Achilles

Walking has been difficult today because yesterday I injured my heel and as a result I have a large hole in it and it is very sore.

I was plodding along behind Jeremy at a very slow pace and so we only managed to do 15 km or so today.

For the first part of the day we were walking up and down some quite steep little hills on the border of the forested region of the sandy plain where we have just walked from. The change from pine forest to deciduous woods is quite marked and the heat of the day is different in the sorts of woods as well because evergreen trees seem to amplify the heat whereas deciduous trees shade you instead.

Almost nothing remarkable has happened today and unfortunately we could not get to see the badgers that were expecting to last night

A new me

Something has happened to me that is most unexpected. For the first time in many years I have no pain in my innards and none in my back. I feel utterly amazing as if twenty years has been given back to me somehow.

The steady plod, plod, plod of walking for hundreds of miles has worn away at the years of fat that has weighed me down in so many ways and I feel physically renewed and invigorated. Just for fun I did thirty press ups, just for fun I ran, something that has dogged my dreams for years, just for fun I grabbed a tree brach to do pull ups and just for fun I did sit ups.

The walking meditation part of my journey is more difficult to pin down though. I have been practicing meditation techniques to clear my mind of the thoughts that have caused me so much pain. Walking in this heat needs a hat so I have a wide brimmed Australian style hat that obscures much of the view ahead for much of the day. I have to force myself to look up to see the road and so my point of view encompasses hat brim, road, shoes and diminished, ha greatly diminished belly.

I have no requirement to do anything except to walk. How far I walk is determined by Jeremy's cajoling and by the state of my feet. I eat when I want to eat. I drink when I want to drink and I answer to no one for times, schedules, requirements or demands. This is the only way I feel I can exist at the moment because all else is too much and I dissolve into almost catatonic depression again if I allow myself to brood.

Will the therapy of the road do as much for my mind as for my body? Who can say? I wish it would.

Wildlife

This evening we are camped in another vineyard near to the small town of Houga. The ground is mowed as flat as a bowling green and well kept and nearby there is a rift in the ground with a great badger set at the bottom. The ground around the set is freshly turned so it is active but on a road nearby I saw the sadly mangled corpse of another badger. One wonders if they were from the same family.

This morning when I awoke there was a pile of fresh deer droppings right next to my tent so the beast must have been no more than a metre from my tent in the night. The night before that Jeremy reported encountering several hedgehogs as he went out for a pee in the night and the signs of boars, and indeed their sounds of grunts and crashing about in the maize fields are evident all over.

In the forest we passed a few days ago the trees were filled with the noise of either very big crickets or possibly cicadas although I wasn't lucky enough to see any of those magnificent bugs. Even now I can hear grasshoppers and frogs.

We have seen many deer at varying distances. They usually look at us curiously for a few moments and bound away, white tails flashing an alarm.

This countryside is filled to bursting with life that takes so little effort to see when one walks but flying past in a car presents so few opportunities to see and enjoy these sights and sounds that it would seem a shame to do it now.

Resin

Jeremy has gone all Ray Mears on me harvesting chunks of pine resin to make smudge pots to ward off mosquito hordes. Given the way this stuff burns I wouldn't like to see a pine forest going up from close quarters.

The resin burns with an aroma of pine and a dark sooty smoke that the mozzies run from at top speed.

Today has been un eventful with lots of walking along long, hot, pine forested roads and very little contact with people until later in the evening. Last evening we camped near to a cemetery in Losse. A nearby building had what I calculated to be approximately three hundred and eighty kilowatts of solar panel collectors on the roof. The sunshine here is big business. There was a field of the most beautiful wild flowers all of purple, white and yellow that made a lovely sight first thing.

The forests are dotted with big reservoirs or tanks of water for the use of fire personell in case of emergency. One we saw was a huge green bag in a fenced area.

Idyllic ham

We walked on into Lot et Garrone through pine forests and along superheated straight roads when we came upon an idyllic scene. A wide sandy river with crystal clear waters flowed from left to right and looking down from the bridge we saw a wide clear grassy area with a few trees for shade. It was too tempting not to take advantage so we called it a day on the walking and went to sit by the river.

I was so tempted by the water that I drank it, it was cool and neutral. Jeremy said that I would likely suffer a bad belly but I was fine. We paddled about, Jeremy washed and we just lazed about for hours.

Jeremy went exploring and returned saying that a place up the road was selling ham and suggested that I go get some for tea. Off I went.

The sandy road wound through yet another Myst like landscape with sparse pine trees on either side. The air itself had a blue haze in it and smelled of pine resin in the heat. I know why the locals are so paranoid about fire as it seemed that even the air was an explosive mixture.

