pocket-full-of-seaglass

-St-Julien-Chaptueil-

I’ll be honest, last night wasn’t great. Picked an awful bench, had a streetlight in my eyes, couldn’t get comfortable, all the usual whines. I had planned to be up around 8.30am, to restock, but I had my boots on the way with the stars still in the sky.

It was dark, and fucking glacial. I shivered and shook my way out of town, treading the sides of the highway. I had taken a few wrong turns, but I’ll blame that on the lack of light. My first stop was Marnhac, six odd kilometres from my bench; there, I would eat. On the way, the sun would rise – I’d get the best views, I rationalised, trying to ignore the cold (I failed).

It was a wicked sunrise, and I got to watch all the stages. The first twinges of blue, covering up the stars, lighting up the ground as I split from the road back into rocky paths – no more missed trail markers :] The fog was thick on the ground, and every so often I could see the cows lumbering through. Eerie old beasts, but sweethearts. Then the bridge came into view, and the first houses.

Not of Marnhac, not yet – but of Tournecol. A small smattering of houses built into another staggering basalt mound, covered in pines and ash that began to catch the first real sunrays of the morning. It was so, so quiet. I stuck to pavement, tried to minimise crunching on the gravel as I walked past the sleeping town.

And then up, again, further into the pines, where the sunlight finally broke. So fucking pretty, my god I loved pine trees :] (in the light). As you make your way up, the eagles creak and soar over you, sending shadows flitting across your path. It’s warm, the sun on your back, but not hot, not yet. Maybe early morning starts are understandable. Maybe.

-Marnhac-

The top of the climb will find you overlooking Marnhac, and the surrounding villages, a mishmash of larger towns. St-Germain-Laprade to the left,,,,, other ones (??) to the right. The sun is up now, and it’s right about 8.00am. But there’s no benches yet, so we’ll press on. After a little more uphill downhill, you’ll find one, overlooking the valley below, and, in the not-so-far distance, Montjoie, the last hill to climb before Le Puy.

It’s a doozy this morning, baguette with pesto and the last few cherry tomatoes. Never gets old. I’m legally allowed to make that claim, haven eaten it for every meal bar two for the last eighteen days. And as I sit and eat, I watch two cool things happen. One; I watch two hot air balloons rise from different corners of the sky, and meet in the middle, and two; I watch the first kids get picked up by the bus.

It’s back to school time! It takes me a moment to process the lack of uniforms, and even longer to realise that shops might not have such insane opening hours any more. Let’s go. Perfect timing for the rest of my journey through France, which was, if I hadn’t mentioned it enough, starting so soon. Today I would finish the Via Gebennensis, tomorrow I would have a day to rest and restock, and on Saturday the Via Podiensis would begin. Exciting stuff :]

Anyway, pesto finished and tongue almost sliced open on the pocket knife, I moved on. A quick wander down some hilly farmland on gravel roads (nice) and a while of walking parallel to the highway (not as nice), and I was in St-Germain-Laprade. Broadly uneventful – though presumably only because it was so early – I refilled my bottle and carried on. I wanted to make it to Le Puy before the campsite reception inevitably closed for lunch.

By the way? The French have it nailed, the whole life thing. Wake up at 8.00am, do a job for three hours, disappear without a trace until 3.00pm, have a few hours before sunset, watch the sunset from your cool garden then vanish till 8.00am. It was incredible. Midday naps were common, and I regularly walked past people sleeping in the shade, hikers and locals alike. No one is allowed to let me move to France but man you can let me dream.

Anyway, it was only another 12.5km to go. 12.5km and my Via Gebennensis would be over. Crazy. Unfit and generally gross as I was, I’d have walked 350km in 18 days, even with two rest days. Stubbornness wins, sometimes <33

Past St-Germain-Laprade was Montjoie, the mountain. It was really starting to heat up now, and the climb inevitably sucked accordingly. But I was propelled with excitement, with the knowledge I’d have not one, but two nights inside. That’s right, I was splurging. Municipal campsites babey, living in luxury. Although, they supposedly had pilgrim rates, hot water and washing machines, so that, to me, made it essentially glamping.

From the top of Montjoie, you get the first views of Le Puy. So naturally, I took photos. Only, they aren’t of Le Puy. I was looking in the wrong direction. Go figure.

Anyway, down I went. I was counting down the places to go, places to pass. Next was Brives-Charansac, three odd kilometres from the top of the mountain. I passed it within ten minutes – a record. Then down, down, down, for another twenty, where I reached,,,, Brives-Charensac ??

-Brives-Charensac-

So turns out my little book didn’t give me the name of the little village I passed, so it must have been an outskirt. No matter – now I was here. I wandered down the road, saw a sign for camping 500m away, got re-confused (there was no camping in Brives-Charensac?), thought I was already in Le Puy, walked in a few circles, then clocked that my guidebook must just have missed it. Rightio.

