Conques to Decazeville

I had brekkie, as the Aussies say with  Jo. This was her last day on the same trail.  I will miss her.  She is off to take a cooking class on some Island.  Then she is going to walk in Switzerland or maybe come back and walk ten more days on this Camino but she will be behind me. It was not raining when I left but about five minutes later it started and never stopped.

Some beautiful sights in this magical village.  I have heard the saying that a picture is worth a thousand words but in this case, I would need a thousand words to describe this village.  And it still wouldn't do it justice.  And my photos don't do it justice either.

Just heading out of Conques.

Today was cold, wet, and rainy with northern winds freezing my face like a bad facelift.  The first hour of this hike was brutal--buns-of-steel, thigh-master  OMG hard.  It was the steepest up that I have seen in a while but at least there was no mud to speak of. About half-way up (pant pant) I came across this beautiful little chapel.

When I got inside, the two American girls, Jen and Maria were also in the chapel, freezing as well. Jen is from Orlando and Maria is from Charlotte or vice versa. 

I said my prayers and one of the girls told me to ring the bell when I left.  There was a pull cord that was hanging by the door and it took both hands and a hefty jerk but what a delightful sound!

The back of the church from higher up.

Viva la French!  I have seen numerous very clean toilets out in the middle of no-where.  What a blessing for us girls.  I didn't use it because I was so cold I couldn't imagine taking off any of my layers.

I had the wonderful sound of babbling water for part of the walk. It is such a peaceful sound.

After I thankfully reached the top, I walked across Alp-like pastures for several miles.  At least it wasn't kill-me up. But I was even colder walking across rolling hills at the top of the mountain.  There was nothing to break the wind. At least when you are going up, it warms you up.  My hands were cold the whole time.  I had on gloves and rain gloves over the regular gloves.

More beautiful scenery looking out over the distant mountains.

And yet another chapel and a chance to get out of the winds.  You can see the trail marker on the tree.  The one I am following, the GR 65 is the red and white one.  This particular marking is telling me to turn left.

Saint James, the patron saint of the Caminos.

Such modern windows for a very old chapel.

France may have the best stained-glass windows in any country.

Even the cows looked cold.

Beautiful Vistas!

I got to my hotel by some divine intervention, prayers, or something besides my own abilities. Somewhere I missed a turn and ended up beside the highway not sure which way to go.  I randomly picked right, having second thoughts with every step for the next mile or so.  There is no longer mile (besides severe up) than when you are lost. By this time I was soaked through to my skin. Every layer was dripping wet down to my unmentionables. Then I saw a sign that indicated I was leaving Decazeville, my destination.  I had that sinking feeling that I had gone a long way in the wrong way but I saw a Peugeot dealership and went in. I thought about buying a Peugeot to get me to my destination but my credit card has Volkswagen limits.  Lucky enough the salesman spoke a little English and was able to give me directions.  I wasn't far from my hotel and my hike was supposed to be 12 miles and it was 12 exactly. Maybe I was teleported?  I was sure I had gone way out of the way...a disaster on foot. I couldn't wait to get upstairs to a hot shower and some dry clothes.  It was the most luxurious feeling in the world to be in dry clothes.  I put my feet on the heater until I was toasty warm. The everyday blessings we don't appreciate until they are missing.

I walked around the little town before dinner.  Not as impressive as the last medieval mountain top village.  For dinner (included meal) I dined at Wilson's Restaurant and Pizzeria.  What is not to like about pizza? Plus I now have something for lunch tomorrow on the trail--the rest of my pizza. 

So, in spite of my whining there is nothing that gives me more joy than being on the trail.  Neither rain nor snow nor cold or hot, lost or not, nothing gives me more pleasure than walking a new trail.  So Buen Camino to you on whatever journey you take!