I walked for a good mile along this sandy road until I found an oasis of a house well kept and postcard neat in amongst the pines. I politely asked the proprietress about the ham (Jambon) whereupon she laughed and said it was the name of the house. Not an offer of porky wares. I left empty-handed.

We slept badly overnight as a local family had a loud party until the early hours so we packed late and bade farewell to the lovely river glen.

More forest

The forest that we are walking through is one of the largest wooded areas in France and will take us three days to cross. Today has been day two. Much of it is cultivated pine forest with trees in serried rows that stretch for miles. In other places the trees have been harvested leaving behind great swathes of bare churned up sand with a few pine roots scattered about. It seems that cutting the trees is less favoured than uprooting them bodily with great hydraulic grapples.

We stopped to ask for water at a house we passed and were welcomed in, given the desired water and cold fruit juices by a lovely couple. The gentleman's accent was impenetrable and terse. He called bread "peng"

I had got my shoes wet falling into the river the previous day and so I walked in a pair of poorly engineered sandals today. My feet ache horribly as a result, I hope that the shoes are all dry tomorrow.

After the storm

I walked for twenty kilometres or so carrying the bag and pushing the wheelbarrow. The intense stabbing pain al across my back and right side I had suffered for the last few days has abated to a dull ache just like the first kidney stone I passed. This one had obviously done some damage on the way but I feel so much better now.
If I had a new knee I would feel fifteen years younger.

We are walking up from the Gironde onto the little hills that border the valley where grapes are less common and other more familiar crops such as maize or sunflower are growing.

We camped in a little pine forest where the ground was terribly lumpy so I used the hammock strung between two sturdy pine saplings that stood in a platoon of their comrades. I got off to sleep without a problem but awoke as I was precipitated to the ground by the poor quality stitching giving out in one seam. Some nearby boars learned a lot of English swear words that night.

After a fitful night on lumpy ground I rose late and resolved to rid myself of the wheelbarrow once and for all. Carrying the bag was a must and attempting to push the barrow at the same time was punishing. Jeremy wasn't keen that I give up the barrow but I was adamant and after repacking the bags we left it for someone to find and walked on. Needless to say, progress was slow.

Eventually we came to the town of Bazas where we bought a few supplies and walked south for a kilometre or so until we sat to eat a quick sandwhich. As we ate a skinny fellow with a pack and walking sticks turned up. He had a scallop shell on a string around his neck. Our first pilgrim acquaintance. Leonard, a Dutchman who had walked from Amsterdam, shared a coffee and some food with us while we watched ominous storm clouds gather overhead.

We were hit with a mini deluge and had to run for cover in the lee of a nearby house and we discussed camping and the minimum of weight he carried which was a meagre sixteen kilos. I decided to take advice on what to keep and what to throw away from his greater experience which was more than 1400 kilometres so far. After throwing out a lot of stuff that seemed unnecessary my pack weighed twenty two kilos with a couple of litres of water on board. It was much easier to carry!

In return for his consulting skills, Jeremy fixed Leonard's tent with spare parts salvaged from the one destroyed by the storm a few nights ago. Leonard suggested that we all camp together that evening and share a meal so we walked off to find a spot. The skinny little Dutch guy was a full on walking machine! He raced off ahead of us and was gone before we could blink. We caught up with him as he waited to collect water from a house some time and a few kilometres later.

We stayed in the yard of an empty farmhouse and used the well to get water to wash with. I had an invigoratingly cold shower before supper that was leek and potato soup (knorr) with fried saussicon, Camembert and crunchy bread.

I slept very badly due to the incessant hooting of a very busy owl and later what sounded like the hounds of hell because it was the first day of the hunting season. Breakfast coffee made with sweet condensed milk was had by all and we filled up on cheese and sausage before the first stretch.

We were utterly outpaced by Leonard again even though he complained of bad feet and we were left to follow in his wake all the way to the next town where we found him sitting eating a baguette and sardines. The town had no baker of its own and a stall had been set up by the baker from a few miles awa so we bought croissant, apple turnover and bread and ate a second breakfast of sardines and chocolate. You may have noticed that we no longer give a hoot about calories except to ask where the next ones are coming from.

Sadly we parted ways with our friend Leonard who's route was taking him to Santiago via the westerly road as we continued straight south. What a lovely fellow and companion if only for a day.

Electric nuts!

There is a chinese proverb that says if you want to eat grow rice, If you want to eat next year raise cattle, And if you want to be rich in 20 years plant trees.
There are very many tree plantations here with beautiful tall white trunks all planted in rows.
We also saw a plantation of nut trees that all seem to be wired together in a very strange way. I wondered if they were using the nut tree has some sort of eco power source.

