I couldn,t understand a word they said as I have been listening to and trying to speak Frecnh for the past 30 days. And while it is still very warm during the day it is now unbearably cool in a tent. I was very cold last night..I don,t want to camp anymore. I hate camping. Why? Other campers and what would normaly take a few ninutes at home to do takes 1/2 hour in a tent. My wife used to say: “ I have such a nice kitchen at home, a nice washing machine and drier and such a nice bed, bath and shower. So what on earth am I doing here?” You know, I can’t argue with that.

On my way at 0615. Dark and cool. It stayed that way until about 1030 and then it got hot. Up to 30 today. I was able to cover off about 28 kilometers. Not bad but glad to reach my destination of St Ferme. St Ferme has an Abby that goes back to the 12th century. Unbelievable.

The landscape today was covered by  dark purple grapes. To me they looked like Concord but I know the French would cringe if they heard me say that. Here is a picture. See how happy I am here:

                                                           Not at me but what,s behind me. Contented. And there were fields and fields of them. It would be as if the entire wheatfield of Saskatchewan was covered by grapes…beautiful, beautiful grapes, mmmm, mmmm good. Thirsty?

By the way. I am out of the Perigord region but I forgot to tell you that the Perigord is separated into 4 regions. Perigord Verte or green on account of the colour of the rivers and streams in this area. Then Perigord Blanc on account of the white limestone they use for many of the buildings and churches / abbeys you see here. Beautiful. Perigord Noir due to the darkness of their forests and then Perigord Rouge for the wine. The area I am going through now is not Perigord but Gironde. Beautiful, not Perigord, but I thought I would pass that on as part of this travelogue.

 

This song was written by Badfinger. Harry Niilson and Mariah Cary covered it and made big hits out of it but Peter Hamm of Badfinger wrote it with Evans. It is raw and basic and I like this version the best.