This was my first walking day. I was up early after a good night’s sleep, and ready before Breakfast, so I was on the road by 7.22.

Sainte-Foy was wrapped in quite heavy mists;

This made walking along the road rather thrilling, though French drivers do pull out when they see you coming.

Today was also “La Rentrée” – national back to school day. I passed a lot of slightly anxious-looking young people with their parents or grandparents. Sainte-Foy has two lycées; lycée normale, and the rather less common lycée prof – which I suspect has a curriculum similar to our business studies, plus hospitality and some computer stuff.

The young people, aged 16, gathering outside waiting to be let in had normal school bags, but also suitcases because they are going to be boarding in the internat. Because the lycée  prof students come from a much wider area it makes more sense for them to weekly board (most who are going to), or longer for a few. This was not something that I thought the national education system undertook in France.

After an hour or so walking in this heavy mist it was impossible to know if I was wet through from sweating with the activity and the backpack, or if it was wet air settling on me. I suspect a mix of the two.

After Saint André the mist started to lift, and as it did the temperature, which had been a comfortable 17 degrees, began to climb, hitting 28 degrees in the early afternoon. I don’t mind that sort of heat, but the humidity made it really punishing. I can’t remember a day when I have taken on so much fluid. I had no appetite for food at all, which is most unlike me.

I neither met nor passed a soul all day, so I had lots of time for my own thoughts. Laurence and I see eye to eye on most things, but he really can’t understand why I want to go walking about, carrying a heavy load, and getting unconfortably hot and sweaty.

So I thought how I could explain this. I realise that quite apart from religious motive or historical interest (both of which are strong in me) there is something else which may chime with others.

When I walk along this route I realise that I am walking where I have never been, and where I will never walk again, most likely. So this whole experience is an invitation to focus on  the present moment, and to inhabit it fully, because it is a huge gift and opportunity. This does two things to me: first of all, it makes me very aware of the natural environment I am walking through. I talk to the trees, I notice everything from ants to bugs, from slugs to snails, and other insects too, to birds of all sizes, lizards and snakes, and rabbits, hares, cattle, donkeys, horses, and wild deer. I am, like all of them, but a passing thing; it gives me so much in this present moment to be more aware of what and who I share it with.

Secondly, I am filled with an extraordinary gratitude for the gift of this experience. It comes with a great intensity, and it connects with my faith, but I don’t think it is by any means confined to the religious who go on pilgrimage. Others have described it to me.

A lot of today was walking through vines, much on roads (less comfortable), some on paths (much nicer). The picture of me in the vines was taken just before three huge vine dressing machines drove up.

But by the time they were in position it was 11.55, and this being France, they all downed tools and went off for le repas du midi!

I got to Pellegrue by about 14.15, and found water and drinks, so had a break there until 15:00, and then took on the last 9kms. This took until 17:00, and the bell on the fortress-like Benedictine abbey church was chiming the time as I walked into the village.

I am the only person staying at the pilgrim hostel here, so I have had a lovely quiet evening. Dinner and chat with my hosts, and then some reflection. I think I have walked 32 kms today, and the blisters on my heels are telling me this is too much. So I need to rejig what I am planning to do, even if it results in slower progress. This is not a race, Jeremy!

Good night and God bless you all.