We left F. at 8.10 and arrived at C. at 16.45. So it was a long hard day! We set off in good spirits after a nice breakfast and group photo, including knees - and reflection!
Met a Swiss woman who possibly considered herself to resemble Joan Collins and who was pleased to tell us she was with a group walking from Fribourg in Switzerland to Santiago. She felt however, and despite the nice day this made me a bit irritated, that they would ignore the Spanish section if it was 'too dull'.
We passed the big Memorial overlooking the town, to the 500 'deportees' of May 1944. Listed are the names of the 145 who did not return.
It was a pleasant morning for walking - along the flat to an obelisk marking the remains of an 8c Benedictine abbey. We were in prosperous countryside for much of the day with restored decorative round stone buildings in the grounds of good houses. By 10.30 we were in the little high village of Faycells where to the gentle background of a 70s Compilation we stopped for coffee and a wee. We were joined by the "3 men and pantoufle": still full of bounce.
Plenty of variety in conditions underfoot today from sandy to stony to tarred track to turf track to good road. The girls understandably were more than irritated at one stage when a good hours walking produced a minimal reduction in k's still to go according to the patently unreliable signage. There were little touches of comfortable living including a beautiful rose-covered bus shelter. The stone walls were often built to a high standard and there was obviously over the years enough money to go into house-building with a sense of fun.
The route into Cajarc for whatever commendable reason takes you away from the main road, and the traffic, down a bosky path which in places is too narrow and indeed if you are tired, dangerous. Clare had by now adopted sandals to ease her feet. But at least this way the town proudly shows you some excellent vegetable gardens.
Our hotel (du Pont) was, sure enough, by the suspension bridge over the Lot. There was nobody around other than a note of our room numbers to install ourselves. While the girls rested Des and I explored the town which is a medieval lozenge shape and beautifully aged in the middle with old houses and narrow alleys. We visited the church where somehow or other we got talking to an intense local intellectual who pressed on me a copy of his philosophical text. I will try to understand a little more of it at my leisure.
When we got back to the girls they were in great excitement as they had been visited by some bikers who had been seeking a room (their room) and had also had to be 'locked in' for a beer in the dining room. That seemed like a good idea so we all went out for another beer as we waited for supper: magnificent - bread and vegetable soup in good chicken stock, slices of tender/flavoursome lamb, cheese (but we all except Des declined: sinking fast after a long day and those beers) and an excellent lemon tart.
Then to bed for 10 hours!
