I was given my own tray of things for breakfast, so I could leave whenever I was ready...
It was a misty start to the day. I soon passed this lamp-post, "Joy isn't in things, it is in us", which I was to "see" again when I reached the "Irish" gite in Moissac, as their computer desktop picture, though their version was lit by more sun I think, not mist as on this morning.
Maybe it is a thought that most who walk for an extended period come to believe and treasure. As you carry your simple belongings across the kilometres you walk, you come to recognise the simplicity of what is important in life: -people, both those around and those remembered from home- and the environment.
My fascination with the roof-lines in this area continued and the verdant moss on this stone wall I also loved.
The day started with mist, but gradually became sunnier and quite warm so that the paths shaded by trees were welcome.
The landscape was changing as I approached Cajarc, with flatter hills and more trees.
This was a land that also had its ancient stories hidden in the stones, and the track passed by this dolmen.
This is but one version of the photo -there is also a version that gives a better idea of the large size of these stones. But that photo has me in it, taken by a kind person in a French group whose path I was to often cross over the coming days- but as the blog-author I get to suppress photos of me if I wish! But I thank Annie for her continued interest and e-mails as I progressed, which meant so much from a fellow walker, and I hope to hear of your group's next stage in 2009!
Another sign of the changing landscape was this vineyard. The climb up on the road alongside it is actually much steeper than it looks!
It was a steepish, rocky descent into Cajarc, as the town lay in a basin surrounded by cliffs and in the heat that had developed, I was glad to arrive at the gite Le Pelerin which was an absolute haven of kindness.
I was given a bed in a lower room and it looked straight out the door over this garden to the cliffs beyond. I stripped off my shoes and socks, raised my legs up onto a pillow and lay there to relax with a wonderful sense of well-being.
Paddy, who is my husband - Paddy, Patrick, is my husband. He would hate it if he knew I was writing about him. He´s English, a retired newspaperman, a thinker, a wag, a working-class ...
2 weeks ago