This evening we have planted ourselves in a little pine forest. I am going to attempt to sleep in my hammock again because i'm too lazy to put up my tent.

Disaster day

I obviously spoke too soon, shortly after posting the last message Jeremy arrived saying that the thunderstorm had broken his tent And it was torn and leaking. Being in a small town there was no possibility of finding camping equipment nearby snd we were forced to consider the possibility of going to the nearby town of Langon or one further afield such as Bordeaux.
Unfortunately, even Langon had no camping stores worth anything so we had to go to bordeaux by train. Jeremy and i hitch-hiked individually with him going first and me following on. Both of us had shouts of derision from several drivers and we noticed a preponderance of national front propaganda on the various billboards that we passed. It seems as if the south of france, like the south of america is a region for extremists.
Arriving in bordeaux we went to the decathlon stores that i went to last week but unfortunately they were out of stock for all of the items that we wanted. Locating another store in town we managed to buy a tent but it wasn't the super light job that jeremy needed and he had to settle for one that weighed three kilograms. We also decided that as jeremy's rucksack was not particularly good I would buy a new rucksack for myself And give him the very heavy army sack of that i have. My bag on its own weighs five kilos which is a significant amount to carry, especially if it's just dead weight.
All that being complete we took the train back to Langon. I had been very uncomfortable with a back ache all day, And going to the toilet on the train i was horrified to see that i was pissing blood. I know that i have a 2 millimetre kidney stone In my right kidney But i am afraid that dehydration due to walking and not drinking enough plus the added stress of considerable weight loss may have caused it to become larger or i may just have passed the stone yesterday.
Today, my urine seems discolored but not red so i rather hope that the condition may go away. I don't want to rush for the nearest hospital and possibly cancel the trip.
Also today, we didn't walk very far because rearranging the bags as maids jeremy's one very much heavier and so there were many stops and re adjustments.
We camped last night beside the canal du midi on the Garonne river crossing by a trestle bridge just before dark. The river seems to be partially tidal as the level went up and down during the night and it was about 200 feet wide green and very greasy just like the limpopo.

Rain rain go away

We walked a good 27 kilometres yesterday And found ourselves with the dilemma of choosing to remain in a vineyard or to continue across a river into unknown territory where we might not find a place to camp. We opted for the vineyard and cooked up pasta for tea.
I decided that rather than put my tent up I would sleep outside in my waterproof bag thinking all the time that it had been fine and there would be no rain. well, i was wrong about that.
There was a thunderstorm during the night and a torrential downpour. Amazingly though i remind relatively dry and the worst of the damp came from the condensation of my breath on the inside of the bag.
Jeremy, who had broken his tent the night before, managed to fix it using the repair kit for my own tent I haven't seen him yet this morning but i assume that he is ok.
And so, i'm lying here in a wet vineyard watching the sun come up over the vines Doing my morning meditation and thinking just this moment. Just this moment. Just this moment.

A rude awakening

Last night we camped beside vines and played cards until we could see no more. I slept well enough apart from some unfortunately vivid dreams that woke me at four in the morning but drifted off again while wondering what sort of creature might be snuffling about outside. I suspect a hedgepig.

At six my alarm sounded and i heard a tractor but thought nothing of it until it seemed that it was working nearby. I called Jem who grunted a bit and said it didn't matter but I insisted and we both eventually went to look.
A tractor was spraying nearby vines but Jeremy said they were not on our field and it would take hours to traverse all the intervening vines so we went back to brew up.

A few minutes later to my horror I saw a tractor with cyclone sprayer bearing down upon us as we sipped coffee. The guy had started our field in the other direction making our end first.

We madly packed and moved stuff to the side of the nearby woods and the tractor had to wait while i removed the coffee stove. Grumpy farmer or what?

Still, after the bad start we made seven hours of walking and twenty seven kilometres of distance.

Tonight we are setting up camp....
Next to more vines. Gluttons for punishment.

Ps. Bit of a disaster beccause jem has busted his tent.

Across the Dordogne

Striding south out of castillon we hit a trestle bridge across the Dordogne. The wide valley bordering the river was oddly  devoid of the vines so common in this wine growing region. Jeremy pointed out the soil that was revealed in the wake of a tractor working in the fields nearby. It was rich, brown and damp. Not at all like the chalky, dry soil preferred by grapes.
Instead, varieties of cash-crops such as kiwi fruits were growing there.

