It was a lovely bright clear day as we set out of town on a straight flat road.
We soon got ourselves up to speed and although there were permitted deviations on local tracks we kept to the road until we reached our bGR65 footpath at Mas de Vers as it crossed the road. The enjoyable walking then carried on, generally flat, often shaded and comfortable underfoot. We continued on green lanes alternating with sandy tracks with stone walls and the scruffy oak vegetation of recent days as we passed encouraging distance markers at regular intervals.We came to the N20 Autoroute which we crossed in a welter of hot tarmac and various slip roads. We then paused in the shade for a drink before tackling a very hot uphill climb on a stony path. We passed a white pickup truck with two furtive characters taking stones from the ancient track walls for their own purposes. They stopped as we passed but then moved on to the next good spot. No doubt such recycling has often taken place.
Further climbing took us eventually to the village football pitch outside Flaujac-Poujols.
At the clubhouse some friendly local ladies had organized 'refreshments for pilgrims': tables and chairs, cold drinks, water, loos etc. 'Pay as you wish'. Visitors book to which we added our thanks. While we sat in the shade we were regaled with the details from a young lady paying a Sunday visit to her mother to tell her of her recent trip to Carlow in Ireland. After Flaujac-Poujols Carlow was quite a town. We were joined by the Swiss party - water bowls were available for their dogs. They will be staying in the same hotel as us tonight which will be a blessed relief for them as they had an even less pleasant caravan last night.We pressed on and our next stop was for lunch by the roadside by a small hamlet or suburb of Cahors on the D6 road. We had some nice duck rillettes for a change. By now, it being our last day, we were all quite keen to get to our destination. Our path took us 3 or 4 miles along a dry plateau amid scruffy vegetation in considerable heat. The guide books talk of any rainfall vanishing into the rock to reappear at a natural fountain in Cahors.
We descended gently from the TV booster masts and became quite excited as Cahors opened up between two headlands. A long avenue of green trees divides the lozenge of the city in two - the old city to the right and the new and uglier one to the left. The famous (and much restored) towered bridge is clearly visible from afar. Although the GR65 doesn't actually enter Cahors the Route St Jacques takes you in briefly to enable you to visit the cathedral and exit via the old bridge.We duly found our way to our hotel (Chartreuse***) on the outskirts. It was modern and looked good but we arrived at 2.30 in the course of Sunday lunch service, and Mother's Day at that, so there was nobody prepared to serve 4 smelly walkers a beer. We persevered and sat on the terrace overlooking the river and eventually were served. Our rooms were large, comfortable and smartly furnished. After unpacking and showering we went for a stroll. This was a bit overambitious and we were too hot in the urban sunshine so our explorations were desultory. After exploring the Cathedral, much restored and altered at regular intervals, we had cold drink in the Place Francioise Mitterand and met the French Canadian couple again with a friendly chat.
We inspected the famous bridge and photographed the devil on the tower.
We took the path on the far bank back to the hotel and on the way passed the ancient Roman La Fontaine de Chartreaux. When these fountains were renovated in 18c as part of the town water supply they found many Roman coins. The big pools are impressive and you can see the spring water rippling on the surface. This is the water that has percolated down from the heights we walked over.We had our creanciales stamped at the pilgrim-welcoming kiosk on the modern bridge entering the town and got in conversation with an old man who spoke good English. He had lived briefly in Wimbledon in the mid-fifties spending much of his time at debutante balls in a hired Moss Bros DJ. When i suggested he must have felt he had woken up in Heaven he responded with a twinkle that his behaviour was more likely to merit Hell.
Supper at the hotel was good - thick slices of smoked salmon with crevettes, nice lamb (or duck) and a good choice of cheeses. Fresh strawberries or 'Omalette Norvegienne' (Baked Alaska). Des insisted on treating us to an end of walk bottle of Champagne. After a few hands of cards we were well ready for bed.
