Jour 12 - Lascabanes to Montlauzun

There at the Monastery of Nôtre-Dame I had my own room, and dear Marie-Therèse, the volunteer working there, not only picked me up in Lascabanes, but dropped me off the next morning only a few kilometers from Montcuq where I took my morning coffee  break and bought a sandwich for lunch. She even stopped by the café where I was sitting to make sure I headed in the right direction afterward. Montcuq was a genuine little town with a couple of churches, restaurants, bakeries, a post office and a library, actually registered as one of France's "most beautiful villages" and I took a few photos.

Leaving Montcuq, I had only a short distance to go to my destination of Montlauzun. I walked past acres of lovely countryside, the little church of Rouillac wlth its medieval frescoes. I was joined by a French couple from Angers that I had first met in Figeac, and we had a picnic lunch together at some tables outside the Mayor's office, which was open twice a week. We were joined by a stray cat that had followed the couple for some distance.

The gîte owners at Montlauzun were English, having opened their gîte in 2004. There was a fantastic view from the veranda and I took a short video clip as they could watch potential pilgrims arriving from afar. If you click on the link here you can have a look. Another French couple joined me later on, and we were the only guests that evening. Again I had my own room.

My private room at the monastery

the Monastère Notre-Dame in Escayrac

Marie-Thèrese, the wonderful volunteer from Toulouse who picked me up in her car to take me to the monastery

an encouraging sign

in Montcuq, a good sized-town

the library in Montcuq (which was closed to the public the day I was there)

church in Montcuq

It is always good to know how far you have to walk

and always good to have a place to rest when you need it

here the trail (the GR65) turns to the left

and always nice to have refreshment along the way that you don't have to carry in your backpack

The church in Rouillac

frescoes inside the church

looks like at least one of these sheep is only half-shorn

Montlauzan

A French couple from Angers that I ran into frequently (the woman is holding the cat that kept following them)

my gîte in Montlauzun

I had originally started in Le Puy (my last trip) when the distance was 1522 kilometres--it was actually a little longer for me since I was walking via the Célé Valley

Psalm 125) 1 Those who trust in the LORD are like Mount
Zion, which cannot be moved, but abides forever. 2 As the
mountains surround Jerusalem, so the LORD surrounds
his people, from this time on and forevermore.

Jour 11 - Cahors to Lascabanes

Leaving Cahors was an absolute horror.  Once crossing the bridge leaving the city, there is a steep climb up winding stone steps with a rise of a foot or more to take your breath away.  Not only was  there no guard rail or hand rail, which was terrifying enough, but I had slight vertigo the higher I ascended, and had to concentrate on walking one step at a time, looking only directly in front of me. It was over some 100 yards later, but was a scary experience to say the least.  I didn't learn until later that the Cicerone guide actually suggested an alternative route.

It was a long walk afterwards, and I stopped at the little pilgrim-friendly town of Labastide-Marnhac, with a grocery store, public restrooms, a fountain and a restaurant--things that mean a lot to long-distance walkers like me.  I shared lunch with three charming French women there.

The final trek was punctuated in the beginning by renewed encounters with some I had met along the route--a middle-aged Swiss couple, a young Canadian woman, a younger Swiss couple who had actually started their walk in Geneva, and a French couple from Angers that I had stayed with at Noailhac and Espeyrac.  A number of them were staying at the same gîte in Lascabanes.  I was actually staying at a Dominican monastery in Escayrac, so I was having second thoughts.  On the verge of changing my reservation, as it meant another 5 kilometers of walking, I telephoned to cancel, but a volunteer there offered to pick me up in her car and drive me to the monastery instead.  Small things can mean a lot!

