Gleaning in France

It began almost immediately, this driving hunger of the pilgrim. How do you get enough calories in to fuel your walk? This problem is almost immediately solved by the incredible abundance experienced here.

It started with the grapes....at the beginning we passed acres of vineyards...mostly red grapes. We watched the mechanical harvesters and saw truckloads of grapes being transported. But alas the mechanical harvesters are not thorough and left grapes at the end of the rows and towards the bottom. We gorged ourselves on these red beauties.

Think these are muscadet. Super sweet, saw them for sale as eating grapes, though this definitely vineyard for wine grapes

Gleaning red grapes

Later we found walnuts crunching underneath our feet. They are covered with a protective green shell, but these had rotted off. Two rocks did the trick ... fresh walnuts. 

Next the figs. At the beginning of our journey they were everywhere. Some had caramelized or fermented on the vine. The taste reminded me of so many rich desserts and one can imagine that this, together with the walnuts, must have inspired many dessserts. Of course many of the figs were perfectly ripe and juicy as well, another kind of hydrating treat.

One of hundreds of untended apple trees

Many apple, pear, and quince trees were located along the trail and we did not hesitate to glean the fruit on the ground. Some we ate, some we fed to horses and cows (the cows didn’t seem to know what was going on, but the horses at them gratefully). 

And finally, the chestnuts. Everywhere towards the end were chestnuts crunching underfoot. I was certain these were horse chestnuts..pretty much all we have on the east coast, and even those are scarce. We decided that these actually may be chestnuts so gathered a few handfuls and brought them to our next host who confirmed, yes, these are the real deal, and cooked them up for us in their fireplace. Yum. And I could have brought back many pounds of these, but alas, I did not want to carry them.

Walnuts cracked between two rocks

It would be hard to starve this time of year in this part of France, although I did spend much of the trip hoping for the next meal in spite of all the supplementary food.

Feeding an apple to the horses

Toulouse

We are here as tourists, at last, although this is not really a tourist city. It is a vibrant, heavily used city, the home of Airbus. There is prosperity even in the ethnic area near the train station where we are staying. 

Our first day here was a Saturday and the crowds made me think there was a festival happening, but no, it was just Saturday. A caravan of cars celebrating a wedding drove by with everyone honking and the pedestrians cheering at the bride and groom in the first car. And this went on for a long time because the roads were clogged with pedestrians partying because it was Saturday. 

We did the town on foot, but did not go inside the museums. Truthfully, I tire of attempting to read French museum signage. 

We did see the very elaborate gardens, the river and canal, and the exteriors of the churches and museums. The highlight for me was Les Halles Victor Hugo on a Sunday. This is an extraordinary market and I marvel at the patrons at one end eating oysters and drinking wine, and at the other sipping other alcoholic drinks (remember, Sunday morning). In between were miles of food, fish and shellfish, bread, pates, duck fat, and so on, each booth flowing with abundance.

I did end up taking a light meal, fish, in one of the second floor restaurants, something I had to do. Next time, I will avoid the Lonely Planet recommendation ...I was seated next to three American men, I think professors at George Mason, who were pontificating about addiction...a topic I fear they knew nothing about. 

Public restroom, waiting for clean cycle so I can go in

Inside the public restroom


Wild mushrooms at a street market

Fish display at Les Halles Victor Hugo

Montauban

Montauban. I had to come, since I was only 30 miles away and recent genealogy studies made me aware that a great great... born in 1666, was from here. Of course I have no way to know where he lived, I think I’d have to set aside weeks to figure that out.  

http://www.jstor.org/stable/23367313?seq=1#page_scan_tab_contents8

I took the beautiful midi-Pyrenees train line where we spent most o the ride next to the canal, the midi which pre-dated the train system just like in America. The difference is the canals are wide, very wide, and seem to be filled with water throughout. This the French barge ride business which you can do on your own for a price. It could be very fun.

At any rate, here I am looking for bits of the city that existed in 1666. The first is the old bridge...14th century. Old Antoine Trabue (Strabo) most definitely could have been here.

There are lots of people out strolling on the old streets at lunchtime and none are tourists but me. The main attraction here is the Ingres museum and it is closed for renovations. 