Passing a hedge we saw strange fruit on the ground. All green and bumpy these odd pods had white milky juice. Jeremy was so suspicious of them he didn't want me to taste even a tiny drop.

Ascending a steep and winding hill we found a lookout point commanding a view of the valley below. Quite spectacular don't you think?

As we continued we found that the locals had novel ideas on neighborhood security employing dangerous domesticated rabbits as protection. We ran so hard from one marauding band of conies that the wheelbarrow had a blowout and Jeremy had to grovel underneath to remove the wheel before I could effect repairs.

Repose

Arriving at Jeremy's old stomping grounds in Castillon La Bataille we were greeted like long lost family by André, proprietor of a motorcycle and garden machinery workshop. André, who is somewhat Dutch, gave us the warmest welcome and use of his shower (a hosepipe in the garden) and washing machine.
We were invited to eat barbecued foodtuffs and music and beer flowed until the early hours. I had fizzy water I hasten to add...
The next day was earmarked for us too because we were also invited to eat with one of André`s neighbors who's African name I am unable to spell (Yahoun?) And who cooked us the most amazing slap-up meal.

I slept so well on a bed built of palettes and old sofa cushions. So much better thsn the cold ground.

André's son, Wim who is 13 years old showed me some of the computer animation work he had done. The surprise for me was Wim's use of camera angles and directorial tricks that made his work really stand out.  I think we'll see more of young Wim in the future. I have commissioned a manga style artwork of Jem and I from him. I hope he does it for me.

I weighed myself on André's big industrial scaled and have lost EIGHT KILOS in one week. I knew walking was hard work but that's crazy. Thirty kilos down in under four months and all while on a diet high in calories.

Walking food needs to be compact and calorific so we eat dried sausage, cheese, sardines and as many fruits, nuts and tomatoes as we can find. We drink a lot of orangina too.  Without exaggeration i probably eat a kilo of hedgerow fruits, apples, plums and blackberries a day.

Leaving Castillon today was a sad thing because we leave behind new friends and good memories.

Oi You!

We heard the cry after walking down a steep hill in the hot sun. Looking behind we saw a man coming out of his front gate and Jeremy said "uh-oh" and we were looking for an escape route.

The man looked at us and said "Are you walkers?" to which we shrugged and replied yes.

He then asked us where we'd been, what we'd seen, why we were doing it all and would we like some home-grown tomatoes. Of course we said yes.

The gentleman gave us a big bag with tomatoes, cucumbers and courgettes from his garden, shook our hands and wished us a safe onward journey.

As we walked on we ate warm tomatoes with that wonderful fresh-picked smell and the juice and pips ran down our chins. Lovely!

iPhone's demise and eventual ressurection

So many villages have preserved examples of the communal "Lavoir" in this part of France. I liked this one so much I thought I would actually use it to wash my clothes and I thought I would document it for the blog.

This last picture is of the little soap dish that is built in to the wall.

Anyway, I set up my iPhone with the intention of having it take a little sequence of images of me washing tee shirts and as I turned around there was a little gust of wind and I heard a "Ploop" sound as the phone fell into the water!! AARRGGHH I cursed and yelled. Jeremy came running thinking I had done something awful, which I had, and I was forced to strip off and climb into the water.
Searching about in the mud with my toes I found the phone which seemed to be working except after a few seconds the flashlight came on and the screen began to do odd things. Finally the apple of death arrived and the phone packed up.

After wondering what the heck to do with it and how to get the pictures out of it Jeremy suggested shoving it into the bag of long-grain rice that we had with us and left it there.

The next day I was able to plug it in and remove all the pictures (Phew!) and today, several days later I have charged it and tested both cameras which were full of water but now which work again.

Yay for rice! And yes, the water was freezing!!

New boots no panties

After five years of almost everyday use followed by a three hundred and twenty nine kilometre walk, my Decathlon trainers gave up the ghost and wore through the sole to leave a hole under the ball of my foot. Having thrown away the army boots as a bad loss a week ago, I needed new boots or walk barefoot the rest of the way to Spain.

There being no suitable emporium of shoes nearby I decided, along with Jeremy's strong encouragement, to hitch hike to Bordeaux where the nearest Decathlon store was situated to procure the desired articles.

The day was an ordeal from start to finish as in order to discover where the shop was I was forced to walk a couple of kilometres into town to find a network signal. Finding that the nearest shop was fifty or so kilometres away was easy, getting there on the good graces of the French driving public wasn't. After walking out of town again and past the largest solar power collector I have ever seen in the flesh i continued for several miles toward Bussac-Foret breakfasting on luscious ripe blackberries as I went. After an hour and a half of the usual shouts, gestures and beeps from passing motorists who refused to pick me up A chap stopped and took me out of his way to a junction of the N 10 where he told me to follow a track down to a motorway service station. i did this and got to the garage a while later only to find it surrounded by a high wire fence so I had to find a way through. Eventually I followed the trails of others in a similar predicament and found a way in by leaping over the wire and through a prickle bush.

Another half hour wait and a smashing chap picked me up and took me to Bordeaux where he worked just next to the Decathlon store. Result!



I asked a nice athletic looking young lady about shoes and told her what I was doing whereupon she said "oh la la" and explained that most of the shoes were shite and not to buy them for a 1400 kilometre walk over variable terrain. "You need the best shoes possible" said she and showed me to a specialist section for serious explorer and mountaineer types where they had boots and shoes for every sort of work and every sort of hunky outdoors person. I bought nice red and black shoes by Millet with chunky grip soles and a toughness guarantee to die for.




Leaving the store i dropped my old faithful trainers unceremoniously into a bin and strode onwards.



Getting out of Bordeaux was absolutely awful! I needed to get to the N 10 to hitch back to Montendre but the road served many suburban neighbourhoods too so hitching was useless in town. I figured a few miles out would be better so I got a taxi to take me to the N 10. Only trouble was that the bastard took me to the A10 motorway where hitching isn't allowed so i left the taxi not much better off than before.

Eventually, after walking a fair distance a Turkish man picked me up and ran me to the service station along the motorway where it seemed logically feasible to hitch onwards. I stood in blazing sun for hours hitching when no one was willing to pick up a passenger. I watched hundreds of lorries and cars come and go with no luck.

Finally I willed a chap all alone in his Citroen people-mover to stop and lo, so he did!

I was so relieved i could have hugged him. Good job I didn't I suppose.

The man wasn't talkative and when he did say something it was in a high squeaky voice so, try as I might, the journey was not a chatty one. He very kindly went out of his way too and took me all the way to Montendre where I thanked him profusely.

By the time I returned to the camp poor Jeremy had begun to worry about me.

That evening I cooked a sort of Carbonara for tea but used spaghetti instead of tagliatelle. It was very good even if I do say so myself.

Acacia avenue

7th of August 2014:
Today I felt fit enough to walk with my pack on again. In the first few days of the adventure I had a problem with my back, brought on no doubt by years of basically doing nothing sitting at a desk getting fat and lazy. I weighed the pack and all my gear at 27 kilos so, on Jeremy's advice I took stuff out and removed external items until I had a weight of fifteen kilos in all. It was ok on my back and we walked eighteen kilometres although I do admit to being as tired as when we walked thirty six in the same day.
The terrain has shifted from flat alluvial plains to hills in the space of twenty kilometres or so and so the going was made doubly tough by the climbs and descents which seem to be as difficult with the wheelbarrow as pushing up is.
Still, I made most of the day with the pack on, only giving up and loading it back on the barrow an hour before we stopped.
Our lodging tonight is in hammocks strung between rows of trees in a little acacia grove that we found. Acacias are fast growing but produce wicked thorns as protection against giraffes that like to browse the tops. I'm not expecting to see one tonight. (The giraffe, not the acacia)
My camp is set up but unfortunately the hammock has an uncomfortable lop-sidedness to it that I fear will cause problems with entry and egress.














Post-script: the hammock broke in the night and precipitated me unceremoniously to the ground. As I was already in my outdoor waterproof bag As well as a sleeping bag I just stayed there. This morning we had a cracker of a thunder storm but the tarp kept me dry.

First signs

Pons is where we saw our first sign of the pilgrims trail to Santiago de Compostelo or Compostelo de Saint Jaques as the French call it.
Unfortunately we have not yet obtained a Credential, the pilgrim's passport that is stamped as you go along, and so we were not qualified to lodge at the hostel provided in Pons. The rate, according to the tourist office, is eight euros per person per night for a gite style house that sleeps up to eight pilgrims and has kitchen and bathing provided. I think it might be a good idea to get a credential just for the luxury of the occasional stay.

Once again today we have been stopped and welcomed by strangers. A chap accosted us offering a load of plums, some nice conversation and a fill-up of water along with loads of encouragement. After we had left his place and wandered off south the kind soul chased us up in his car giving us two large scallop shells, the symbol of St John or Jaques or Iago. Jeremy has pierced his and tied it with a bootlace.

A lady asked why we were doing the pilgrimage and we said for "spiritual reasons" which seemed to satisfy her. I also forgot to mention yesterday that we had been stopped by two young and brusque gendarmes who asked us suspiciously if we were lost and what we were doing. As soon as I mentioned the St Jaques they said oh, ok... And sped off. Jeremy says he's using that in future, especially if he's travelling with a bagful of knives or weed.

In Pons there is a lovely and typically French roundabout decoration depicting five bemusedly lost pilgrims. I told jeremy to go stand amongst the life sized statues and point in a random direction. He refused hence no picture of him doing rhat.

We had a lovely argument about washing clothes in a laundromat. So much so that jeremy stormed off in a huff. I bellowed at him to grow up and come back. All dreadfully amusing and very Powell.

We are another twenty klicks further on but with walking round in Pons the feet have covered twenty five we reckon.

He beat me roundly at Gin Rummy on three hands. Buggered if i'll play poker with him!

Finally for today

Two entries today... After continuing this afternoon we walked about fifteen kilometres more bringing  the grand total to thirty six. Now that's not a bad day.
We walked through vineyards and past houses with obvious Roman colonial influences, low pitched red-tiled roofs, columned porches, deep stone walls and windows. Didn't see many hypocausts though.
I have lost count of the number of crazy dogs who have surprised us by barking loudly right in our ears. Blasted hounds.
Our route planning has leaned towards quiet, if slightly longer roads with fewer (read none) 44 ton articulated trucks. This has been a pleasant way to see the French countryside.
This evening's camp is at the side of a cut wheat field and I have stuffed under the groundsheet of my tent with straw to make a sort of built-in palliasse. The jury is still out on the comfort verdict.
Jeremy and I bought a couple of packs of cards that seem to have been in the shop window since the early 1900's we played a hand of Gin before retiring.
I'll lull him into a false sense of security before suggesting poker.

A day in Macdonalds

Getting up this morning was a non event. Jeremy, who had the alarm clock, turned it off and went back to sleep so no movement was seen until after eight.
We walked the eight kilometers down into St Jean de Angely in a short time and fell upon a Macdonald's fairly quickly. They have power points and wireless networks available if you eat their junk so we had a meal and plugged in.
My laptop takes ages to charge. I bought a new little Acer touchscreen laptop just for the trip but honestly it's not a patch on my MacBook Air. Ahh we'll, one lives and learns.
I sat and worked until about 5:30 before going to the supermarket nearby. Jeremy filled time by consuming beer and so has been reluctant to walk the agreed fifteen klicks extra so now we're in a woods on the outskirts of town. There is an ankle deep stream running in the woods and Jem threw himself into it immediately. I might have a go shortly.

I caught sight of myself in the mirror in the McDo loos. My face and neck have greatly diminished in fattyness. Walking is definitely doing me good physically.

Jeremy is building a fire.. Again.



Looks like a Sasquatch to me.

Location:Avenue Charles de Gaulle,Saint-Jean-d'Angély,France

Siesta

As we go south the midday heat becomes more marked. We have taken to dozing for a few hours until the day becomes cooler and walkable again.

Stag

A visitor to my tent this morning.

Snaps

Some shots from last evening and this morning including breakfast plums, the campfire with obligatory cassoulet can, a pit-stop for a thorn in the foot, some lovely wild snapdragons and me looking a bit Aussie.

Bath time

Walking beside a clear river that ran through the town of Usseau deux Sevres we came across a stone bridge. The water was knee deep an freezing cold but bein hot and filthy from several days walking we decided to wash ourselves and our clothes. Jeremy went first and shrieked at the temperature. I was, of course, more stoic in my tolerance of the chilly waters.
Standing naked in and indeed, dousing oneself just a few feet from a road upon which cars passed oblivious to one was a bizarre experience. Wow but the wash was good though!!

Tyred

We had a blowout of the wheelbarrow tyre. The two-hundred and some kilometers has taken its toll on the already worn rubber and it finally gave up the ghost.
There being no purveyor of wheelbarrow spares nearby I was forced to hitch-hike into Niort to procure another. To my consternation no tyre of the same dimensions was available so I had to buy a. 400-8 instead of a 350-8 and risk it hitting the frame.
A lovely lady gave me a lift into a garden center in Niort and by chance saw me hitching on the way back and picked me up a second time, delivering me to the spot where poor Jeremy was waiting.
The tyre did fit and has made the barrow a smidgen higher so easier to push.

People

We are in the odd situation of being judged by people as we walk. Stopping to ask directions some treat us like hobos and ignore us or insult us. Others guess our mission to walk to Santiago De Compostelo and complement us and welcome us.
We stopped for drinks at a cafe in the town of Toutlemonde and found ourselves receiving beeps and waves from drivers on the road for several days. In Colonges a lady guessed what we were doing and was so delighted that she hugged and kissed us saying we had restored her faith in humanity and she would pray for us. We didn't have the heart to say that our journey wasn't a religious pilgrimage but a sort of secular one.
It's lovely not to be treated like a bum.

