Jour 15 - Moissac to Paris

Since my train wasn't until two in the afternoon, I had plenty of time to explore the city.  I walked down to the waterfront in the morning mists, past the market stalls that were starting to open in the town square, and continued on to the riverfront where an agricultural fair was being set up for the weekend.

I sat by the Tarn river and relaxed, taking in my surroundings.  My first impression of Moissac hadn't been the best one--it was much grittier certainly than St. Cirq Lapopie or Conques, which were tourist havens.  Here, though, by the waterfront, it was quiet and peaceful. Moissac was a little like Cahors--a real town with a market in the town square on Saturdays, and a Chasselas festival along the banks of the river this weekend. It was lovely just sitting there on that bench listening to the noises of a new day beginning--farmers setting up stalls, an occasional bicyclists whizzing by, a lone fisherman, his red jacket outlined against the fog, fishing silently. I had been struck by the jarring noise of a train yesterday as it passed by the cloister.  I learned later that the abbey had actually been split in two when the railroads originally arrived! That unexpected jolt of the train rattling by had been for me a startling reminder of the bustle of modern life juxtaposed on that of the quiet meditation and other worldliness of the abbey.

I mused on the impact of the industrial revolution on such a pastoral country as France, of Great Britain and the United States. So many villages abandoned here, so many lives changed and people displaced looking for a new way to make a living, so many churches fallen into disuse and disrepair. I suppose times change for better or for worse.  A door closes, a window opens elsewhere.  I am just glad I got to experience even such small moments of beauty and insight through this extraordinary trail.

Would I continue walking this route next year?  I had been walking with a limp now for several days as my fractured fifth metatarsal of five years ago was really bothering me.  I understand that bones in the feet don't heal really well because of the lack of blood flow.  I'd likely have to see a podiatrist when I returned to the U.S. in 10 days if the pain and slight swelling didn't subside by then. . . Well only time will tell. . .

detail of one of the capitals--all are unique with biblical scenes and stylized vegetation

the cloister

the abbey church from the small restaurant where I enjoyed an afternoon beer

the railroad track splitting the abbey

the bridge leaving Moissac

celebrating the famous chasselas grape

boats by the canal

walking the streets of Moissac

a bakery advertising their bread--"celebrate Moissac"

the Saturday market

overlooking the city

the little square near the church where I had lunch (see the table to the left)

Leaving Moissac

(Psalm 138) 1 I give you thanks, O LORD, with my whole
heart; before the gods I sing your praise; 2 I bow down
toward your holy temple and give thanks to your name for
your steadfast love and your faithfulness; for you have
exalted your name and your word above everything. 3 On
the day I called, you answered me, you increased my
strength of soul…. 7 Though I walk in the midst of
trouble, you preserve me against the wrath of my enemies;
you stretch out your hand, and your right hand delivers
me. 8 The LORD will fulfill his purpose for me; your
steadfast love, O LORD, endures forever. Do not forsake
the work of your hands.

For those of you that would like to see the finished video [warts and all because I can't edit it once I upload it to YouTube], you can view it here.

Jour 14 - Durfort-Lacapelette to Moissac

 I had been totally exhausted the evening before from the previous day's long walk--partially because of the mud. I was the only "pilgrim" that night as a group of others had cancelled.  Solange, my hostess, was wonderful, though, and very chatty, and so it was difficult to leave.  I could have easily spent the entire morning there talking to her! The gîte was slightly off the trail, though, and she drew me a little map to help me avoid another few kilometers of walking through more farmyards and fields of muddy soil. One of the advantages of speaking the language, I suppose, benefiting from these little tips.

By now I was limping a good bit, a previous fracture of the fifth metatarsal in my foot bothering me, and causing plantar fasciitis as I walked awkwardly to compensate. I had seriously considered calling the "Transports Claudine", one of those services that transports baggage, and sometimes people, to their next destination. It turned out to be a beautiful day, however, and the walk was shorter than I anticipated given Solange's advice.

Just short of entering the outskirts of Moissac, I ran into another French "pilgrim"--this one sporting a cowboy hat and a huge white bandage on his right thumb.  He had gotten his thumb pierced by an acacia tree and was headed for the hospital in Moissac, walking at quite a clip.  He tried his English on he, which was pretty terrible, and we continued our conversation in French.  I left him just before the footbridge (below) as he went to ask for directions to the hospital. 

