I woke early, got up, showered, packed, had a small breakfast and was out and on the road by 07.45. I think I was both itching to get walking again, but also somewhat apprehensive about how my feet would hold up. Mont de Marsan to Saint Sever is theoretically 22 kms on paper, but actual distances walked often increase by two or three kilometers. There is getting lost and back tracking create a different route in case of flooding or extreme muddiness. This time the derailing factor was that the path sent one through a field with knee high grass – after all this rain a recipe for sodden feet and trousers.

In fact it was a lovely day’s walk, along woodland paths, green lanes, and minor country roads. After the flatness of the northern Landes, the landscape is getting bendier with changes of height, and unexpected twists and turns.  It was overcast all morning, with spits and spots of rain, and a temperature that rose from nine to twelve or thirteen degrees, and was ideal for walking.

I stopped for a snack about halfway, and shortly afterwards was overtaken by Olivier, a Belgian who had been staying the refuge the previous night. I encouraged him to go, and we agreed to meet up later.

About 12 noon the sun started to come out and the temperature rose. France on Sundays and Mondays is tricky for shopping, as most places are shut, even bars and restaurants. There is no culture of small 24/7 stores. We knew that the refuge we were heading for had no cooking laid on, so we needed to shop. We got to Intermarché ten minutes before it closed at 12.30! We walked the last two kilometres very content.

It was amazing to see flowers that we think of as very special, and certainly things we would cultivate, just growing wild in profusion on the edge of fields or in the hedgerows. The route went past churches (none of which were open) and crosses and shrines, including this one.

By 12.30 Olivier and I were crossing the Adour river – rather impressive in spate –

and walking up the steep pull into Saint Sever. We took a right turn, and this led us to the town’s jewel, the XIth century Abbey Church, dedicated to St Severus.

This has some magnificent carved capitals, though, comparing them with the naturalistic carving of Southwell a hundred year’s later, it brought home how rapidly decorative skills developed in the period. Here are some views of the church and the cloister next to it.

The refuge is in part of an old convent and is basic, but adequate. There are four of us, all men, who are here tonight. By the time we got here I was glad to stop, but a post-shower foot examination showed that all is well – for which I am hugely thankful.

The next three stages are all very modest totals, so should not present problems. They will bring me to Orthez in the Basque country by Wednesday night. I have decided to leave the Chemin de Vézelay at that point, and not continue to Saint Jean Pied-de-Port. This partly because I have run out of time because of the delay occasioned by my blisters, but also because, though I could go back and take up again from there in September, I don’t relish the rather gruelling ascent and descent to get over the Pyrenees at Roncevald. Instead, I have discovered a little used pilgrim route, the Camino del Baztán, which runs from Bayonne to Pamplona, where it joins the Camino Francés. Bayonne is a little further north than Orthez, so I don’t feel I am cheating, and the Camino del Batzán runs across foothills and down valleys, so is much less daunting. Anyway, that is the plan as it is at present! Good night!