Le Bouchet-Saint-Nicolas - Pradelles - 25,216 Steps

 

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.

Le Monastier - Bouchet-St-Nicolas - 30,830 Steps

 

Before we left on this trip, Felicity had to decide if it was OK for us to occasionally share room when called for due to lack of space.  Her main worry was whether I snored or not, nothing to do with 19th century modesty. I told her to ask Fianna, and she was reassured, but I should have mentioned that Fianna sleeps with ear-plugs, so even if I snored like a warthog she wouldn't hear a thing.  So this morning, I asked Felicity how did it go on the snoring front?  She told I did snore a bit, but it was from 6 AM, but she was already awake, so no problem. I may not have mentioned that Felicity is Canadian, so I interpreted this to mean that I started snoring as soon as my head hit the pillow and didn't stop until I woke up.  Thankfully for Felicity in tonight's B&B we have separate rooms.

The morning walk was mainly fields, and we still escaped the rain that has been promised for quite a few days.  Arriving in the small village of Ussel we decided to stop in the one open restaurant for our lunch.  The restaurant was full of locals, eating four course traditional French meals (the options included Tête-de veau, Andouillettes and Tripes) with accompanying Beaujolais of course.  We ordered just the starter which consisted of salad, charcuteries and cheese with water and were hard pushed to finish our plates. After lunch, we set off for our 2-hour hike to Bouchet-St-Nicolas.

*** AP - NEWS FLASH ***

MAJOR DIPLOMATIC INCIDENT BETWEEN FRANCE AND CANADA AVERTED BY PROFESSIONAL NEGOTIATOR

From our correspondent in Bouchet-St-Nicolas : Today at 3:02 PM Ms F., a young(ish) Canadian hiker on the Stevenson Trail, wrote to her hostel to say she would be arriving around 4 PM and to confirm that there was a jacuzzi in her room as she was looking forward to having a relaxing bath.  She got an immediate response : NON!. Ms F. was extremely surprised as there was a jacuzzi in the pictures, and she had booked this room very specifically for the bath.  Texted exchanges became heated, which progressed to angry telephone calls, and it looked like a Franco-Canadian tourist war was about to be added to the general transatlantic tension we are witnessing today. Luckily, Mr F., no relation, a certified negotiator, happened to be hiking the trail at the same time.  After clarifying each parties' positions and thanks to some intricate negotiating, Mr F. was able to bring about an amicable settlement.  The jacuzzi was not in the bedroom, but Ms F. could have full access between the hours of 4PM and 10PM.  It is nice to see in these troubled times that diplomatic solutions can still avert major crises between nations.

We arrived in Bouchet-St-Nicolas around 4PM, and Felicity had a nice long bath while I had a nap in my bedroom, to recover from a tough day.

Le Puy-en-Velais - Le Monastier : 27,623 Steps

 

This morning, Felicity and I decided to got to the 7AM Mass that is held for the Pilgrims every morning in Le Puy-en-Velais 1000-year-old Cathedral (I'll let you guess whose idea this was).  As it happens, this was the first (and probably the last) Mass I attended.  I have no regrets, especially as the Cathedral is on top of a hill which means that at the end of the Mass, the floor of the Cathedral actually opens up and all the pilgrims (plus us 2 fake pilgrims) exit through the opening, down some steps, and on to the Chemin de Compostelle. After this spiritual experience, we went back to our B&B and had a hearty breakfast before setting off on our first stage.

Having started with Religion, Felicity decided to demonstrate that despite all of Trump's efforts, we can still count on science to explain our world.  Yesterday, in the train, I had told Felicity (with whom I have not walked before) that although my walking downhill and on flats is at normal speed, I have slowed down considerably when going up hill, and therefore she shouldn't hesitate to walk on ahead. She reassured me, telling me that she was a slow walker herself.  Thus, you can imagine my surprise, when as soon as we reached the first steep slope, Felicity shot off like the proverbial hare while I continued my imitation of a rather tired tortoise.  Albert Einstein was right, everything is relative : slow for one person isn't the same slow for another person.

I did occasionally catch-up with Felicity (or she let me think I did) and so we proceeded through sunny farmlands, rolling hills and occasional forests.  The walk was really pleasant with sunshine to keep us warm but some wind to cool us down.  Around midday, we stopped and bought ourselves a picnic which for me consisted of a chicken sandwich, a tomato, some crisps and a saucisson (sorry Mum).  Despite the occasional hill, we made good time, arriving in Le Monastier by 2:30PM. Our B&B, named File dans ta chambre, is a charming little house inside the village, in which we are sharing a room which has 2 single beds and a small sunny balcony. 

