September the 9^th 2021. That is the date I have set to leave Marseille, take the train to Arles and begin my grand walk from there.

It would be quite feasible to leave today but as I am so apprehensive about embarking on my planned walking adventure I’m procrastinating-I still have today and tomorrow to reconsider.

My preparations to leave are complete. I have made a choice of what I will be taking along and cannot think of anything more that I might need or anything that I have packed that will not be needed for my journey.

Yet I am wondering, why leave the little house near the beach where I am staying in Marseille? It so nice here and Liz has told me a number of times I can stay as long as I want. Actually, I do not need to go.  Do I really have the stamina to walk for hundreds of kilometres carrying a 12kg backpack? Will I find shelter and what I am going to eat en-route? What if rains the whole time? I am sure I will encounter hardships and difficulties so why put myself through this?

Yet not going or pulling out now would go contrary to my deepest desire. A desire to be, to experience and grow. A desire to go on a long walk into the unknown. If I am not able to put aside perceived boundaries of what I think I can or cannot do I’ll never find out what lies beyond the veil of my fear.

Day 1 September the 9th.

On the first day, I arrived in Arles around midday went to get my first stamp at Saint-Trophime parish office then had a picnic on a bench in the town centre. Instead following advice in the guidebook and hiking to Saint Gilles, I used Google maps to find my own path to Prieuré Notre Dame des Champs, a mere 8.5kms away. There I had a welcome shower and a simple yet satisfying meal with fellow travelers, Fabian and Eric. When introducing himself Eric said he was an angel, halfway through the meal he was a cardinal, I told him that by the end of the meal he would be Pope haha. I found it interesting and made a mental note that Eric mentioned he hitch hikes to get around, even during the pandemic. Fabian does seasonal work here at the Priory and has a kind of working holiday. Later that evening I met a group of volunteers who were assisting blind and disabled people walking the Camino.

Using the GPS on my tablet to get here from Arles proved really helpful, I found walking tracks along the Rhone, through apple orchards and fields with horses. I soon discovered that I had omitted to bring one essential item-mosquito repellent.

The rain stopped after breakfast and with the sky overcast I left to continue my walk on day 2. During the night the rain had washed everything clean and I got directions on how to join the GR 653 to Saint Gilles. Having slept well and feeling positively energised I set out. I was unprepared for what came next- mosquitos, loads of them and soon, besides trying to keep a steady gait I was itching, slapping and scratching. Nothing to keep them away worked, they kept me constant company in spite of my efforts to keep them at bay. As the priory where I had stayed the night before was not on the official route (GR653) I had only verbal instructions on how to rejoin the main route. At a fork in the road I asked directions but wasn’t convinced I had been given accurate information. It was as if the woman I asked would preferred to give me wrong directions than concede to not knowing. I continued doubtfully on. After a couple of kilometers I had still not found any signs and was sure I was on the wrong path. Fortunately it was not too hot and though overcast the rain had stopped.

Google maps which had worked so well yesterday now failed me. I made a detour of about 2 kilometers before getting back onto the GR 653. Part of the route was along roads with trucks and cars whizzing past, other parts through fields and secondary roads. Not even halfway to Saint Gilles my backpack was digging into my shoulders and my hips were complaining.  I had already decided not to take a tent and mattress and was trying to figure out what else I could shed to lighten the load.

The route into Saint Gilles was very pretty alongside a canal and after having a picnic I found a shady spot to lie down and rest my weary bones. At the very first pharmacy I bought mosquito repellent spray and upon reaching Saint Gilles I stopped for a very welcome cold beer. At “Maison des Pelerins” in Saint Gilles I was warmly welcomed by Michelle, a volunteer hostess. She sat me down and explained all the house rules and where I could buy something to eat, do washing and so on. I was soo looking forward to having a shower and collapsing on a bed after the 21kms stretch but for the next half an hour I just could not get a single word in. She was about my age (63) and had endless repertoire of fascinating “Camino” stories. Eventually I got my shower and felt much revived. The dormitory slept 7 and that night there were 4 of us. Michelle advised me to ditch my sleeping bag. It was by far the heaviest item in my backpack. “If there are no sheets or blankets available-just sleep fully clothed,” she advised. Jean-Michel another seasoned Camino walker helped me to adjust my backpack so that my hips supported more of the weight. I slept well in the bunk bed and next morning posted my sleeping bag to my friend Andrew in Abondance. By the time that was done and I had finished breakfast it was 10:00am. I set off feeling much lighter. The next leg of my walk was 18kms to a place I had booked near Vauvert. En route I met Renald. I saw him walking towards me from a direction that was not on the route. He said he had taken a wrong turn and had come full circle. He had left Saint Gilles 3 hours before me. We had a short chat then I went to nearby house to replenish my water bottle and he took off ahead of me. The walking went better that day than the day before and I managed to maintain a slow but steady tempo. A few hours later at a bridge there was Renald again, pondering over his GPS and Camino guide. He had taken another wrong turn and looked quite hot and bothered. As it turns out he did’nt understand white and red stripes indicating GR route and so was not even looking at them! It was a revelation for him to learn the way is signposted! We joined up and walked together. Reaching Vauvert at 6:00pm we had something to eat at a brasserie before heading through the village to the auberge, Echovert, a place with outdoor solar showers, places to pitch a tent and outdoor dry toilets.Our accommodation for the night was in a “roulotte,” I actually booked for 2 nights deciding Sunday would be a good day to rest, do some washing and plan the next section of my journey as I wanted to make a detour and visit friends in the Ganges/Sumène area.

