Fun and Excitement on the 750 km Chemin du Puy

Those of you who have followed our blog for a while know that we have hiked several Caminos de Santiago – the religious trails across Europe leading to Santiago de Compostela. We did another one to kick off our travels for this fall. This time it was Le Chemin du Puy in France. (Or the Via Podiensis, or GR65, or Le Chemin de Saint-Jacques, or Le Chemin de Compostelle. They can’t make up their minds.)

We walked 750 kilometres from Le Puy-en-Velay to Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port near the Spanish border, carrying 10 kg backpacks. It took us a month, averaging over 20 km per day. Some days were over 30 km; a few were closer to 10 km when the heat got too intense.

It was more challenging than we expected

We’d been led to believe by what we read and watched that the route would be a relatively relaxing, scenic hike after the first few hilly days. Oh how wrong we were.

The first challenge was the heat. Luckily we missed the worst of the heat dome that afflicted Europe for most of the summer. It was still hot though. Most days were in the mid to high-twenties. A few got into the mid-thirties.

The second challenge was the hills. We’ve hiked steeper and higher mountains. These hills, especially in the first week, were different. They just kept coming one after another. Every day seemed to start with a climb. The terrain was tough. Most of the trails were loose slate. We had to watch our footing on every step. If the trail wasn’t over loose rock, it was through v-shaped irrigation channels, too narrow for George’s big feet. Downhill was almost as bad as uphill.

The third challenge was the lack of services. There were few cafes or restaurants between the main towns. We had to carry our own food and water. Unlike the Camino Frances in Spain, we rarely had a chance to sit down for coffee. If we wanted to rest our feet it usually meant sitting by the side of the road for a few minutes.

Enough Whinging

Despite the challenges, it was a great experience. We met a lot of nice people; the scenery was spectacular; the medieval French towns and villages were stunning; and, we ate some great food (more on that in our next post.) We won’t bore you with a blow-by-blow account of thirty days. Instead, here are some highlights.

The scenery lived up to the hype

The Chemin started, naturally enough, in Le Puy-en-Velay. “Puy” translates roughly as “hill” or “volcanic spike”. That should have given us a hint what to expect. We spent the first few days climbing up and down volcanic mountains. When we weren’t watching our feet to avoid slipping, or surrounded by pine forests, the views of the jagged peaks and valleys were stunning.

From the Velay region we climbed to the Aubrac Plateau. The plateau is a flat expanse of alpine pastures, rocks, and ancient drystone walls. Aubrac cattle are the primary residents. Lots and lots of cattle. The Chemin cuts right through the pastures, with herds grazing all around. The cattle are so accustomed to pelerins (pilgrims) that they didn’t even lift their heads as we passed a few feet from them. Despite being stark and barren, the Aubrac Plateau was one of the most dramatically beautiful regions on the Chemin du Puy.

After a week, we descended from the Aubrac Plateau and began following the Lot River. We passed through a succession of fairytale medieval fortified towns – Saint-Côme-d’Olt, Estaing, Espalion, Espeyrac, Conques, the list goes on. The Chemin passes through ten of the Plus Beaux Villages de France (Most Beautiful Villages in France), many of them within just a few days walk of each other. The only one that was busy with tourists was Conques. Espalion was busy, but not with tourists. It was the weekly market day. Shoppers crowded the streets browsing the stalls of fresh vegetables, charcuterie and pastries.

One of our favourite towns was Cajarc. It is not a dazzling medieval town. It has a few rather plain streets. However, it is a Site Remarquable du Goût (Remarkable Site of Taste). For a town of about 1,200 people it had two gourmet food shops; two well-stocked fine-wine stores; several boucheries (butcher shops); a patisserie; and, several good restaurants, including Jeu de Quilles, a Michelin Bib Gourmand restaurant.

The rolling hills of the Gascogne region were covered with large fields of corn and vineyards. We passed through in hunting season. On weekends, armies of hunters with packs of hunting dogs chased wild boar through the nearby woods. It was disconcerting to walk along the trail listening to the cry of the dogs and intermittent gunshots only a few hundred metres away. We walked fast past those forests! Gascogne is famous for duck – duck breast, duck terrine, duck sausage, duck liver, duck confit, you name it. By the time we left Gascogne we never wanted to see another plate of duck.

