September 7
From Gare de Lyon in Paris,
we caught the train to Claremont-Ferrand
with its famous cathedral.
There we transferred trains to head
to Aumont-Aubrac.
About 45 minutes from the last stop,
the train mysteriously stopped.
All passengers were herded out
onto waiting buses heading to Aumont-Aubrac.
We arrived at 4:10 only to find out that we
had to reserve a taxi
for the last leg to Nasbinals.
We were feeling overwhelmed
since there was no bus service either.
Jim approached a woman driving away in her car.
In French, he asked for advice.
She said, “ I live in Nasbinals. I’ll take you there.”
Odile was her name.
She dropped us off right at the doorway of our hotel.
and refused the money Jim offered her.
She was our first
French guardian angel
prompting our stunned gratitude.
The fields flew by toward our portal.
We activated her attitude
and swapped our gloom for sparkle.
The town was very lively since it was
the annual festival.
Someone was singing in the street.
People were checking out the vendors.
Odile mentioned that later there would be a contest for
the most beautiful cow.
The breed of Aubrac cattle is renowned
for its lustrous coat and its meat.
We toured the local church and found
our statue of Saint Jacques
guiding us on our camino.
At the Hôtel la Route d’Argent,
we kept our seven o’clock seating appointment.
The dining room was already full!
We had an ample, traditional dinner
with chopped ham, lettuce, eggs, tomatoes and
country artisan bread,
and the famous aligot–
mashed potatoes mixed with Tomme cheese.
Finally, the cheese cart was trundled out
and then arrived
bread pudding!
Carbohydrates fueled us hikers.
Charlotte’s eyes were slowly rolling.
Tomorrow we’d be no striders;
to St. Chély we’d be plodding.
Sunday, September 8
No matter how carefully I followed the map provided by Macs Adventure, we got lost going uphill.
Just follow the walkers with their backpacks!
The Aubrac cows and bulls were very placid.
We glimpsed the burons, or stone shelters for overnights in the high pastures. Philippe Bastide, owner of Hôtel Route d’Argent in Nasbinals, converted one of these burons to an auberge for dining.
In October, a parade led by the senior cow descends the pastures for the winter. It’s a festival during which tourists and other Aubrac lovers can walk beside the cattle, handsomely festooned with flowers.
After 16 kilometers of walking, we arrived at Saint Chély d’Aubrac, a cute village dotted with cafes and restaurants. The Hôtel des Voyageurs was very clean, sunny, and commodious.
Our hostess carefully recorded our vegetarian preferences for the evening meal.
For us, no Aubrac meat!
We’ve come to see bulls meant no harm.
We’ve shadowed them with steady beat.
We’ve seen the cow display her charm
We’ve talked to them with happy feet.
Monday, September 9
After crossing a medieval bridge, we climbed to a ridge overlooking a cemetery. On the opposite hill, the rising sun illuminated the town of St. Chély d’Aubrac
We walked up and down more rolling hills and pastures for grazing Aubrac cattle.
As we emerged from the woodlands, we met a couple from Wisconsin. They had started from Geneva on their way to Santiago de Compostela.
Arriving in St. Come d’Olt, we stopped for sandwiches, wine and beer .
and soon arrived at Les Jardins d’Eliane.
Dinner was family style— salad, homemade quiche, rice and ratatouille,with bread baked by the owner. Slices of baked apple tart with homemade ice cream and chocolate mousse layered squares.
Remember, we have to hike this off!
We examined the twisted spire in the village church.
The rooster on top of the church saw the bride arrive in all her splendor. As she made a ceremonial tour around the church, the rooster held on tight and rotated the spire. It stayed that way,
twisted.
Have you once been bent out of shape?
On Camino Portugues I listed,
tilted right. Pilgrims tried not to gape.
“Heroismo,” one said. Tested.
September 10
The next morning we decided to take the bus to Estaing. It turns out that Charlotte had lost her phone, But the owner, Jean, strode across the street with her phone in hand. Our second French guardian angel!
The Compostele bus took us, and some other pilgrims, to Estaing, the most charming village so far.