Monday the 20th of September.

Last night I rented a room through Airbnb. It turned out to be Benedicte’s charming house in Arboras. She was’nt there when I arrived but sent an SMS beforehand with instructions on where I could find the key. She also left a note on the kitchen table inviting me to make myself at home. After the usual ritual of having a shower and washing my underwear she arrived and said there was a concert in the church that evening. I had picked up a tin of sardines, a tomato and avocado in Montpeyroux which I had for dinner before we set off to the concert. Zakouska was the band and they played an enrapturing concert. An accordionist, two violinists and a guitarist. Afterwards I was invited to have a beer with a few of the locals and met group who were in the area for the vendange.

The next morning it was pleasant chatting to Benedicte while having breakfast after which I began my day’s walk in bright sunshine. I followed a single track path through the undulating hills and was rewarded with breath-taking views. An hour later it started to drizzle, I put on my swimming trunks, a light sleeveless shirt and wore my raincoat.

Today I did a modest 10kms and plan to extend the daily distances I travel. Tomorrow the plan is to do a 14km  walk to Lodève and on Wednesday about 23kms.

Wednesday 22nd of September.

The evening in Lodève was spent visiting St. Fulcrun cathedral. After wandering about the vast and impressive cathedral with its apse, various aisles and chapels, I could not get out. The main entrance was locked! Eventually I found my way out through an inconspicuous side door which led to the parsonage and rectory gardens.

I left Lodève this morning with my wet underpants and socks hanging out to dry, flailing on the outside of my backpack, showing them off around the whole town as I went in circles trying to find the way out. Even asking the locals how to find the route, the GR653, didn’t deliver desired results. Eventually I resorted to consulting Google maps and easily found my way, passing the couple who were arguing the night before in the Gite at Saint-Jean-de-la-Blaquière.

Once across Montifort the 12th century Roman bridge and on the right path, the walking was delightful. The air was fresh and breezy, a fine sunny day was emerging as I went my way through the forest. It was a constant but steady ascent, I got into my stride relishing the cheery morning. The bustle and sounds of the town faded and at times I stopped and listened to the silence, only the gentle sounds of nature could be heard , the cry of a crow and the soft rustling of leaves. I’m sure the wild boar could hear my footsteps, even though muffled by the carpet of pine needles. I saw signs of their spoor but they kept themselves well hidden. A few hours of walking uphill brought rewards of magnificent vistas of the rolling hills with an occasional house and property sprinkled on the landscape. The moments of solitude and peace and the feeling of being totally immersed in the countryside are rewarding beyond measure and inspired me to break out into spontaneous song. I arrived at the Gîte in Val de Nize around 2pm whereas I expected only to be there about 4pm. My pace has picked up, aches and pains have disappeared, I am keen to start covering distances of 18 to 20kms per day. Here in Val de Nize there is no phone reception and as I was early I have a moment lie down and enjoy the quietness of the hamlet and write my journal. Today I have got a room with dinner and breakfast which costs 40€. I look forward to a refreshing shower and exchanging my walking shoes for sandals.

Luc, a Canadian, and Daniel from Poitiers in France showed up later, they had met in Saint Gilles the first stop after Arles and since then they had been walking together. Veronique our hostess cooked a huge stew and I ate all I could. The banter around the dinner table was lively and entertaining, Luc and Daniel had both walked different variations of the Camino de Santiago and had an infinite supply of wonderful stories.

This morning after a typical French breakfast of bread, jam and coffee I set off at a leisurely pace stopping on route at Notre Dame de Nize, a tiny secluded church alongside a cascading stream. Further along I came across La Fonteine des Yeux, a source which is reputed to have healing qualities for the eyes. I reached Lunas at 9:30 where I enjoyed a cappuccino on a sunny terrace.

25th of September.

