I woke early to an overcast sky but with no rain or no wind, so very happy. Breakfast was at 7:30 with Michel - old and tired rye bread, but with plenty of butter and jam - and stewed and lukewarm coffee in a bowl. It could not be much more basic
Michel is like a cartoon hermit, a little unkempt in an old cardigan, stinking of stale cigarette smoke, hunched over and silent. The whole house smelled of old cigarette smoke and it was hard to align the positive comments in the register. Mine was more to the point 'thank you for the refuge when I needed one.'
I took a quick turn through the village and then got my daily bread and picked up my gear, walking out of the gite for the last time at about 8:30. Five minutes later I had crossed the bridge and was walking out of the village. The balises (markers) were frequent which reassured me. The track climbed steadily through bare chestnut trees with heavy forest litter that wild boar or other beasties had been digging through. In an hour I was looking down on Andabre and the track then descended to the road. The trickiest part was getting past a crane; a stone mason was using the bucket as a bench.
There were mostly conifers down by La Mare, the small river. This was all very pleasant walking. I stopped at a rest area just after the ruin of a mill (a sign about Visigoths!) about 10:30 for a second breakfast of baguette and boiled egg. Got the boots and socks off to air my feet (I won't mention this again, but at most rest stops I will try to get my boots off to give my feet a break from confinement.)
Just after Castenet le-Haut I crossed this small and ancient stone bridge and the path began climbing again, with fewer balises. Then after a while I realized that I had not seen one for a while. There was a very rough path so I persevered until I found myself at a tiny creek with no real sign of a way forward; it looked like an area used by hunters, with a rough hide. It reminded me of being in the hills in Spain two years ago, but this time with just me and not three of us. I did have a poke around in case this was really the path, but this just proved that it was not! So I retraced my steps for a couple of hundred metres until I saw a walker turning off the well worn path.
There I found a marker for the turn. It is the standard two bar (red and white) bar but with a 'leg' on it indicating the turn. I had missed that detail. In my defence, this new path was a real goat track and climbed straight up, but in a short time it hit a substantial gravel road. For the first time on this Camino I found myself walking between two pairs of other pilgrims! The road climbed through the forest and into open emerald green pastures with wonderful views back over the mountains; unfortunately it was too misty for a decent picture.
Just after the road reached the high point and headed down, I stopped by the D53 for lunch, at 1:00, with Ginestet just ahead, and a row of wind turbines off to the left. I made it a short stop, knowing it was to be a long day.
Shortly after the path again left the pasture country and back into forest, lovely; but I was intrigued that most parts were almost all of one species - chestnut, spruce, pine and what I took to be elm. I really enjoyed this walking through undulating forest, occasionally looking down at little creeks.
The colours are muted and in the elm, or is it beech, forest, the leaf litter was so deep that it was hard to see the path, or the rocks and holes beneath. I was now being very careful to keep an eye out for markers, with the track so indistinct.
In the sections of spruce forest there were several coupes of recently felled trees, with substantial piles of logs This clear felling looks as ugly here as it does in a eucalypt forest at home.
I was very pleased to reach Les Senausses, morea collection of houses than a village, but a sign that there was just over 5kms to go. This was now back into pasture country and I came across a Mum and kids bringing back firewood. The border collie got quite defensive and was going to eat me, but the white kid that was part of the party was just curious.
Finally the path reached the D922 and Murat was just around the corner. It was two hours from my lunch stop (3:30) but I kept on and signs took me off the road and onto a gravel foot path between holly hedges. This brought me into the village/town and I found my way to the mairie (town hall), and booked in to the gite communale - for E12. It is behind the school and in a basement - looks very basic - a kitchen opening onto a dormitory with the toilets in a room outside and a separate laundry, with no sign of showers.
My pattern on arriving at my accommodation is to have a shower as soon as possible so I can wash at least some of my clothes - either in the shower or a tub. There might be enough time for them to dry before night falls. With no sign of showers I had to improvise by climbing into a laundry tub and having a quick but cold 'top and tail'. Very glad there was no audience and it was just a little cool (the hand basins on the opposite wall did have hot water, but too hard to manage that). Later I found a sign behind the door that gave directions to the showers beyond the locked door - with the key on the clothes hook. But then I found from others that there was no hot water there either, so I didn't miss much. By now the wind was blowing and the clothes line was in the sun, so my clothes dried quite well.
I then had a poke around the town to check out options for dinner. It seems a quite new town but with a huge list of World War I dead, but that is probably from the region. The hotel meal seemed quite expensive, so I went to the supermarket and got supplies, then had a quiet pernod at the bar. I saw the other people from the road before lunch. One was shopping and we did not have the chance to talk, but the others turned up at the gite. I found out that they had gotten badly off the Way and walked an extra 5 - 10kms. So I did not do so badly after all. I cooked boy food (a fry up) early in case there was competition for the stove, but the others went out anyway.
According to my pedometer App I had walked 26.5kms. At lunch I did a check; at that stage the App showed 16.33 and the sign said 9.5 to Murat (25.83) and I might have done a little more going by the footpath than on the road. So perhaps the App may not be under-reading as much as I had thought - or perhaps it under-reads on the flat walking around Beaumaris, when my stride lengthens, but averages out in undulating walking like this day. My MMD guide map gives a distance of 21kms, but is not necessarily reliable. I will need to do some more checking.
Michel is like a cartoon hermit, a little unkempt in an old cardigan, stinking of stale cigarette smoke, hunched over and silent. The whole house smelled of old cigarette smoke and it was hard to align the positive comments in the register. Mine was more to the point 'thank you for the refuge when I needed one.'
I took a quick turn through the village and then got my daily bread and picked up my gear, walking out of the gite for the last time at about 8:30. Five minutes later I had crossed the bridge and was walking out of the village. The balises (markers) were frequent which reassured me. The track climbed steadily through bare chestnut trees with heavy forest litter that wild boar or other beasties had been digging through. In an hour I was looking down on Andabre and the track then descended to the road. The trickiest part was getting past a crane; a stone mason was using the bucket as a bench.
There were mostly conifers down by La Mare, the small river. This was all very pleasant walking. I stopped at a rest area just after the ruin of a mill (a sign about Visigoths!) about 10:30 for a second breakfast of baguette and boiled egg. Got the boots and socks off to air my feet (I won't mention this again, but at most rest stops I will try to get my boots off to give my feet a break from confinement.)
Just after Castenet le-Haut I crossed this small and ancient stone bridge and the path began climbing again, with fewer balises. Then after a while I realized that I had not seen one for a while. There was a very rough path so I persevered until I found myself at a tiny creek with no real sign of a way forward; it looked like an area used by hunters, with a rough hide. It reminded me of being in the hills in Spain two years ago, but this time with just me and not three of us. I did have a poke around in case this was really the path, but this just proved that it was not! So I retraced my steps for a couple of hundred metres until I saw a walker turning off the well worn path.
There I found a marker for the turn. It is the standard two bar (red and white) bar but with a 'leg' on it indicating the turn. I had missed that detail. In my defence, this new path was a real goat track and climbed straight up, but in a short time it hit a substantial gravel road. For the first time on this Camino I found myself walking between two pairs of other pilgrims! The road climbed through the forest and into open emerald green pastures with wonderful views back over the mountains; unfortunately it was too misty for a decent picture.
Just after the road reached the high point and headed down, I stopped by the D53 for lunch, at 1:00, with Ginestet just ahead, and a row of wind turbines off to the left. I made it a short stop, knowing it was to be a long day.
Shortly after the path again left the pasture country and back into forest, lovely; but I was intrigued that most parts were almost all of one species - chestnut, spruce, pine and what I took to be elm. I really enjoyed this walking through undulating forest, occasionally looking down at little creeks.
The colours are muted and in the elm, or is it beech, forest, the leaf litter was so deep that it was hard to see the path, or the rocks and holes beneath. I was now being very careful to keep an eye out for markers, with the track so indistinct.
In the sections of spruce forest there were several coupes of recently felled trees, with substantial piles of logs This clear felling looks as ugly here as it does in a eucalypt forest at home.
I was very pleased to reach Les Senausses, morea collection of houses than a village, but a sign that there was just over 5kms to go. This was now back into pasture country and I came across a Mum and kids bringing back firewood. The border collie got quite defensive and was going to eat me, but the white kid that was part of the party was just curious.
Finally the path reached the D922 and Murat was just around the corner. It was two hours from my lunch stop (3:30) but I kept on and signs took me off the road and onto a gravel foot path between holly hedges. This brought me into the village/town and I found my way to the mairie (town hall), and booked in to the gite communale - for E12. It is behind the school and in a basement - looks very basic - a kitchen opening onto a dormitory with the toilets in a room outside and a separate laundry, with no sign of showers.
My pattern on arriving at my accommodation is to have a shower as soon as possible so I can wash at least some of my clothes - either in the shower or a tub. There might be enough time for them to dry before night falls. With no sign of showers I had to improvise by climbing into a laundry tub and having a quick but cold 'top and tail'. Very glad there was no audience and it was just a little cool (the hand basins on the opposite wall did have hot water, but too hard to manage that). Later I found a sign behind the door that gave directions to the showers beyond the locked door - with the key on the clothes hook. But then I found from others that there was no hot water there either, so I didn't miss much. By now the wind was blowing and the clothes line was in the sun, so my clothes dried quite well.
I then had a poke around the town to check out options for dinner. It seems a quite new town but with a huge list of World War I dead, but that is probably from the region. The hotel meal seemed quite expensive, so I went to the supermarket and got supplies, then had a quiet pernod at the bar. I saw the other people from the road before lunch. One was shopping and we did not have the chance to talk, but the others turned up at the gite. I found out that they had gotten badly off the Way and walked an extra 5 - 10kms. So I did not do so badly after all. I cooked boy food (a fry up) early in case there was competition for the stove, but the others went out anyway.
According to my pedometer App I had walked 26.5kms. At lunch I did a check; at that stage the App showed 16.33 and the sign said 9.5 to Murat (25.83) and I might have done a little more going by the footpath than on the road. So perhaps the App may not be under-reading as much as I had thought - or perhaps it under-reads on the flat walking around Beaumaris, when my stride lengthens, but averages out in undulating walking like this day. My MMD guide map gives a distance of 21kms, but is not necessarily reliable. I will need to do some more checking.
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