A typical city view, the city is a warren of four-story buildings, built close together, giving that closed-in, but somehow comforting feeling

I just had lunch at a Lebanese restaurant where the tabbouli salad was transporting....oh France! 

From Wikipedia:

“In 1360, under the Treaty of Brétigny, it was ceded to the English; they were expelled by the inhabitants in 1414. In 1560 the bishops and magistrates embraced Protestantism, expelled the monks, and demolished the cathedral. Ten years later it became one of the four Huguenotstrongholds under the Peace of Saint-Germain, and formed a small independent republic. It was the headquarters of the Huguenot rebellionof 1621, and successfully withstood an 86-day siege by Louis XIII. It did not submit to royal authority until after the fall of La Rochelle in 1629, when its fortifications were destroyed by Cardinal Richelieu. The Protestants again suffered persecution after the revocation of the Edict of Nantes in 1685.”

But there is more, previous to the Huguenots were the Cathars, a whole different breed, and apparently the early city also suffered under the Albigensian Crusade, although I haven’t dug up any details yet.

At any rate, there is the old bridge, built the Pont Vieux in the early 14th century (referenced earlier). I feel my great great could have been there. 

I also visited a Calvinistic Nursing home, thinking it was a museum. There was an exhibition of 500 years of Calvinism and based on my lousy French, I had full access to the nursing home. I think, though, that this was also the place where the young Huguenot girls were literally sent to the nunnery to have the Protestant ideas trained out of them. Sadly, due to a lack of language skills, I could not pursue this further. I think, though, that another visit could include more time to look into the actual family background.

Hard to see, but this building represents 500 years of Calvinism and contains a nursing home, which I freely walked through

The Place Nacionale, built in 17th century

The facade does not disappoint, but the car park directly in front is a little insult. After seeing so many churches and squares, it is shocking to see the square turned into a parking lot.

This could be the actual Ingres painting.....

Not to be outdone, the new Catholic Church, Notre Dame Cathedral, dwarfs all else and contains Ingres paintings along with works by his understudies.

Lourdes

We are staying at Cite St. Pierre, an immense Catholic conference center filled with (mostly) French folks taking various workshops. They again have given us our own rooms. My room even has two balconies! 

When I checked in, it was explained to me that I could pay what I wished for a room and three meals a day. I paid my typical donativo, what most places charge for pilgrims, 30 Euro for half board. But this place is quite a departure from our usual place where we are housed in dormitories with 4 to 10 beds (even though we are always alone in the space) and a single toilet and shower for the lot, usually far away. I have a twin room with an accessible bathroom to myself and two balconies, one with tables and chairs. 

Everyone is happy here, as in most of the churches we've stayed in. I think people are just happy to be in this sanctuary where all their meals are taken care of and they are in a holy area.

Meanwhile at the Grotte and the area around the Miracle, it is alternately bustling and sad. There are volunteers, dressed in special nun-like uniforms (women) and sweater and slacks for men. Most are young and beautiful and their job is to transport the old and disabled around the properties. There is the opportunity to bathe in the holy waters and it is the volunteers who help them get there, and presumably anywhere else they want to go.

There are two churches and one chapel (at least) stacked on top of each other, all on top of the sacred Grotte. This is a theme now, the church within a church, the church on top of a church.

Notre Dame Basilica on top, Sanctuary on the bottom

Front view

Some detail


Inside the sanctuary

There are faucets against the walls where pilgrims can fill their special plastic Lourdes water bottles. I found one empty, but had no container, so slurped the special water into my mouthwith hands.

An empty holy water faucet

Gathering holy water

The Grotte itself, where Bernadette experienced the miracle, was easy to experience ...a short line and a shallow cave, the spring itself behind glass, but the pilgrims all touched the walls to suck up some of the magic.

The Grotte from outside, lines to go in


The water inside the grotto

At the baths, pilgrims waited to be doused in the holy water. Here I felt a heaviness, a concentrated piece of human suffering, and a reminder of the purpose of this place: healing and cessation of pain. While the rest of the area was joyful --- whether in wheelchair or a young attendant --the baths are a distillation of life's tragedies.