When I finally reached the historic portion of the town, I went straight to the Abbey church and took a few pictures of the tympanum. The cloister would have to wait until later as it involved buying tickets at the tourist office. My gîte, a former Carmelite monastery was not far away and was huge, with room for 90 of us.  Fortunately the rooms were small, and mine had space for three.  I shared it with a young woman from Belgium.

The abbey, started in the mid-7th century, came under the rule of the influential Cluny Abbey during the 11th and 12th centuries. The 12th century monk Aymeric Picaud, mentioned it as one of the stopping places in the  Codex Calixtinus, an illuminated manuscript giving background information for pilgrims traveling the Way of St. James.

view of the countryside with the morning mists

apples

walking under the plane trees

more non-standard trail-markers

unfortunately this church was closed but I had a picnic lunch nearby

a small footbridge just a short distance from Moissac

Near the abbey church in Moissac

the tympanum on St. Peter's Abbey

the tympanum with better detail

public art outside an art gallery

my gîte, known as the "ancien Carmel" as it had once been a Carmelite monastery

 (Psalm 116) 13 I will lift up the cup of salvation and call on
the name of the LORD, 14 I will pay my vows to the LORD
in the presence of all his people. 15 Precious in the sight of
the LORD is the death of his faithful ones. 16 O LORD, I
am your servant; I am your servant, the child of your
serving girl. You have loosed my bonds. 17 I will offer to
you a thanksgiving sacrifice and call on the name of the
LORD. 18 I will pay my vows to the LORD in the presence
of all his people, 19 in the courts of the house of the LORD,
in your midst, O Jerusalem. Praise the LORD!

Jour 13 - Montlauzun to Lauzerte to Durfort-Lacapelette

As I mentioned, my gîte in Montauzun was owned by an English couple that had been in the business there since 2004.  They knew the area well, and the wife, Eileen, was very helpful giving me information on how navigate Lauzerte, a pretty medieval bastide town perched above the area known as the Quercy Blanc.  Like Montcuq, Lauzerte is considered one of the "Most Beautiful Villages of France", a distinction granted to some 150+ villages in the country. It was founded in the 12th century by the Count of Toulouse, the name being a combination of the gallic word for "flat paving or roofing stones" and the occitan word for "hill".  Before allowing me to leave, however, Eileen also made sure that I had birthday cake to fortify myself as two of her grandchildren, fraternal twins, a boy and a girl, had just celebrated their 6th birthdays.


Getting there, however, started to become somewhat challenging, as it started to drizzle lightly off and on. The fine rain was actually a relief,  as when the sun came out it was too hot.  Unfortunately, the rain created another unanticipated problem--mud. After the town of  Lauzerte, mud became a serious problem, and there were also many areas of the trail which were not well marked, especially when crossing farmer's fields. 

 If you click on the link here you can see the fantastic view from my gîte in Montlauzun. (You can also hear the grandchildren of the owners in the background).

leaving Montlauzun

serious mud

hard to walk with mud like this but difficult to clean off as well because 10 yards later there would be more

a

somehow the length and steepness of these steps doesn't come across in a photograph of 2 dimensions

more sunflowers

Lauzerte--the weird flip to the pavement on the left is intentional

whimsy

and more whimsy

and more--this is a corner of the main town square below

the main square in Lauzerte just before lunch

lunch in Lauzerte

a lovely little place to retire

back on the trail

a farewell to Lauzerte

a pigeon coop

the tiny little church of St. Sernin

the old church has been renovated in modern simplity

we are now in the region of the chasselas grape

 (Psalm 46) 1 God is our refuge and strength, a very present
help in trouble. 2 Therefore we will not fear, though the
earth should change, though the mountains shake in the
heart of the sea; 3 though its waters roar and foam, though
the mountains tremble with its tumult. 4 There is a river
whose streams make glad the city of God, the holy
habitation of the Most High. 5 God is in the midst of the
city; it shall not be moved; God will help it when the
morning dawns. 6 The nations are in an uproar, the
kingdoms totter; he utters his voice, the earth melts. 7 The
LORD of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge. 8
Come, behold the works of the LORD; see what
desolations he has brought on the earth. 9 He makes wars
cease to the end of the earth; he breaks the bow, and
shatters the spear; he burns the shields with fire. 10 "Be
still, and know that I am God! I am exalted among the
nations, I am exalted in the earth." 11 The LORD of hosts is
with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge.