Day 16 St Jean de Laur to Bach
Today's morning orchestra was having trouble striking the right chord with their warm up- everyone sounded out of tune and the conductor was in great difficulty getting their attention let alone achieving any harmony. We could hear the cows making a racket, the sheep bleating and the dogs creating a great frenzy.
It was when we walked around the corner of a lane that we realised what the issue was. It is Sunday and so the hunters are out. We came across two hunters waiting at a junction looking forlornly across field. They were waiting for their dogs to come back and that explains all the noise that we were hearing- the super excitable dogs which then upset our sensitive peace loving farm animals. It was with amazement that one of the hunters showed me his device that he uses to track his dogs- a GPS tag that is on their collars - he said that otherwise they can go walkabout for several days. They didn't expect too much game today because of the heat.
I love the early morning light as it is soft with the early mist and the freshness of the day as opposed to the harshness of the heat later on. Often I see the light shining through the coloured leaves along the track and it reminds me of the light that illuminates a stained glass window but in this case it is the nature that that is being illuminated.
We have been walking now for over two weeks so we are starting to get use to the pattern of the land, the villages, the farmers and even nature. For example if there is dew in the morning we know that those funny little white spider web nests will occur in the morning reeds, but like lately it has been warm so they do not appear. We notice also almost on the dot of 2 pm the spider webs will start to appear across the track as we walk tangling in our hair and faces. They must be extremely annoyed at our presence and the fact that we undo all their hard work with one giant stride.

The other thing I have noticed is that you start to feel the vibes of a place as well. Maybe because your feet are always hitting the earth so that you pick up the sensors from that I don't know but as we approached Limognes today I could feel the strong sense that there was more activity and a buzz was in the air than was normal
And so it was as we made our way into the larger town of the morning which is Limognes. as even though it was Sunday it was market day and everyone was milling about, the gentlemen wearing their caps and berets, the women with their scarves, the children darting in and around the stalls, the dogs on their leads trying to get the owners to go to the sausage stall and all clutching tightly their shopping baskets. They were peering into the vegetable stalls and fondling the pears, oogling the chevraux cheeses, chatting to all the familiar faces, gossiping with the neighbors no then sauntering off to purchase their breads. I was amused to see one of the longest lines was for the barbqued chickens- no fast food outlets in this part of the world but obviously a cooked chicken to take back for the Sunday lunch is a treat. George purchases a small packet of chevreaux cheese to add to our picnic and regret that we don't have a stronger back to carry more of the lovely produce. Apparently the market is finished by midday so when I ask another peregrine who comes to our gite in the evening about how lovely it was in Limognes this morning he looks at me as if I am making up a story. He passed by the town later in the day and it was back to the quiet Sunday serenity with no activity to be seen.

We have been told that there are a lot of English people who are living in this area and so it is as I sit with my coffee I can hear the English accents around various conversation as they go through the market purchasing theIr produce.
We don't see any pilgrims walking today only the locals when we near the towns who are out for a Sunday stroll or some energetic souls out for a jog.
We have been very fortunate with the weather for quite awhile now. The temperatures have been quite high 27, 26 with sunshine. I am not complaining but by the afternoon walking becomes a bit more of a struggle in the heat. I am grateful that I can zip off the pants to creat shorts- not a great look I know with the white legs, thick walking socks and big walking boots. It is an unsightly sight I know and I have ensured that there is no photographic evidence to record such an abhorrence!!
This must be the last hurrah of summer - we will take each day as it comes. It certainly helps with the drying of the socks.

Rocks rocks rocks rocks
Have I mentioned that the route is constructed of rocks - up to now a large percentage of the track has been mainly rocks, some asphalt and a little of smooth earth. Walking on the rocks all day means that the soles of your feet are like on fire by the afternoon. The constant pressure and jabbing of the sharp points has an undesirable affect. I am missing the bush tracks of the Australian terrain.
Each day the legs and feet complain somewhat and I think about the chemin being a pilgrimage of penance. At this rate I have paid penance for more than one life.
The value of the rocks to the area is the appearance now of the structures called dolmens. They were built some 3500 years ago as monumental funerary tombs. There is one that is marked as being off the trail and we make the sacrifice of extra Fitbit steps and take the extra steps to go and have a look. It's not everyday you get to see such an amazing site just sitting in a paddock without any fan fare.

Our gite is a restored old farmhouse hosted by an Englishman and his French wife. There is a large metal bell at the gate which is a call out when pulled to advise of newcomers. It is funny to hear the English accent greet us when the gate is opened- we have become so accustomed to the French. Mike has been in France for over 20 years and would be in his late 60's I'd say. I think it is his 2nd marriage as he talks about the English grandchildren visiting. He tells us that his French is terrible but he appears to hold his own when a domestic erupts with his wife when we advise them later in the evening that the shower only produced cold water. As the developing flow of 'conversation' flowed over us we slinked back into the wallpaper and try to disappear.

I completed my routine washing after my shower and was making my way to the little clothes horse to hang the wet articles out, when out sprang our French Madame. I was subsequently counselled by madam for my washing process. Her husband forgot to show me the laundry tub and she informed me that she didn't want the bathroom sink to be used as it creates too much mess. I wonder what she would have thought if she found out I actually washed them in the shower ( barbarian no doubt!!)

It is interesting to note that it the people who make a place special ( or not so special) The gite can be very basic but the people warm, effusive and friendly ( like our Nimbin experience) and it makes for such an enjoyable stay. Or you may have a gite that is new with lovely decor like this one tonight and yet there is such an atmosphere of disquiet that we feel we will be happy to be on our way tomorrow. It is the same everywhere.