Waiting area for healing bath

Aside. From all of this, or maybe because of, the place reminds me of a spiritual Disney world. Perhaps the joy of pilgrims in making it here is similar to the arrival at Disney world. Did Disney rip off the Catholic Church or is a good idea a good idea? Is the ability to conjure hope, thus creating joy what both are about? There is probably some truth here and it makes me sad. I'm sadder for the Disney hope because there is no meaning assigned, but then what is Lourdes ? I like to think there is some truth underneath the tourist shops and church pomp and circumstance, and certainly many people volunteer their time to the less fortunate here, so at least on the basis of intention, Lourdes is okay by me.

Many candle pavilions, some giant, human sized

The procession of those who want to be healed.

Bagneres de Bigorre to Lourdes

The clanging of cow and sheep bells is a constant on the trail. You usually don't see them, they are in paddocks on the hillocks above you, sheltered by trees, or below you, hidden from site. Our last few days have been slow, or on busy roads with bells muffled by the sounds of traffic.

It was a beautiful day, our last day to walk. I felt the need to spend one more day outside with the bells, so I set out early...early being 8:10 am, just after sunrise.

The early walk was the usual irritating walk in traffic with multiple stops for passing cars and switches on serpentine roads to ensure cars could see me. But then began a climb on a tiny road, almost to small for cars, up to the village of Neuilh. From this village, you could actually see Lourdes in the distance, the only town of any size in the region. 

From then on, the roads were little traveled so I walked, trying not to trip over the many chestnuts in the road, observing the view from time to time, and rarely seeing a car. The path then turned to dirt and after slipping through the gate, I found myself in a paddock with the sheep. The sheep are generally smart enough to stay out of my way, they look, and then amble off. The views on this mountain path were spectacular so that I had to again pinch myself...yes this is real,  I have wanted to do this for a long time.

A view from the trail

Some cows, thankfully behind fence

From the sheep paddock, sans sheep

The paddock with a lone sheep

The grand finale, many sheep assembled next to the gate so that I had to pass through them to continue.

As the afternoon heated up, the shaded roads disappeared as I made my descent into the big city -- Lourdes. I walked through the downtown, passing a family with a broken down car and empty jugs of Lourdes holy water...had they put the holy water in the radiator? Had the car broken down too soon?

Everywhere there are religious shops selling souvenirs from this place. Even the grocery store had empty plastic bottles in the image of Mary, all the way up to the gallon jugs I had seen next to the broken down car.

Farther on still, the castle, the cathedrals, and the hotels! The streets were full of tourists, I presume most are religious tourists judging by the souvenir shops and the names of the hotels.

The museum of the cure!

The castle, a cathedral in foreground

A
Check out hotel names, my fave is Joan of Arc

Finally I reached the road up to our lodging at Cite St. Pierre. Drat, all uphill! How can this be? I finally arrived to find an enormous complex of buildings going up halfway up the mountain. More up, no signs, so I sat down on a post and took a short rest before struggling up the hill. After several requests for directions, I finally found the office and also ran into Laura. 

Dinner, and rest, Lourdes will have to wait.

Romans, Medieval Cities, Walking on Roads

We are sitting in a warm courtyard while the children's church choir practice their music...lovely unfamiliar hymns sung in French. We are staying in Catholic dormitory housing, sharing showers and toilets with Priests. We have adequate kitchens and each our own little dorm room.

Our current location is Bagneres de Bigorre, a very different kind of town. Instead of a Medieval layout, its heyday is more recent .... it is a spa town. There is a huge thermique, a medical hot springs. If you can get your doctor to write a prescription, you get three weeks here taking in the waters. I suspect that the many Victorian homes were built during a hot springs boom. Okay okay the Romans were here too, taking in the waters, but it seems the town exploded in prosperity more recently.

There is a fountain that spouts "water of youth," and we are free to fill our bottles with it. I ran into a man filling many many bottles with the restorative waters.

