Camping was not a clever idea. I gave up camping holidays some years ago not because I didn’t enjoy the experience, but because increasing arthritis meant that I was unable to bend and fold myself in ways that make managing small tents practical and enjoyable.

So when heavy rain started as I was finishing supper I had forebodings. I retreated to the tent and it got heavier and heavier, and the temperature dropped alarmingly. My hosts had provided a sort of mat for me to sleep on. My back absolutely hated this, so what with back pain, and cold and driving rain and wind (with thunder and lightning at 4am) I got very little sleep.

The weather was very overcast. And within half a kilometre it was chucking it down. I could do nothing until I got to Chalus and could change trousers for shorts with rain trousers over. It didn’t let up all morning. But unlike yesterday the route took me onto woodland paths and along green lanes, so, even though the weather was dire the walking was a pleasure. 

Lunch was in a cafe a little over halfway through the day’s walk (22.7kms), and marked the point where I left cowless Limousin for Périgord, the northern region of the Dordogne Départment. The countryside changed. Smaller fields, wiggler roads yielding charming views at every turn. Add hedges and you have England – no wonder we like it so much.

The whole of this part of France is struggling with floods after exceptional rain for months. The pathways are extremely muddy, and waterproof boots were not entirely up to it!

After what seemed a long wet slog I got to La Coquille and found the pilgrims’ refuge, hosted by the admirable Yvette and Jean-Jacques. Experienced pilgrims themselves, they knew what we needed. A drink, a hot shower, and somewhere to dry clothes and boots.

Dinner was hearty, the dormitory spotless, and I shared it with Thierry (French) and Fabienne (Belgian). Both were very considerate sleeping companions, and I slept like a log.