Myst?

Anyone familiar with the computer game Myst will appreciate the shady walkways of La Garrette. Looking exactly like sets from the Island where raised wooden walkways carry the adventurer above swampy terrain, these wonderful paths wind between trees and swampy pools full of algae, frogs and insects. Only the wonderful soundtrack was missing.

Antisocial

The initial physical shock of walking pretty much all day is over and we've been racking up an average of twenty kilometers a day. Walking is indeed a contemplative activity and I've had a lot of time to reflect on the past and think about the future. Having been a provider of income and housing for a large family with the attendant needs for waking in the morning at a certain time, being at work or in another seemingly interminable meeting on time I find myself in the difficult position of having to get out of those long established habits. The brim of my hat that shields my eyes from the sun also obscures some of my forward view and so I see the road surface far more than the road ahead or the horizon. This is a little bit analogous to the Buddhist philosophy of being in this moment, not concerned with what has past, although it is very difficult to let go of, and not to look into an uncertain future with unattainable desires.
Strangely, I find it all oddly relaxing.
The night was wet but the morning was fine and now we're sheltering from the midday heat. More miles this afternoon.

Location:D1,Coulonge sur L'Autize,France

Fat

Modern life isn't good for people. We'll, not good for me anyways. Years of complacency, overrating and booze turned me from a lean fighting machine into a blob. This walk is partly to overcome that sad circumstance as I need something to drastically change me from how I have been into a fitter and leaner me. A few months ago I was one hundred and thirty seven kilos! That's more than twenty one stones or three hundred pounds. That is just plain horrible and the strain on knees, back and metabolism is horrible too.
A couple of months of intense gym work coupled with giving up drinking has seen twenty or so kilos fall away but this isn't enough and I need to lose about another forty kilos to be a good weight again.
I guess this walk is an escape from a life that made me compromise everything for a wife and family and while I recognize that choices get made along the way they get made for reasons that are not wholly selfish.
Today I need not compromise or consider anyone but myself. I hate being fat. I want to run without risking a busted knee. No pain no gain they say. I should be doing myself a load of good somewhere.

Tick

It rained a bit during the night and I had to get up for a pee. That was a pain and I stood on a thorn which embedded itself in my left heel. I also picked up a tick that bit my arm on my right bicep so I 'll need to watch that for the telltale red ring of Lymes Disease.
A few kilometers brought us to a town where Jeremy had a little freak-out due to his general dislike of urban areas but I was able to find a spanner and fix the wheel.
Google maps walking routes leave something to be desired as the route took us into an area tat was proclaimed to be guarded by armed guards, security cameras and had a risk of death associated with it. The detour was long. The map says only 12 klicks but I know we walked more with the detour.
We put up for the night on a disused farm track. I really need to wash myself and my clothes as my tee shirt is encrusted with salt from dried sweat.

Woods

Walking with the wheelbarrow is easier on the back and I can carry, or at least propel, more stuff so I have taken a lot of Jeremy's heavy gear.
The axle on the barrow squeaked badly and it seems that it has not been tightened properly, we blagged oil from some chaps for the squeaky noise but I will need to get tools as the pliers on my multi tool aren't good enough to do the job.
Camp three was in some woods. I am wary of these as although they have great places to tie up tarps or to hang things the leaf litter is always dirty and there is too much biota in the surroundings.

Second day

With food, water and boots my pack weighed in at thirty two kilos. I carried it for about ten kilometers until the heat of the day drove us into shade. I fell asleep and didn't wake for about four hours so Jeremy suggested an early night and an early start. I had still not put the tarpaulin up before it got dark so I lay in the open in my waterproof sleeping bag cover and threw the tarp across the top like a blanket. As I crawled in a big anvil shaped cloud lit up pink and orange with internal lightning. A bad omen for sure.
I awoke with the rain beating down but I was dry thanks to the equipment and good luck that the water had not run under where I had lain the night before. Struggling out semi naked into a downpour was an experience I had not had since many years past.
Sitting by the stove making tea I remarked that my back hurt badly and feeling behind me I was horrified to find a proper hunchback hump. The weight of the sack had caused a severe scoliosis with my spine curved very noticeably to my right and sticking out a couple of inches.obviously a thirty two kilo pack was a bad move for a man who has sat at a computer desk for decades and who has become unused to heavy lifting.
I don't like to be beaten and so, as we had only walked about twenty two kilometers I hitched back into town to buy a wheelbarrow in which to push my gear.
I was foiled again because it was Sunday and all shops close on Sunday in small-town France. Still not to be beaten I called my daughter who kindly brought mine from home.
So, the journey continued.