Cahors

the Louis-Philippe near my gîte

The beautiful Valentré bridge leaving Cahors

crossing the bridge

a view of the city of Cahors after mounting the terrible stairs

some people actually use them to transport baggage

I  rested here one the grounds of this church--it looks like others had, too

a gîte along the way, just before a rather treacherous descent

a wayside cross--one of hundreds

a deserted chapel

a reassuring trail-marker

three lovely ladies that shared some of their lunch with me

an army of sunflowers

a little shrine en route

the promise of cold drinks ahead

At the monastery of Notre-Dame in Espeyrac

(Psalm 51) 1 Have mercy on me, O God, according to your
steadfast love; according to your abundant mercy blot out
my transgressions. 2 Wash me thoroughly from my
iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin. 3 For I know my
transgressions, and my sin is ever before me. 4 Against
you, you alone, have I sinned, and done what is evil in
your sight, so that you are justified in your sentence and
blameless when you pass judgment…. 9 Hide your face
from my sins, and blot out all my iniquities. 10 Create in
me a clean heart, O God, and put a new and right spirit
within me. 11 Do not cast me away from your presence,
and do not take your holy spirit from me. 12 Restore to me
the joy of your salvation, and sustain in me a willing
spirit…. 15 O Lord, open my lips, and my mouth will
declare your praise. 16 For you have no delight in sacrifice;
if I were to give a burnt offering, you would not be
pleased. 17 The sacrifice acceptable to God is a broken
spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not
despise. 18 Do good to Zion in your good pleasure; rebuild
the walls of Jerusalem.

Jour 10 - Pasturat to Cahors

 The gîte at Pasturat had been a lot of fun with a dozen of us around the dinner table, most from different regions of France--Brittany, Normandy, Montauban, the Loire Valley, one displaced Canadian living in Brittany, a young Swiss couple, and me. Those sitting closest to me were a forester and his wife, and a couple of dairy farmers, and the conversation included a discussion of organic farming, apiculture, and why there were so many pine trees fallen along the path (not native to the area)--you get the picture.  I was out of my element.  I did, however, learn from the 3 people with whom I shared a room that I could shorten the route by skipping the town of Bears and taking the highway directly to Mazuts.  As I mentioned, I took a photograph of a topographical map that one person had and it came in handy the following day in the morning drizzle.  As I understood it, Bears was chiefly interesting for a panoramic view, not too enticing in the rain, and getting there and back would be rocky and hilly. An easy decision.

Otherwise, the walk to Cahors seemed interminable, and, as the signage giving the mileage for the road and pilgrim path differed, it was frustrating trying to estimate when I would arrive. Not only that, the trail had apparently been slightly re-routed and after walking, say, 2 kilometers, the signs might indicate that you hadn't walked at all!  Now THAT was discouraging!

When I finally reached Cahors, the relatively large city felt somewhat intimidating at first, as I didn't have a map, but I managed to find the correct bridge without difficulty, and was only a stone's throw from my destination when I called the gîte owner for directions.  I was literally less than 100 feet away and he came and got me, walking me to the nearest ATM when he heard my complaint about the one in St. Cirq Lapopie being out-of-order.

Cahors, of course, is known for that fantastic dark, pungent red wine using the malbec grape, now very popular in the US.  During the middle ages it was exported via Bordeaux and known as the "black wine".  The city itself apparently dates back to Roman times with some vestiges of that period still visible, and Cahors has had vineyards since then.

wayside cross

a portion of the topographical map ensuring that I connected correctly to the trail at les Mazuts

Approaching Cahors from the Célé Valley there is a choice of two routes--I took the towpath. The alternative was longer, had more ups and downs, and entered the city via the Mont-Saint-Cyr.  At a juncture where I had to make a decision as to which route to take, two French couples described my alternatives, and the choice was a no-brainer.

respect our free-range chickens and keep your dogs on-leash

along the lot river approaching Cahors

little victory gardens along the way

a tiny ornamental cazelle on a fence post

approaching Cahors

A jokester posted this near my gîte--"here on April 17, 1891 absolutely nothing took place"

clever mechanical clock not far from my gîte

old houses in Cahors

dinner at the little restaurant "Chez Jackie" in Cahors.  I had, of course, a glass of the local "black" wine

unfortunately this church was closed

 Psalm 133) 1 How very good and pleasant it is when
kindred live together in unity! 2 It is like the precious oil on
the head, running down upon the beard, on the beard of
Aaron, running down over the collar of his robes. 3 It is
like the dew of Hermon, which falls on the mountains of
Zion. For there the LORD ordained his blessing, life
forevermore.