I woke to blue sky and high fluffy cloud - and quite cool. It was a wonderful sleep, with the window open and no heating! I look out on a very narrow and quiet lane. The church bell may have struck all through the night, but I didn't hear it from 9:00 to %:00 - courtesy of Dozy! I got up at 7:30, quickly packed and then wandered down to the boulangerie. I almost felt French as I came back past the church with my baguette. It felt a luxurious breakfast - yoghurt and banana followed by fresh bread and jam.
Jacques was up by the time I left a little before 9:00 but it sounded like he is to meet someone at Angles and is not planning to stay at the Gite Municipale. There was some confusion getting out of town as I had not reconnoitred the night before. I went back down to the main road [and the laverie and fountain - where there was a local with a pack of carafes to fill].
I had figured that I had to go to the bridge at the end of town and fortunately there found balises - just past it - which took me off to the right - as per the MMD map. I followed the D14E1 for an hour or so, past this old bridge [Pont de la Lune],
until the markers finally took me off to the left on a much more 'minor' road. This gradually became more and more 'minor' until it became more like a timber getters' track. There were elm, oak, spruce and pine, with a few cleared coupes and the sound of chain saws still in action. Then the path started to look like a quite ancient way, with low moss covered dry-stone walls beside it
i stopped around here for egg sandwiches about 11:00 and realized that I had enjoyed my bread and jam breakfast too much! I should have kept more.
The weather had looked like improving and I had thought briefly about walking in shorts, but a cool wind had blown up and I found myself putting the rain jacket back on. The country stayed much the same, and I passed several more stores of sawn logs. The path stayed very quiet but got quite rough in places and I almost twisted my ankle; not the place to do it.
About 1:00 I walked through Crouzettes and very shortly after stopped for lunch. There was plenty of camembert but very little bread - still with plenty of cheese and a big mandarin, it felt like a feast, especially as I was now sitting in a little sun. But not too long after lunch it started to rain.
I walked through the 'suburbs' of Angles by 2:20 and to the centre where I found the mairie and got a key to the gite. I must have looked as if I was struggling with the directions in French, so madame kindly produced a sheet in English. I confess I still found them confusing and almost by chance finally fell on the door - it was BEHIND the post office, rather than BESIDE it as per those directions.
It is a lovely little gite, with two dormitories beyond a tiny kitchen and off that a tiny bathroom.. Maybe the best part was the very hot water. I had a shower and did some washing by 3:30 so I could have a wander around the village. This quickly established that there was not a lot to see; a lovely little bar on the main square, but the two epiceries did not have much in the way of provisions, and there didn't seem to be other places to eat. There is an 'ancienne porte' and a temple [which I think means 'protestant']. The church has a list of priests but the names ran out at 1507, and a gap between 1570 and 1660 - I guess because of the 'Wars of Religion' when the church was destroyed.
I had a beer at the cafe-tabac and watched four road bike riders strut about on their beer break [no sign of coffee here]! There was also a couple on a huge motor bike. They made a grand exit - and then returned for the jar of jam left behind. I did notice people around an 'alimentation' sign and tried it for food. It was the most amazing place. The door was difficult to open, and it was finally opened by an old joker who might have been a customer. The place was run by a really ancient couple and had this jumble of 'stuff' that I was dubious about. I did buy a little fruit to make some contribution. The old lady carefully gave me my 1c change.
On the way back I found Jacques at the cafe and he said Marie was at my gite. I had a bit of a chat with her and she explained why she was not walking with him now; all he wants for dinner is pork/charcuterie and beans! She is going to Castries tomorrow, a big day, but then doing a short one. It sounded a good idea. The good news she had was that a lady around the corner was offering a tagine dinner for 10Euro at 7:30. I signed up immediately.
I did find the way out of town this time and bought wine for dinner and supplies for the morrow. About 7:00 another two people bustled into the gite. I had last seen them at St Roche in Montpellier. He looks like a wizened outdoors man and she is much younger with plenty of blond hair and legs made for walking. I had thought they were father and daughter. Marie later told their story over dinner. They were most definitely not father and daughter, but had met on Camino a few years before; he is from Normandy and she from Marseilles and now walk together. Not just that, but they 'bivouac' which means here that their shelter is generally just a sheet of waterproof. Last night had been very cold so they were using the gite as a treat. They seemed to be drinking some sort of nettle soup - which fitted with his look, but not her's. He seemed to have quite a big pack but her's was very small - and the shorts she was wearing at Montpellier and here would not take much space - nor the gear drying on the rack outside,
Dinner was wonderful- a spicey soup, then the chicken and potato tagine and a puree dessert.