Our last three days were through Pays Basque (“Basque Country”) and the foothills of the Pyrenees. Villages were filled with traditional half-timbered houses trimmed in green and white. It is an intensive farming region with cows, sheep or horses in every field. We spent the last day trudging along country lanes sidestepping the piles of sheep and cow dung that coated the pavement. Near Cajarc we’d had to dodge a large herd of goats. Approaching Saint Jean on our last day, it was sheep that took over the road.

Where did we sleep?

Pelerins traditionally stay in gîtes, guest houses. They can be as small as one or two bedrooms in someone’s house, or as big as former monasteries with dozens of rooms. A lot of them have shared dorms, but most also offer private rooms. We splurged on private rooms. Even when the rooms were private, more often than not, bathrooms and showers were shared.

At Le Auberge du Sauvage en Gevaudan we shared a room with two women from Denmark, the only time we shared a room. The toilets and showers were shared between six rooms. The property is operated by a co-operative of local farmers as a way to support the local economy. All the food served at the communal dinner and breakfast comes from the nearby farms.

People in rural France are very trusting. Temperatures were forecast to reach the high thirties one day, so we started hiking at dawn to beat the heat. We arrived at O’Jardin outside Arthez-de-Bearn by noon. It was a lovely house along the main road with a chubby cat lounging on the garden table. No one answered the door, but our names and a room number were on a chalkboard outside. We ventured inside. The house was deserted but the room we were assigned was ready so we settled in.

George texted the host Sandrine to ensure it was okay. She replied that she was out running errands and to make ourselves at home. If we had laundry, we should go through the door marked “Privé” down to her basement and use her machine. By the time Sandrine arrived a couple of hours later, we were relaxing in the garden with cold drinks from her fridge. (Don’t worry. We paid for them.)

The French are famous (or infamous) for their working hours for good reason

We’d been warned not to expect anything to be open on Sundays. And, of course, nothing is ever open midday. We weren’t prepared for the random closures at other times.

Leaving Decazeville on a Monday morning, our host told us we absolutely had to stock up on food and water in the next town. He warned there was nothing after that. When we arrived, everything was closed, even the boulangerie. Workers dismantling a stage explained that there had been a big festival the day before. The whole town shut down for the day to recover.

Our destination for the day was Figeac, a sizable town. We arrived too early to check into our gîte, so went in search of a cold beer. Every cafe, bar and restaurant in town was closed. For no apparent reason.

We stayed in the medieval town of Montréal-du-Gers on a Wednesday night. The town has a beautiful square lined by a few nice looking restaurants. We declined our host’s offer of dinner, thinking dinner on the square would be nicer. To our dismay, all the restaurants close on Wednesdays. When we’d walked into town we’d seen a nice boucherie (butcher shop) that sold prepared meals to go. We resigned ourselves to a take-out meal. Surprise. The butcher closed early on Wednesdays. We ended up with a pizza from a take-out joint. We also declined the gîte’s breakfast the next morning since there was a nice cafe next door. You guessed it. The cafe was closed on Thursdays.

A luxury break from the Chemin

We took a two day break from the Chemin to celebrate our fortieth anniversary. We hopped a taxi 10 km to Les Pres d’Eugenie, a Relais & Chateaux hotel in Eugénie-les-Bains. It’s a grand old hotel with large formal gardens. With our hiking outfits and dusty backpacks, we stood out from their typical guests.

A bottle of champagne was waiting in our room. The suite had a large sitting area, dressing room, gilded bathroom fixtures and its own balcony. We spent the time just relaxing – reading in the cozy lobby lounges, lazing by the pool, wandering the grounds and exploring the one main street of the town. We had a memorable celebratory dinner at one of its three restaurants. It was tough two days later to get back into a taxi to take us back to the trail.

Close Encounters of the Animal Kind

The Chemin mostly passes through farmland. Animals rule the road. This is a little video montage.