I turned right on the main street, followed it past delectable shop after delectable shop. The smell of donor kebab has never once appealed to me in my life, but today it smelt like heaven. I was fiending. I needed a feed – but I needed a rest first. Over the old bridge, Pont des Chartreux, across the river. A few more wrong turns (I hated cities), and two kilometres alongside the water. I was getting close, really close. From Pont des Chartreux it was only 4km – I could make it. I wouldn’t rest till I arrived.

After another twenty minutes, I had made it almost 3km. I was so, so close and there, there were the yellow signs and I had made it!

-Pont des Chartreux-

To Pont des Chartreux. The other bridge was unrelated. Okay but now there were 4km left. I was taking a break.

Luckily for me, I seemed to not be the first to make the mistake; shaded benches lined the path. I took one beneath a lovely tree and ate my last cashews. I was officially out of everything, but with 4km left I didn’t mind. That was,, what? A little over an hour? I’d be fine. With that, I dozed.

After forty five minutes, I woke up sunburnt. Fuck. I also woke up to rustling, and a quick peek to my right confirmed my suspicions; my first snake :] He was a beautiful little thing, ashey gray with black zigzags, and he hurried quickly into the leaves. A European Adder, as I later found out. Lovely little guy.

Sitting up, a cyclist passing by laughed and gestured to my hair, which was suitably bed-headed. Pros and cons of benches, I guess. Tugged on my boots, steeled myself, and began the final stretch. Luckily for me, the first kilometre or two followed the river. Way more manageable than the few hundred metres of side-of-the-road walking that bought me beneath the Le Puy welcome sign but hey, I’ll take it.

-Le Puy-en-Velay-

Like other towns, I arrived in Le Puy a significant time before I arrived. Unlike other towns, Le Puy was massive. It took a while. But hey; I was back by the river. The Borne, this time, which kept me company as I traversed the most insanely long bike trail through the longest public park I’ve ever seen. Loads of shade though, which was quite lovely. I’d forgotten to put sunscreen on again, and my newly burnt skin was having a great time.

But still!! I was here!! I had made it!! Holy shit!! 350km down, all I had to do was get to the campsite without stopping and collapse in the shade and oh my god is that a Lidl??

-Lidl-

I spent a lot.

-Le Puy-en-Velay, Again-

Armed with cold juice and chocolate, bread and tomatoes and pesto and cheese and tuna and cucumber and ready to take the world, I emerged back into the sun. Ouch. Stopped, repacked everything, strapped the pain (French) to my rucksack. Never got less funny, that. Only the essentials; tent, mat, bread. Living the dream.

Got significantly lost (again), made my way almost fully to the big fancy cathedral before remembering the campsite was the other way and I only wanted to go into the churches when I had to, walked the wrong direction again, and eventually saw the campsite, arriving just in time for the French to vanish. Fuck me.

Shade it was. Shoes off, pack off, I revelled in the completion of my journey with some Comté that surely wouldn’t be disgusting now because I’d grown to love it so much and – ew ew ew ew nope nah. Either I was going insane, it was a bad brand, or the ten minute walk had somehow spoilt it already. Pros and cons of the heat. Not to worry, I had an entire tin of tuna to get through. I was going for variation today, and it was not going well. Lesson learnt : I’d stick with pesto.

Somehow, I got more weird looks eating a tin of tuna than I did the whole sleeping-on-benches thing. Oh well! Full and tired, I dozed till the French reappeared, checked in. €9.00 per night, yes please! Ready for relaxation, I walked to my pitch – directly next to a group of what seemed to be every American in France. All cycling. All grating (sorry I’m sure they’re lovely).

I set up camp, called my family. It was nice, and kept me conscious while I got myself organised. Eventually the internet collapsed when my newest pitch-mates arrived; a group of French bikies. Tonight was going to be fun. Then I slept, muggy heat pressing on my chest, familiar and summery.

When I woke, I wrote. I had promised myself a hot dinner to celebrate, but I was ignoring that – I’d eaten too much lunch, had no room anymore. I’d also downed a litre of juice because it was cold and delicious, but I’m sure that had nothing to do with it.

So I wrote and rambled and wrote, scribbling till the sun went down. I had grand plans, after all. Soon, I’d shower and sleep, but I’m leaving early tonight. An extra post in the works and all that; a busy blogger tonight. I sort of can’t believe I’ve remembered to write every day, this never happens. And I won’t let the jinxing win this time. Goodnight, and I’ll see you soon :]

---

Day 18 – September 7th

St-Julien-Chaptueil to Le Puy-en-Velay

18.4km

~ 363.7km total

€37.16

~€490.25 total