Monastery life starts at 04.30 with a vigil. I didn’t make that, but got up early, packed up and was at breakfast at 07.00. There I saw a rare and beautiful thing –

Kettles. Which meant a proper cup of tea (even with the accursed Lipton’s teabag) for breakfast. I was away by 07.30.

St Germain’s church was a noble sight in the rising sun, perched on its rise. But, like so many, it was locked, so I said a prayer for the people of the place, admired the craggy west front and passed on.

A roe deer started out only a few hundred metres further on. And then I rang home to see L open some of the cards that had come to mark his 25 years of sobriety. It is a tremendous achievement, and I am hugely proud of him. He has some special things to do and people to see, so I know he will feel fully celebrated. Our deal is that this anniversary is a card only one, but I bought him a little gift for this special landmark.

Today’s walk was 20kms, and was a completely rural route without any centres of habitation. One beautiful part was passing the lake at Brouqueyran – I saw only one fisherman there. He was not communicative.

By 10.00 the fine morning was clouding over, and heavy clouds dropped a few spots of rain. In the woods I found these “palombes”, with slightly menacing warning notices telling walkers that the path would be closed from 1st October to 20th November. A bit of googling revealed that these were hides created by local huntsmen for the brief wood pigeon shooting season. One notice said, “Stop! Whistle!”, so I did, rather tentatively – but no one was there!

By 12.30 I was walking into Bazas, a cathedral town that lost its diocese at the revolution. It is about the same size as Southwell, and the Cathedral looked over a very charming town square, with shops and cafes tucked away in deep recessed arches under the buildings, a bit like Chester.

Mercifully, Bazas, rather like Southwell, is far enough from other places to have maintained its own commercial life, and the Cafe Saint Jean was full of people having lunch.

Though I wasn’t really hungry, I had lunch there, and very good it was too, on the ‘you never know when’ principle, which kicks in when you are entirely reliant upon Shanks’s pony.

The rest of the day has been a bit bizarre. I was having one or two health concerns, which got worse today, and having left one key bit of medical kit at home I was rather in the dark as to what might be happening. Medical assistance via the local pharmacists and doctors was not forthcoming, so in a call with Laurence he urged me to get to a hospital.

I was going to be staying with a local pilgrim host, and Gilbert (for such is his name) kindly took me to the local hospital at Langon. They are running some tests on me, and I am sure that nothing significant is the matter and I should be out tonight. But weird symptoms when you are walking alone are best attended to, lest things take a turn for the worse.

Now the doctor has been, and is not completely happy with all the results so they are going to keep me in overnight. How things are in the morning will help make a physician-guided decision about continuing or not.

I hesitated before writing any of this. I don’t want people worrying; I’m quite sure all basics are fine. And I’m being very well looked after, with my own room to sleep in. We’ll see what tomorrow brings.

A peaceful night to you all!