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 Ways Of Saint James

The 'Ways of Saint James' to Santiago de Compostela (from John Brierley's A Pilgrim's Guide to the Camino de Santiago). Please click on the map to enlarge.

Here's a map showing the principal pilgrim routes in France and Spain. (It's a very basic, simplified one, and does not show all the Spanish routes, nor all the European routes which link into the French ones — but it's fine for my purpose here.) All these paths are the 'Ways of Saint James'.

As you can see, the four main French paths begin in Paris, Vézelay, Le Puy and Arles. They all join what's known as the Camino Francés (The French Way) either at Saint-Jean in France or Puente la Reina in Spain. The Camino Francés, the most popular by far of all the paths, and marked in brown on the map, runs from the Pyrenees on the French-Spanish border right across northern Spain to Santiago — after Rome, the most important Christian pilgrimage site in Europe.

Over the past five years I've walked four of the paths marked here: the Le Puy route (Via Podiensis), the Arles route (Via Tolosana), the Camino Francés, and the Seville route (Vía de la Plata or Camino Mozárabe). Last September I also walked the path from Geneva in Switzerland to Le Puy (Via Gebennensis) — not shown on the map. On my recent two-week trip I decided to walk part of the Le Puy route again; I'd never done any of the routes in springtime before. I finished just short of Cahors, which is almost at the half-way point.

The whole stretch from Geneva via Le Puy to Saint-Jean is also known as the GR 65 — part of that excellent network of waymarked footpaths the French call the Grande Randonnée. 

To give some idea of scale, here are the distances of some of the routes: Le Puy 750 km, Arles 800 km, Camino Francés 800 km, Seville 1000 km.

Monistrol-d'Allier

A final farewell to the sublime view from Rochegude.

A lunch spot to die for by the Allier river in Monistrol.

Monistrol-d'Allier.

Monistrol-d'Allier.

A bizarre and intriguing volcanic rock formation above Monistrol.

From Rochegude you descend a challenging, natural pathway of rocks and tree roots to Monistrol.  But of course — pilgrim routes being what they are — you have to climb up again on the other side of the valley. This is the view back to Monistrol from the other side.

Climbing up.

Half-way up a steep and stony track you reach the Chapelle de la Madeleine, built under the rock.

A metal cross punctuates the Way.

Approaching Sauges, you pass this tall tree sculpture. Here's a part of the lower section featuring Saint James.

Rochegude

At the rocky outcrop of Rochegude (967 m) all that remains of a 13th-century castle is one round tower...

... and a tiny chapel dedicated to Saint James...

The prospect from here across the Allier valley is simply breathtaking, one of the finest viewpoints of the whole Chemin...

A Tiny Statue Of Saint James

Climbing up into the woods above Yenne, I looked back on the village through the early morning mist. You can see that it has a wonderful situation, nestled beneath ranges of hills and mountains...

I soon reached Notre-Dame-de-la-Montagne (Our Lady of the Mountain). This chapel had won a prize for its renovation work. The sun quickly burnt off the mist and the temperature soared again...

From this belvedere I drank in stunning views of the Rhône valley...

The path that day - from Yenne to Saint Genix - was a strenuous one, traversing huge forests high above the Rhône. No sooner had you descended one slope than you were faced with another steeper one. The path was stony too, which was hard on the feet. At least the trees provided some welcome shade from the sweltering sun. I identified box, birch, oak, walnut, sycamore and sweet chestnut. More stone crosses punctuated the route...

Here's quite a new one, erected in 2008, and inscribed with the totemic Camino watchword: Ultreia! You are all expert shell-seekers by now, so I'm sure you've spotted the coquille on the shaft of the cross...

I stopped for a bite to eat at a wooden hunting lodge in the middle of the Bois de Glaize. Some pilgrims were already there, and others arrived soon afterwards. Where do they all come from? This hunting lodge and the stone cross below were two of the inspirations behind my poem 'A Prayer'...

This wayside cross, these offerings / Of stones and flowers crowding the base, / This niche / Jammed with a tiny statue of Saint James...

This could be a representation of Saint James or Saint Roch - the two are often pretty much interchangeable in these parts. Both saints are guiding lights of the Camino.