I chatted with a French couple who were biking in the region. When I mentioned that we were heading to Colmar after the Chemin de Saint Jacques, they replied that they lived there and would have gladly invited us to visit them but they would still be on their tour. Another instance of sincere French hospitality!
We walked the streets and viewed the church, which houses the relics of Saint Fleuret. On July 1, a local procession glorifies his name.
A statue of the patron of Estaing, Blessed Bishop François, rises in the middle of
the bridge over the river Lot.
Saint Fleuret gave sight to the blind
and healed a lame man on this spot.
Those in Estaing were of one mind
following Christ, no matter what.
Dinner at the Hôtel Saint Fleuret was salad, faro, peas and carrots and aligot. Two glasses of red wine.
September 11
Always a heavy day for me. I still remember my former Bergen Catholic students Rob Zampieri, Chris Vialonga, Marc Muralo, and Andy O’Grady, who lost their lives at the World Trade Center that day, along with 4 other BC grads. Live Jesus in our hearts… Forever!
The bus ride from Estaing to Golinhac saved us a long, steep climb.
In this picturesque village, we hiked with some pilgrims we had previously met– Chantal and her friends, who mistakenly led us astray. En route, mauvaise troupe!
We descended, however, and found the red and white horizontal stripes, our balise or waymark.
We ate lunch at a picnic table in the middle of deep woods. It could have been in the Catskills!
As we arrived at the village of Espeyac, it seemed that everyone was asleep or at work. It was really buttoned up. We heard a single child playing and piping up with his little voice.
A beer and a wine at the bar on the Hôtel de la Vallee loosened us up.
No need of Advil!
My cortisone shot really worked.
Thanks, Doc, my hips really swivel!
What knee pain? Wednesday, I just smirked.
No more hammer on the anvil!
September 12
Our last day hiking le Chemin de Saint Jacques de Compostele
when we stopped in a church to see St Marcel, I read the pilgrims’ ledger.
héroïsme!
We walked on a ridge overlooking beautiful pastures and saw the valley leading down to Conques.
On the path we met a very vocal donkey. He approached the fence and he-hawed, snorted and reared up, and stamped his feet for a good 3 minutes to establish his existence. Since we had just visited a church with a statue of Pope Saint Marcel, I named our donkey companion Marcel. I though it appropriate to look for an apple to feed him, so Charlotte found one and extended her hand to him. He seemed very appreciative!
We kept descending into the valley leading to of Conques.
We found the church with the twisted spire– le clocher tordu.
Conques was very lively with pilgrims and mostly French tourists, with the occasional bus of Chinese tourists. It is a major stop on the way to Santiago de Compostela
Charlotte posed in front of the famous tympanum over the church’s front door. The stone relief was the scene of the Last Judgment. I positioned her with the saved at the right hand of Christ. If you look carefully, you can see Sainte Foy kneeling and touching the hand of Christ. She is a popular saint, virgin and martyr, patroness of prisoners. The abbatial church of Conques holds a reliquary, which is paraded through the streets on her feast day, October 9.
I asked Chantal if pilgrims sing on the route since I had had heard no music on the camino. She promptly sang for me the typical pilgrim’s song. We all entered the church bookstore, where I selected a CD, Chants pour Pélerins. Right next to me at the cash register was Jean-Claude Benazet , the composer and singer on the CD. He promptly autographed my copy. He was in town for a concert that evening.
We bought a bundle of souvenirs and enjoyed a cozy meal in our hotel’s restaurant, included in our package.
We went to bed early, for we had to rise early to catch a taxi to Gare de Cransac and a train to Colmar.
Most festive town-Nasbinals
most hospitable- St. Chély d’Aubrac
most passionate- Saint Come d’Olt
most charming- Estaing
quietest- Espeyrac
most historic-Conques
most surprising moment- Marcel the donkey
Each town was beautiful in its own proud way!
Our pilgrimage has ended!
Nasbinals, St. Chély d’Aubrac,
Passing Saint Come d’Olt ,we wended
our way to Estaing, Espeyrac.
Saint Jacques, our spirits are mended!