The day dawned overcast and damp. I wondered, should I stay or should I go? Having the entire gîte to myself it was tempting to lie in and have a lazy day. Actually if I was brutally honest with myself I was stalling as I did not want to get wet walking in the rain. I donned my swimming trunks and raincoat, deposited the keys in the letter box at the mayor’s office and took off taking care not to slip while clambering over the slippery rocky slopes. The pathway through the damp forest along the river La Mare was scenic, enchanting and impregnated with earthy aromas. I stopped for a brief tea break at a sheltered outside washing area before carrying on in spite of the drizzle. To cheer up under the grey cloud cover I sang, “Singing in the rain” and as if to humour me it began pouring with rain. I found shelter under the front door awning of a nobody home house and ate my picnic lunch. The rain stopped and I could see blue sky appearing through the swirling mists and happily changed my tune to, “I can see clearly now the rain has gone.” That afternoon I got so enthralled following a trinkling, dancing, singing stream that I lost my way in the forest and in trying to find my way out went stomping through the high grass getting my shoes totally soaked. I think getting lost exhausted me mentally more than physically and once I found my way back onto the path I was knackered and relieved to reach the gîte at Murat sur Vèbre.

At the gîte I met Bernard. For dinner we pooled our food resources, sharing what we had to facilitate a more varied culinary experience and spiced up the evening with lively conversation. After hearing about Bernard’s three month Camino walk from Le Puy in France all the way to Santiago I was inspired. That evening I decided to change my plans and instead of having Biarritz as my destination I was considering making Santiago my new destination.

At 7:00am on Sunday morning Bernard gave me an encouraging send off and I began my day’s journey to La Salvetat. A couple of hours later my legs felt weary and my shoulders ached. Not really having any choice I pressed on promising myself a lengthy lunch break when I reached lac du Laouzas.

The final 4km stretch from La Moutouse to La Salvetat was down hill along a charming country road. Knowing I was approaching my destination I found a spring in my step and trundled happily along. Upon reaching Salvetat I was surprised to find an unexpected steep and lengthy uphill climb to reach the village. I could only manage to put one foot in front of another and my backpack seemed to get heavier and heavier. As I entered the village I skirted around a car in the middle of the road and the route just kept going up and up and up, my only consolation that I was already in the village and soon I would be at the gite where I could have a shower deposit my backpack and find a place to eat. I was hungry. Only to find that the parked car I had passed earlier had hidden the red and white stripes indicating the way to the centre of the village. I had taken the wrong route and had to go back to then find a steep flight of stairs leading to the Office du Tourisme where I could find the key to the gite. Being Sunday the Tourist Office was closed, however when booking I had been given instructions and the combination code on how to find the key in a locked letter box.

Somewhat revived after having a shower and after doing my washing I set off back down the steps to find a restaurant. I was famished. Being Sunday I checked on Google to make sure which of the four restos in the village were open. At the bottom of the steps I realised I had forgotten my face mask and had to go back up again, pick up my mask and go down only to discover not a single restaurant was open. I was starving. While confused and looking on my tablet to see if I could find any other place in the vicinity to get a bite to eat, a guy on a scooter passed me, then stopped and turned around and asked me if he could help. In a fleeting moment while passing me he must have seen desperation written all over me. I asked where I could find something to eat. “Mmmmnn that’s difficult” he said, “Everything is closed. But maybe Auberge de la Resse is open, but that is 20 minute walk, uphill.” My heart sank, he said, “Wait here I will go and go and check for you.” And zoomed off in the direction in which he had come. I already started walking in the direction thinking it has to be open, it is my last chance. However 5 minutes later he came back saying, “Desolé c’est fermé.” Closed. Even with his full face helmet on I could see the look genuine pity in his eyes. “Oh! Well that’s just too bad” I said and thanked him for stopping and taking the trouble to go and check for me. His kindness was touching and lifted my deflated spirits but still hungry and with legs of rubber went back up the endless stairs to the gîte. In the kitchen I found a half a packet of spaghetti which I immediately cooked and garnished it with some mayonnaise which was in the fridge. Feeling satisfied and before falling soundly asleep I decided the next day I would take a break.

The next morning I bought some supplies from the Spar which opened at 8:00am. This time climbing the stairs back to the gîte certainly went a lot easier.  I had a hearty breakfast, chocolate croissants, yoghurt with fruit and nuts and coffee. Then went to the Tourist Office at 10am to thank the lady who had left the key, disposable sheets and instructions on how to get to the gîte. I booked to stay another night and got a well earned stamp in my credencial.

Monday 27^th September.

I had a days rest, wrote postcards while sitting on a terrace and went for a snooze in the afternoon. In the evening Jean-Maurice turned up. He went shopping and generously bought plenty of food and wine for both of us. We prepared a meal together in the communal kitchen and had a most enjoyable evening.