Today was a gloriously sunny day, dominated by the majestic outline of the Pyrenees on the horizon. France and northern Spain have had one of the wettest Easters in memory, and that will no doubt have added to the snow on the high peaks. As you can see, even at 30 miles distance, they were a breath-taking sight.

Today’s walk was entirely on minor roads; comfortable, easy walking, if a bit hard on the feet. The flat landscape and the arrow-straight roads of the Landes are far behind. Here, on the edge of Basque country, it was all up hill and down dale, with delightful twists and turns.

Today wasn’t a long walk, only 13 kms. I left Hagetmau at 08.15. A long pull uphill led me out onto the plateau where I took that first photo. It gave me such a sense of exhilaration to see the mountains that I must have stepped out with a will, for I got to my destination in less than three hours, including a fifteen minute break.

On the way I was greeted by some dogs that came running out, barking wildly. Most French people are well aware of whether their dogs need fencing in or chaining, so I wasn’t concerned. I also understand the need for guard dogs in a fairly remote countryside, where farms may be kilometers apart from their neighbours. But these two didn’t just make their presence felt and then retreat – they decided to accompany me.

One looked like an English Setter, and the other I took for a Pyrenean Mountain dog.  We walked together for 500 metres or so, when the setter’s owner, came down the road and called “Louis” home. But the big hairy one came on with me for a good mile or so, quite unconcerned; trotting ahead and then turning round as if to say “Come on, catch up”.

It was only when the road turned and went over a river that he held back, turned round and anbled off.

I have noticed that in this corner of France there are more wayside shrines than further north; plain crosses, crucifixes, statues of Our Lady in various guises (with child, without child, Maris Stella etc), and others. Here’s one of the others.

I took it to be Saint Michael subduing a fallen angel, maybe Satan? Others may know better. I tend to stop and say a brief prayer for the place and the people when I pass these shrines. In some of France they can look rather forlorn, but round here the high level of upkeep and planting of flowers around them speaks of local pride and care at least. 

Rural churches are grouped into larger parishes often based on small towns. This was the church and presbytery at Argelos. The presbytery is one no longer, of course – think ‘The Old Rectory’ more like. But, like very many rural churches, it was open and clean, and there were up to date notices and information about things going on in the larger parish. Yet on looking at the lists for April and May there was only one Saturday evening mass in these two months, and one Thursday evening mass in April, and one in May. With the best will in the world, it is hard to sustain a worshipping community in that place on so little. The irony of this was that the central parish church in Hagetmau, a busy small town, was locked up when we were there yesterday. The rural satellites do a better job of welcome!

Turning town name signs upside down is a protest I have seen before (at Saint Aster, as I recall). There, it was a pro-Occitan protest, here, I imagine, a pro-Basque one. What amused me was the neighbourhood watch notice underneath – they weren’t doing much of a job in this case!

Beyries is a tiny village, but the commune has decided to give over it’s parish hall to make a gite d’etape for pilgrims from April to September.

As is usual in these places, they give you a disposable paper sheet and pillow case (less dreadful than they sound), and have heavy blankets to supplement your sleeping bag. The showers are hot (excellent French plumbing), and here, where they ask for a pilgrim donation, they use it to give us the best stocked kitchen I have ever seen in such a pilgrim refuge.

All there to help pilgrims have a good meal. Tonight we had asparagus soup, omelettes with onion, lardons and cheese, a cheese course of a very smelly camembert, a little mousses to end with. And beer and wine. A feast! In places which don’t provide cooking, and where there are no shops, this makes a huge difference. Carrying enough food can add significantly to the weight of your rucksack, especially if you are not sure what you are going to find at the end of the day. 10/10 to Beyries.

Tomorrow, I have a 16 km or so walk to Orthez. The weather is supposed to be like today. So, sunscreen and hat. And the Pyrenees getting ever closer. When I get there, I will look for a stamp for my pilgrim passport and then head by train to Bayonne where I will rest my still complaining feet before heading home on Friday. I’ll bid you goodnight with view of the mountains in the evening sun – it is the view from outside our gite.