A Wild Domain

During the next few days I crossed the plateau of the Margeride and part of the ancient province of Gévaudan: a remote, hilly area of pine trees, green valleys, rough grazing land and sandy, stony tracks. The weather turned wet and windy for a while as I approached the Domaine du Sauvage, a former hôpital (pilgrim lodging) run by the Templars in the 13th century. It's still a gîte d'étape today, catering for weary walkers and pilgrims. I asked for a bed, but they were all booked; however I did order a coffee, and they had no objection to me eating my packed lunch at one of the restaurant tables. They're good like that, in the bars and restaurants of the Chemin...  

The Domaine du Sauvage.

Countryside near the Domaine du Sauvage (plus wild daffodils).

Soon after the Domaine I passed from the department of Haute-Loire into the department of Lozère and came across another Chapelle Saint-Roch. This present chapel was rebuilt in 1901 after being destroyed by a storm in 1897. I stepped inside and found a statue of St Roch above the altar. You can clearly see his trademark staff, thigh wound (a plague sore) and dog (who licked his wound and saved his life). You can read more about St Roch here — it's a fascinating story. (There are some similarities between St Roch and my favourite saint, St Francis of Assisi.) On these pilgrim routes the distinction between St Roch and St James can become intentionally blurred: note the scallop shells on hat and clothing...  

St Roch.

Fountain with scallop shell near the Chapelle Saint-Roch.

The green fields of Gévaudan.

Saint-Alban-sur-Limagnole.

Around that time I spent the nights mostly in isolated gîtes and chambres d'hôtes. The ones at Les Faux, Bigose and Fineyrols come immediately to mind. All were very good, and all offered cheap, nutritious evening meals. At Les Gentianes in Fineyrols forty of us sat down at two long tables. We ate aligot, the local speciality: a dish made from mashed potatoes, butter, cream, garlic and melted cheese, accompanied by Toulouse sausage, and washed down with gorgeous, red Auvergne wine. The texture of aligot is extraordinary — it's smooth and elastic — and the serving of it a well-practised piece of culinary theatre...

Aligot and accordion. (Image from Wikimedia Commons.)

The Aubrac Plateau

During my 5th and 6th days we climbed higher and crossed the wild, windswept plateau of the Aubrac. I loved this harsh, bare landscape of open grassland dotted with bizarrely-shaped outcrops of basalt rock. The mornings were frosty with a cold wind pushing at our backs. We moved along drailles or drove roads and passed delapidated burons or shepherds' huts - transhumance is still practised here. One night we ate aligot, a local speciality dish of melted cheese (tomme d'Auvergne, a low-fat cheese made from skimmed milk) and mashed potatoes with a little butter, cream - and garlic of course.

The photo shows my companion Thierry and Pascal, the other pilgrim in Saint-Privat-d'Allier I mentioned earlier, who arrived after me chez Jean-Marc et Marie. We have been drinking tea with honey in a hotel bar in the village of Aubrac. This small village was founded in 1120 by a Flemish knight, Adelard de Flandres, who was attacked by bandits on his way to Santiago and who almost died there on his return journey. In gratitude he founded Aubrac as a place of refuge for pilgrims. That hotel bar was certainly a warm and welcoming place of refuge for us that lunchtime.