I heard rain falling heavily and steadily all night, another day to set off in the wet. Luckily, the rain became lighter with morning, and it was not too muddy. But it still somehow seemed a long way to the Abbaye de Sauvelade.
Just past the abbey I was caught up with by the English couple from Nogoro, and walked with them all the way to Navarrenx. I was just in the process of stripping my polyprops from underneath my shorts, in a bus shelter, when they arrived. After so many weeks of walking, I guess I had become quite brazen about where I changed. However, when I later found it too hot, and felt that I needed to change from a long sleeved top to my t-shirt, they threatened to give me a new nickname!
Our convo on the walk ranged over many topics. They had both spent some time in NZ so we discussed their experiences there. But when we got to rugby the convo got quite heated from one side: as someone who rarely bothers watching the 'national' game I found it a bit hard to take the passion seriously!
There were several 'little' climbs along the way - getting into practice for the big climb that was to come in just a few days time.
When I arrived in Navarrenx I found that the gite was in another historic building. It was a friendly place to stay, with small rooms of about six beds, and a communal kitchen/dining area.
This was another town with an advertised welcome time for pilgrims at the church. But just before 6pm a thunderstorm struck, and there was a huge downpour, so I decided to stay 'in'.
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