Another night of disturbed sleep,but I am still functioning. When I look outside, the sky is totally clear - and it is probably because of the very strong cold wind blowing.
After getting our gear together we made it to the church at 7:30 for the service. There were 8 nuns doing almost all the singing and only 4 others - and all from the gite. The others were Anna and a teenager who was part of a family group we saw in the kitchen last night. I was interested in the demographics of that group of nuns - one was African [or that heritage], two east Asians, one French and very old, one in her sixties (Sr Chantal who looks after the gite) and one young woman. You have to wonder how many were here in the 'glory days' - but they are holding up a tradition that has existed here (apart from the time after the Revolution when it was broken up) for over 1,000 years.
We adjourned to a little cafe at the edge of the square that was not quite open - Cafe du Penitents (! - not about their customers, but an order that used to be here). A French breakfast - cafe au lait and chocolate pastry - I am far from convinced that this sets me up for a day of walking!
Our gite courtyard, looking up to the dormitory, with the kitchen/dining area below.
After finally getting away from the gite, we found (much to my surprise) the boulangerie, and so could get bread for lunch.
The walk out of St-Guilhem is further up the narrow valley and effectively climbing into to surrounding hills, through stunted pines which is possibly all that could grow in this stony area The surroundings are quite beautiful as can be seen from this one picture
In spite of that cold wind, which was getting stronger as we ascended, the steep climb soon had me taking off my jacket The choice was between a cold chest and sweating in the jacket. Once we had climbed to the edge of the escarpment we seemed to be on a plateau and the path was more sheltered among the trees.
Soon after though, we were out of the trees and into quite open country with the wind roaring around our ears. There seemed to be views to the Mediterranean, but I could not manage a decent picture. We walked along gravel roads for quite some time and seemed to cross over a ridge so that we were looking inland and towards villages in the middle distance.
Finally we started to descend slowly. It looked like the road looped away to the right with what looked like the same road below us on the other side of a vineyard. So I suggested a shortcut. No sooner had I warned Phil of loose rocks and the need for care, when I heard the sound of rolling rocks and turned around to find him on the deck!! Ir looked like a twisted ankle and I helped him up to the road.
From the look of it, I guessed that he would not be walking any further this day - he did try to hobble, but that was all he could manage. So, we opted to have some lunch and think about what next.
It really did not take much thinking. He needed transport and probably to go back to a place where he could rest and perhaps see a doctor. Phil has a cousin living in Montpellier, so he called her and arranged for her to come to Montpeyroux where I would meet and then guide her back to Phil. Simple.
So, off I set, with just one pole and a water bottle. The walking was much easier without a pack but it did seem a long way. I passed a number of parked cars and guessed that they were rock climbers. Then down to a D road and road signs. But then I got a real surprise. There was no mention of Montpeyroux at all. The only other name I recognized was Arboras and I guessed that it was the place I could see quite near, but across a little valley.
So I called Phil. The conversation was very difficult as the wind was now roaring and even when I found shelter near a rock wall it was very difficult to communicate. Finally we were able to sort out that I would walk to Arboras and wait by the chateau for Chantal. Even this seemed more complicated than I expected, with a warren of village streets, but it did.
Eventually Chantal arrived and we drove back to the turn off and up the road. She already knew that Phil had got a lift with a quad bike to where those cars were parked, so I missed the chance to see just how far I'd walked - but I guess that it was at least 7kms.
All this had demonstrated that at some stage we had got off the path - why we were close to Arboras (this would not have been a problem if Phil had not fallen, since the Way did go to Arboras after Montpeyroux.
And so we went back to Chantal's little apartment in Montpellier.
After getting our gear together we made it to the church at 7:30 for the service. There were 8 nuns doing almost all the singing and only 4 others - and all from the gite. The others were Anna and a teenager who was part of a family group we saw in the kitchen last night. I was interested in the demographics of that group of nuns - one was African [or that heritage], two east Asians, one French and very old, one in her sixties (Sr Chantal who looks after the gite) and one young woman. You have to wonder how many were here in the 'glory days' - but they are holding up a tradition that has existed here (apart from the time after the Revolution when it was broken up) for over 1,000 years.
We adjourned to a little cafe at the edge of the square that was not quite open - Cafe du Penitents (! - not about their customers, but an order that used to be here). A French breakfast - cafe au lait and chocolate pastry - I am far from convinced that this sets me up for a day of walking!
Our gite courtyard, looking up to the dormitory, with the kitchen/dining area below.
After finally getting away from the gite, we found (much to my surprise) the boulangerie, and so could get bread for lunch.
The walk out of St-Guilhem is further up the narrow valley and effectively climbing into to surrounding hills, through stunted pines which is possibly all that could grow in this stony area The surroundings are quite beautiful as can be seen from this one picture
In spite of that cold wind, which was getting stronger as we ascended, the steep climb soon had me taking off my jacket The choice was between a cold chest and sweating in the jacket. Once we had climbed to the edge of the escarpment we seemed to be on a plateau and the path was more sheltered among the trees.
Soon after though, we were out of the trees and into quite open country with the wind roaring around our ears. There seemed to be views to the Mediterranean, but I could not manage a decent picture. We walked along gravel roads for quite some time and seemed to cross over a ridge so that we were looking inland and towards villages in the middle distance.
Finally we started to descend slowly. It looked like the road looped away to the right with what looked like the same road below us on the other side of a vineyard. So I suggested a shortcut. No sooner had I warned Phil of loose rocks and the need for care, when I heard the sound of rolling rocks and turned around to find him on the deck!! Ir looked like a twisted ankle and I helped him up to the road.
From the look of it, I guessed that he would not be walking any further this day - he did try to hobble, but that was all he could manage. So, we opted to have some lunch and think about what next.
It really did not take much thinking. He needed transport and probably to go back to a place where he could rest and perhaps see a doctor. Phil has a cousin living in Montpellier, so he called her and arranged for her to come to Montpeyroux where I would meet and then guide her back to Phil. Simple.
So, off I set, with just one pole and a water bottle. The walking was much easier without a pack but it did seem a long way. I passed a number of parked cars and guessed that they were rock climbers. Then down to a D road and road signs. But then I got a real surprise. There was no mention of Montpeyroux at all. The only other name I recognized was Arboras and I guessed that it was the place I could see quite near, but across a little valley.
So I called Phil. The conversation was very difficult as the wind was now roaring and even when I found shelter near a rock wall it was very difficult to communicate. Finally we were able to sort out that I would walk to Arboras and wait by the chateau for Chantal. Even this seemed more complicated than I expected, with a warren of village streets, but it did.
Eventually Chantal arrived and we drove back to the turn off and up the road. She already knew that Phil had got a lift with a quad bike to where those cars were parked, so I missed the chance to see just how far I'd walked - but I guess that it was at least 7kms.
All this had demonstrated that at some stage we had got off the path - why we were close to Arboras (this would not have been a problem if Phil had not fallen, since the Way did go to Arboras after Montpeyroux.
And so we went back to Chantal's little apartment in Montpellier.
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