Jacques was up by the time I left a little before 9:00 but it sounded like he is to meet someone at Angles and is not planning to stay at the Gite Municipale. There was some confusion getting out of town as I had not reconnoitred the night before. I went back down to the main road [and the laverie and fountain - where there was a local with a pack of carafes to fill].
I had figured that I had to go to the bridge at the end of town and fortunately there found balises - just past it - which took me off to the right - as per the MMD map. I followed the D14E1 for an hour or so, past this old bridge [Pont de la Lune],
until the markers finally took me off to the left on a much more 'minor' road. This gradually became more and more 'minor' until it became more like a timber getters' track. There were elm, oak, spruce and pine, with a few cleared coupes and the sound of chain saws still in action. Then the path started to look like a quite ancient way, with low moss covered dry-stone walls beside it
i stopped around here for egg sandwiches about 11:00 and realized that I had enjoyed my bread and jam breakfast too much! I should have kept more.
The weather had looked like improving and I had thought briefly about walking in shorts, but a cool wind had blown up and I found myself putting the rain jacket back on. The country stayed much the same, and I passed several more stores of sawn logs. The path stayed very quiet but got quite rough in places and I almost twisted my ankle; not the place to do it.
About 1:00 I walked through Crouzettes and very shortly after stopped for lunch. There was plenty of camembert but very little bread - still with plenty of cheese and a big mandarin, it felt like a feast, especially as I was now sitting in a little sun. But not too long after lunch it started to rain.
I walked through the 'suburbs' of Angles by 2:20 and to the centre where I found the mairie and got a key to the gite. I must have looked as if I was struggling with the directions in French, so madame kindly produced a sheet in English. I confess I still found them confusing and almost by chance finally fell on the door - it was BEHIND the post office, rather than BESIDE it as per those directions.
It is a lovely little gite, with two dormitories beyond a tiny kitchen and off that a tiny bathroom.. Maybe the best part was the very hot water. I had a shower and did some washing by 3:30 so I could have a wander around the village. This quickly established that there was not a lot to see; a lovely little bar on the main square, but the two epiceries did not have much in the way of provisions, and there didn't seem to be other places to eat. There is an 'ancienne porte' and a temple [which I think means 'protestant']. The church has a list of priests but the names ran out at 1507, and a gap between 1570 and 1660 - I guess because of the 'Wars of Religion' when the church was destroyed.
I had a beer at the cafe-tabac and watched four road bike riders strut about on their beer break [no sign of coffee here]! There was also a couple on a huge motor bike. They made a grand exit - and then returned for the jar of jam left behind. I did notice people around an 'alimentation' sign and tried it for food. It was the most amazing place. The door was difficult to open, and it was finally opened by an old joker who might have been a customer. The place was run by a really ancient couple and had this jumble of 'stuff' that I was dubious about. I did buy a little fruit to make some contribution. The old lady carefully gave me my 1c change.
On the way back I found Jacques at the cafe and he said Marie was at my gite. I had a bit of a chat with her and she explained why she was not walking with him now; all he wants for dinner is pork/charcuterie and beans! She is going to Castries tomorrow, a big day, but then doing a short one. It sounded a good idea. The good news she had was that a lady around the corner was offering a tagine dinner for 10Euro at 7:30. I signed up immediately.
I did find the way out of town this time and bought wine for dinner and supplies for the morrow. About 7:00 another two people bustled into the gite. I had last seen them at St Roche in Montpellier. He looks like a wizened outdoors man and she is much younger with plenty of blond hair and legs made for walking. I had thought they were father and daughter. Marie later told their story over dinner. They were most definitely not father and daughter, but had met on Camino a few years before; he is from Normandy and she from Marseilles and now walk together. Not just that, but they 'bivouac' which means here that their shelter is generally just a sheet of waterproof. Last night had been very cold so they were using the gite as a treat. They seemed to be drinking some sort of nettle soup - which fitted with his look, but not her's. He seemed to have quite a big pack but her's was very small - and the shorts she was wearing at Montpellier and here would not take much space - nor the gear drying on the rack outside,
Dinner was wonderful- a spicey soup, then the chicken and potato tagine and a puree dessert.
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