I have been home five days, and a lot has been going on. But looking back at my week away there are some things that stand out very much.

Until I got to Gargilesse, the experience had been a solitary one, in May and this month. Then I met Cécile in the bar at Gargilesse, and the next day Serge and Marijka. We lodged together, and we walked together sometimes, and socialised a bit. This was the start for me of Camino fellowship, and it was fine. There was enough easiness between us for people not to need to talk, or for someone to walk faster and another slower. As Serge said “everyone has their own rhythm”.

I suspect that this will become very much more the pattern as I move further South, and I have been told by old hands that Spain is very busy. But while I have loved the solitude, company is a gift also, especially finding in Cécile someone “très sympa”.

I am reasonably fluent in French (note to self – start working on Spanish!), but I have learnt a lot of country and nature vocab this week. It felt like a warmish autumn, summer was definitely over, and leaves were falling. I absolutely love the times when you get led into the vastness of a broadleaf French forest, with its own light and shade. It isn’t dark like a pine forest, but has a great richness and variety. Autumn fruits were abundant, especially the fuzzy ‘châtaignes’, or sweet chestnuts. It was a utter joy to see a roe deer with her young two days running, and to tuck away ‘chevreuil’. And I had no idea that a French literary term for a fox was ‘un goupil’, rather like we might have spoken of a tod.

Philip was my original inspiration for undertaking this journey. Friends from our first days at university, he walked the Camino not long after we graduated, and was an advocate of its virtues. He died this summer three years after getting lung cancer. It was important for me to remember him as I went, to light candles and pray for him at every church I could find open. I was also very conscious of another friend, who I heard was gravely ill. And I associated him, his wife and family in my prayers along the way. I was lucky enough to be able to go and see him and pray with him yesterday. He was a huge help and encouragement to me when I first came to Southwell, and remained a good friend. He died today and will be much missed. Rest in peace, Robin Turner.

I am learning not to be surprised by the kindness of strangers. I think there is something about people who turn up on foot that makes us less threatening and easier to connect with. We are usually sweaty and tired as well. But people this week have been wonderfully kind – from Paul, the Irishman who took me from the airport to the station 6 miles away, to the hostess who insisted on doing all my washing for nothing, to Jean-Cédric and his his family. I only asked them where I could buy a coffee, and I was hauled back to theirs for coffee, lunch and more coffee!

By contrast, there was one house which felt weird. I think the huge and vicious guard dog (half Pyrenean mountain dog and half Tibetan mastiff) trying to take a chunk out of me didn’t help! It was clean, but rather spartan, Monsieur was small and taciturn, madame invisible, and I was glad to leave.

The walking was great, my body stood up to it well, as did my feet. And I was very pleased to make some more progress. But it was not ideal to rocket out of one event and go straight off again 15 hours later. Pilgrimage needs a bit more of a reflective approach. It was also getting very much to the end of the season. I wouldn’t like to be walking through the winter. But I really look forward to the spring and getting back on the way again!