I think I'm getting contaminated by the Canadian politeness, this morning when Felicity asked me how I had slept I responded "Fine, I just woke up once at 2am" instead of saying "Terribly, I was aching all over and couldn't go back to sleep for hours". In case I hadn't made that clear, I'm still doing alternate day fasting during the walk, and today was a fasting day! So it was with a certain amount of envy that I then proceeded to stare, at the breakfast table which was overladen with local bread, homemade honey, local cheese, yogurt, orange juice and coffee. Why do I do this to myself, you may ask ... I have no idea would be my honest answer.
Back in 1879, during Stevenson's first two stages, his main activity was getting Modestine (his donkey, please keep up, I mentioned her in my second post) to move forward and at an acceptable pace. After trying different methods, he ended up with a goad, a sharp pointy stick with which he would poke Modestine's hind quarters. I think Felicity must have wished she had one of those when I was ambling up some of the hills today.
I must say that, as I laboured under my backpack today, I started revising my role in this re-enactment. Originally I saw myself as Robert Louis Stevenson, walking through the Cévennes and writing about my experience, but increasingly I am feeling in sympathy with Modestine. It is Felicity who has mapped out our journey and leads the way, like a 21st Century Stevenson, while I like Modestine wonder why I am walking 22 kms just to end up in a village which is not that different to the one I left in the morning.