After a few hours rest, we thought we would try the local beer (which had been recommended by our host in Le-Puy). The beer is called Modestine, after the name of Stevenson's Donkey.  Sadly, after interrogating several natives we came to the conclusion that only one bar was still open in Le Monastier, and it does not serve Modestine beer!  To drown our disappointment, Felicity and I had two glasses of white wine and two beers. This set us back €6.80!  Yes, you read that right.  If this is a reflection of the cost of living in Le Monastier I'm thinking I could move here and retire right now...I'm just not sure how I will sell this to Fianna!

Paris to Puy-en-Velay

 

146 year ago Robert Louis Stevenson, the author of Treasure Island and Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, wrote a travel book called Travels with a Donkey in the Cévennes (my Gen Z readers can ask their parents what a book is).  The book is the story of his 228km walk from Le Monastier to St-Jean-du-Gard, and I will be blogging my way through the same walk over the next 10 days (full disclosure, due to professional commitments I will only be doing 192km as I will need to leave before the last 2 stages).

Before I delight you with stories of the quaint French countryside, you may reasonably ask how this came about.  My wife Fianna - yes I know all of you are aware Fianna is my wife, but maybe this blog will become a social media success therefore requiring more context for my readers.  Anyway, as I was saying, my wife Fianna has a friend called Felicity who in early April decided to do Stevenson's walk and invited 5 of her girlfriend's including Fianna to come along.  They all sensibly pleaded other engagements, but Fianna, spotting an opportunity for 2 weeks of peace and quiet, volunteered me to go in her place.  I'm not sure that Felicity is getting the best end of this deal, but she has now adjusted her plan to walking with one overweight Frenchman rather than five chatty women.

Having spent a day booking train tickets and accommodation, I then had to prepare for the trip.  Back in 1879 Stevenson spent 1 month in Le Monastier acquiring the perfect donkey, inventing a sleeping bag and choosing travel necessities (including 1 revolver, 1 bottle of Beaujolais, 1 tin of Bologna sausage and 1 eggbeater!). For my part, none of these items seemed essential and living in the 21st century, my choices were slightly different (1 laptop for work, 1 wireless mouse for laptop, 1 smartphone, 1 kindle, 1 smartwatch, 1 charger). I did leave behind my tablet, my camera and my wireless headphones, thus demonstrating my capacity to disconnect.

This morning, having been informed (by my smartphone) to expect rain in the Cévennes I left the house early to buy a rain hat and proceed to the Gare de Lyon.  Getting there with plenty of time to spare, I headed towards the waiting hall benches to sit down.  Having spotted a seat and put down my 8.5kg backpack, I noticed a small backpack seemingly forgotten next to me.  I asked around, and nobody claimed ownership.  At this point, a young woman sitting on the other side of me said she would take it to an attendant and walked off with it.  A few minutes later, an elderly lady appeared with her 2 grandchildren (I'm guessing here, in case a reader was wondering if this was fact-checked), and asked where grandchild's backpack had gone.  I told her a young woman had just left with it to find an attendant, but I could see the grandmother was not impressed with my explanation.  I tried to reassure her, saying the young woman had seemed very nice and helpful, but to no avail.  She left with the two children in tow, heading towards the platforms. Two minutes later, the young woman reappeared with the backpack, having failed to find an attendant.  By this time the grandmother had disappeared, and I was beginning to think I was stuck in some kind of time warp where the grandmother, the young woman, and the backpack could never be in the same place at the same time.  Luckily, I spotted the grandmother about to go through the ticket gates and I dashed after her shouting "Madame, Madame".  I caught up with her just in time, and the young boy was reunited with his backpack. Thus, a major catastrophe was avoided, well ...Ok... a minor inconvenience.  The moral of this story is that people will go out of their way to help others, or if you listen to my wife : Don't forget your stuff!

A 3-hour TGV ride brings us to Saint-Étienne and then a slow regional train takes us along the Loire river through wooded hills, old farmhouse and occasional monasteries to our starting point of the Pay-en-Velay a charming small town set-on a hilly outcrop.  We dropped off our stuff at the guest house and then Felicity being a keen photographer she proceeded to drag me to the main sites of the town (a most interesting activity even though everything was closed as it was past 7pm)

Well, that's it for this first post. Don't hesitate to post your comments, they will be blithely ignored.