After a final hour-long slog - which took me almost to the summit of Mont Tournier - I skirted the peak and made a gradual descent out of the forest and into a gentler landscape of farm and pasture - many fields grazed by the familiar brown and white, or light brown, cattle. Just look at those impressive limestone cliffs at the head of the valley...

I finally arrived at the hamlet of Grésin, which lies just before Saint Genix, my day's destination...

Chartreuse De Pomier

Leaving Beaumont the next day, I found Saint James keeping watch over the Place de l'Église...

Soon I passed the Chartreuse de Pomier, originally a Carthusian monastery, founded in 1170. I love the Chinese lanterns hanging from the trees. This grand and historic building is now used for weddings, conferences and conventions... 

The stone portico at the entrance is all that remains from the 12th century...

Rain showers set in during the morning, but by mid-afternoon all was dry and bright again. Low clouds drifted up the valleys...

At one point I had to skip rather abruptly over an electric fence to make way for this herd of cows...

More wayside crosses punctuated the route. Note the stones left by pilgrims to mark their journey...

Here I'm looking across wooded hills and valleys towards the Alps, as the afternoon becomes ever warmer...

I spent a few moments contemplating this beautifully situated and sympathetically constructed Marian shrine. It has the air of a fairy grotto about it...

The views were superb as your gaze opened out from unharvested crops of maize in the foreground, across swathes of dark green forest and a patchwork of lighter green pasturage, to a formidable mountainscape of sheer white cliffs in the distance...

Via Gebennensis

I've just returned from a momentous and stunning Camino. Between 16 September and 30 September I made a pilgrimage from Geneva in Switzerland to Le Puy-en-Velay in France. That's a distance of 360 km at an average of 24 km a day. I walked through five different French départements: Haute-Savoie, Savoie, Isère, Loire and Haute-Loire. The familiar blue and yellow coquilles Saint Jacques signs marked the way immaculately throughout. The route follows the same path as the French long-distance GR (Grande Randonnée) 65 - so there were plenty of white-on-red blazes, or balises, to point out the direction too. It was hard to get lost - though I did so temporarily once or twice, as is my custom.

After two mornings and one full day of rain, I enjoyed glorious sunshine for the rest of the trip, the temperature hovering somewhere between a very warm 20%C and a very hot 30%C. The shade of vast and numerous forests provided welcome relief from the heat. There were good accommodations, ranging from simple gîtes to nice hotels. Best and most rewarding of all were the accueils jacquaires - here families invite you to become part of their household for the evening. You sleep in their house, you dine and have breakfast with them, you talk with them. They charge a modest sum for this. It's a privilege and an honour for a pilgrim-stranger to partake uniquely in this kind of local family life for a while. The trust and openness you experience is very special indeed.

This route is a treasure, and the Camino's best kept secret. I won't deny it's a strenuous route - there are few days when you're on the flat. But it's a beautiful route - mountainous, sure, though foothills rather than alpine peaks. This is a path for the walker not the climber! One meets very few English or Americans on it, but it's well known to the Germans and the Swiss.

I set out from Geneva on Friday 16 September in a positive and ebullient mood. How could you not enjoy life as you step out on a new Camino on a warm and sunny day, full of hope and expectation? Geneva's neo-classically designed theatre looked very distinguished under an overarching sky of cerulean blue...    

Very soon an early coquille marker in Geneva's old quarter confirmed the way...

In Geneva's Protestant Cathedral of Saint Peter I found a stained glass window depicting the Apostle Saint James, guiding light of the Camino. Note the sandals, the staff and the shell on the hat...

John Knox preached and Calvin taught in this 13th century chapel next to the cathedral...

In need of a little reformation myself, I pressed onwards - ever eager to rediscover the transforming power of the Camino - through Geneva's delightful old town with its rather Italianate-looking squares...

... until I arrived at the lovely suburb of Carouge...

... with its fine and subtly painted buildings...

On the very outskirts of the city I was captivated by this crude, hand-crafted sign indicating the direction to Santiago - a mere 1850 km away...

The auguries looked good as I strode along the path to Paradise Pond...

... and these two contented donkeys proved for the moment that all seemed well, at least in this small corner of Europe, on such a wonderful morning...