Moonset on the Meseta

Moonset on the Meseta

Saturday, April 28, 2018

Voie d’Arles Day 7 “Easy” not so Easy

Voie D’Arles day 7, Friday, April 27, 2018:  La Barraque at Saint-Christaud to Marciac.  Our 7th wedding anniversary. (11 miles, 24,306 steps on phone), 14-16 km

“Easy Day” not so Easy

We didn’t try to get off early because we knew we had such a short day, just 14-16 km to go.  We had coffee, bread and jam, and visited with Joanna and a farmer neighbor who was transporting her over-one year-old calf for slaughter.

As we walked up the hill back to the Chemin, we had our first view of the snowy Pyrenees.  I took pictures,but they were too hazy to show clearly.  The sun was shining and there was a brisk wind.  A hawk fluttered in place.  ÎIt was cool and perfect for walking.  We rounded the Fortress-like Eglise St. Christoffe,and descended on steep wet paths to fields below, which we wound along forever—often turning to see St. Christoffe still looming fortress-like behind us.  The grass was often tall and wet.  An abundance of Timothy hay made my eyes itch. In the distance a gothic spire loomed ahead, and something that looked like a very tall thin chimney.  On a high hill we threw down my rain poncho and drank water, shared an apple and finished the potato chips.  Tractors plowed the fields.  We crossed the straight, busy highway that ran directly into Marciac, but our path climbed steeply upwards perpendicular to the road.  The church we’d seen from afar was not open.  I walked all the way around it before we started the long descent toward the church steeples of Marciac, which never seemed to get closer. We were soon walking in tall grass again, struggling with uneven footing.  When the path turned to go uphill once more, we decided to walk the short distance to the busy highway straight into town instead.  That was probably not the wisest choice, as the highway edge was narrow, and it still seemed to take forever.

We stopped briefly at a SuperU at the edge of town, where I sat on a curb in the parking lot feeling like a homeless bag lady, while Kent went into the store that advertised no midday closing.  From there we walked on footpaths, and on the edge of the old town, we came to a restaurant with dinners eating beautiful-looking salads and drinking carafes of wine.  

“It’s very good!” A woman gestured to us and called out in Engllsh.  So we enjoyed a delicious anniversary dejeuner.  We found our hotel on the main “place” just minutes after leaving the restaurant and thus arrived refreshed rather than in our usual exhausted state.  It was just before the 3 pm check-in time.  We showered and enjoyed having real towels with which to dry off, and took an hour’s nap.

At 19 hours we met Emanuel and two other pilgrims, Frank from Toulouse and Querina (who had already been traveling 60 days from Holland and who slept in a tent) for a pizza dinner, a real camino gathering of fellow pilgrims, although we were probably three times the age of the others.

It was a good day after all, but we learned it is better to anticipate “hard” than to expect “easy” and then be disappointed.  Our first week of walking had been completed, as had seven years of our official life together.  What adventures we have had, and joy after the sorrow of loss.






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