Worse than useless

The travois is not a reliable form of travel and on roads it wears away the wood at an unacceptable rate. Even though it's next to useless it did take the weight off of my back so some form of carrying device is quasi necessary. I'm thinking wheelbarrow?

Wet

Tip for the traveller: get your tent or bivouac set up before nightfall,

Yesterday morning Jeremy and I set out late and walked about eleven kilometers. It started to get hot in the afternoon so he suggested stopping for a few hours to rest and eat. I was tired as I'm pretty much out of shape despite the last few months of gym every morning and having already lost three stones. I lay down to rest a while and slept four hours solid. Admittedly, this gave the phone and other equipment time to charge on the solar panel I brought along for the purpose. We were on a little used farm track so Jeremy suggested stringing tarps and hammocks across the path for the night. I wanted to re-pack my bag so I waited. Sitting down I felt odd and noticed a lump in my back. It was then that I realized that my spine was curved crazily due to the weight of the pack. I think I'm in trouble there. Re weighing pack including food and water came out at a whopping 32 kilos! It may not be much for an elite commando but I'm an old fat computer programmer that spent the last few decades slouched at a desk. I cannot carry my pack at that weight, not if I hope to get fitter and not crap out from injuries.
So, back to the main story... I messed with the pack and trying to build a travois to pull it on and didn't set up my tent or my tarp. It was only at nightfall that I found the ground too stony to take a tent peg so in desperation I just put my big waterproof sleeping bag cover on the ground, threw the tarp on top like a blanket and slept there waking to the sound of torrential rain in the early dawn.
The equipment kept me dry but it was nasty crawling out into the downpour. The tarp went up strung on bushes and I am sat in poncho and Aussie hat while the rain continues. Buddhist teachings say that life is a series of moments. We cannot change the moments we had and should not grasp for moments in the future. This is fine by me.

Aoutats

I had completely forgotten about the existence of aoutats, a tiny larval stage arachnid that lives in tall grass and that bites and burrows into the skin of the legs and lower body. Remembering them this morning after an uncomfortable nights sleep is not much help. It rained on and off during the night but I stayed dry.
Today I'm going to try to combat fatigue before it starts by eating a highly calorific breakfast of tinned canneloni before starting out. The old feet are unhappy though. In an effort to reduce weight I have decided to get rid of my favorite tee shirt that was a gift from my Microsoft MVP days. The thing is an XXXL so I don't need it any more. Say goodbye to an old friend with me.

Location:D3,Pouancé,France

Day one.

Day one,
It took us three hours to walk to the bridge on the old road near Pouance. We set up tarpaulins in an area of ground just off that road that I must have driven along past the spot a thousand times I never imagined I would be camping here on my way to an adventure.
I am definitely not used to walking with a heavy pack and the extra 55 pounds takes it's toll on legs and back. I know that I will sleep well tonight even if it does look as if thunderclouds are gathering. Jeremy looks very comfortable in his hammock and is reading a book just like the inveterate long-distance hitchhiker that he is. We covered ten kilometers today which is not bad for the first effort but hoping to cover 20 tomorrow. Still, We had set out late from home as the day had been so hot that it was useless to try to travel in such heat. Anyway, there's no real schedule so never mind.
We ate tinned cassoulet for supper. A diet to which we will no doubt become very accustomed as it is calorific, cheap and easy to carry in its tin. Perhaps more dried food would be lighter but not nearly so convenient.
We found wild plums too!

Location:D775,Pouancé,France

Leaving day is just over the sunrise.

Tomorrow my son Jeremy and I will begin a walk of more than 1400 kilometers from Brittany in France to Santiago de Compostela in Spain along the pilgrim routes of old. We are doing this because Jeremy fancied a stroll and I am making a pilgrimage to myself. I am few weeks away from being fifty four years old, overweight, depressed and feeling my mortality so I need to do something that will change my life utterly. I have been a serious and professional man for more than thirty years, working as a programmer with a great career and great earning potential. I did it all to support a wife and ever growing family and now those things are gone from my life and feel as if I am empty and useless.

I expect bodily pain and discomfort but I hope to find enlightenment and happiness enough to counteract that in some way as we travel the roads of France and Spain. On the way, we will learn Spanish so as not to be completely reliant on the English speaking natives and with luck, this blog will be a foretaste of a book that we will write as we make our way along the Camino de Santiago.

Join us for the adventure.