We haven't been walking a whole lot, and any walking done is on roads...roads have less severe grades, and often are shorter than the hiking trails. When we left Portet de Aspet, we took roads, down, down, down to an improbable village named Juzet d'Izaut where we were housed by a couple who formerly owned a bakery in Marseille. They have been housing and feeding pilgrims for over ten years and have quite a setup on their third floor.

The next day was Saint-Bertrand de Comminges. This village was a long walk, with lots of elevation, which has been vexing Laura's heel, so we ended up hitchhiking most of the way. Shockingly, we were picked up first by a young couple with a baby seat in the car, and then by a woman whose 8-year old daughter was in the car. People were not afraid of us, to be sure. I feel the people who did pick us up enjoyed practicing their English. I might have enjoyed practicing my French, but I am so hopeless, it doesn't seem fair.

That day we did end up walking the last 6 kilometers, weighted down with groceries since there are no groceries in Saint-Bertrand de Comminges. We stopped at a remarkable 11th century church made of stones, pillars, and frescoes left over by the Romans. It was quite disarming to see these remains stuffed seemingly willy nilly in the walls and arches. We later passed the ruins of the Roman temple...I suspect this was the first Roman building raided. From this remarkable church (St. Just de Valcrebere).

St. Just


From this church, the town of Saint-Bertrand de Comminges and its enormous Cathedral loom, the scale off like a Disney movie with the hilltown itself barely recognizable under the weight of the Cathedral. We learned later that this Cathedral was an important pilgrimage route and was built to allow huge throngs to worship from the 12th century on.


The ancient pipe organ on the left, the facade of the church within a church on the right....hard to get perspective.


The lovely cloister with views of the mountains and fields all around

The church from the side, for scale


Entering the church within a church...Nami had the key


wood inlaid panels from the church within a church

We stayed in the church presbyterie. Not being religious we both thought we were again staying with a Presbyterian pastor, but no, we stayed where the lone priest lives. The building was immense and we had rooms overlooking the valley below the church. Our hostess was a Japanese-French woman who lived in the building and also fully stocked the facility including wine, which made us very happy.

Nami (we were unable to pronounce her French name) took us on a tour of the Cathedral. The Cathedral was fascinating because they built a cathedral inside of the cathedral. The purpose was so that the priests could worship in the church while the many, many pilgrims were there. I need to do my research, but I suspect the plague had a lot to do with the number of pilgrims and the need for a separate worship area. Nami gave us a very private tour where the inlaid wood carvings and other wooden artifacts were handled, a very personal experience.

After Bertrand de Comminges are several other stops, but we skipped them. We tried to hitchhike, but ended up walking the first stage...but then hopped and skipped past two others to arrive here at Bagneres de Bigorre (see above).

I apologize for the rambling, we grow tired.

Tomorrow, maybe I walk to Lourdes on the shortcut and maybe Laura takes the bus. We shall see what actually transpires...

Romantic Pub in the Mountains

I am pinching myself a lot lately to remind myself I am not in a dream, but in a magical part of France that I am surprised still exists. Last night we ate and slept in an ancient pub lit by glowing firelight and inhabited by scores of locals cozying around the bar for Friday night drinks.

The men came in one by one, many of them bringing along their dogs so that as the evening progressed the place was heated by dogs and men. We wonder where the wives are in these villages...are they home watching tv or are they engaged in tapestry weaving or lacemaking!

Our hostess Muriel made the food and there was evidence of her tarts and pies near the hearth. She carefully explained the menu while apologizing for her French. The first course, the entree, was either a tomato tart, a duck gizzard tart, or pigs feet. Second was pasta, gratin, and salad with either steak or duck hearts. Third was banana chocolate tart or berry tart.

Of course we were entertained on and off by the town drunk, who had some skill in English and repeatedly said, "what the fuck" and then grabbed either Laura or me for confirmation. The owners repeatedly called him away so that we could eat in peace. The meal was wonderful, our best so far of the three or four restaurant meals we've had thus far.

The next day we were treated to the villages apple pressing. There was a cart ful of apples, plus a few carloads full and much apparatus fo washing, pressing, and sterilizing the fresh juice. All of the men involved in this activity were worry andgrisley in a very pleasing way. I somehow felt the Middle Ages although they were using modem equipment.

Sadly, we had to leave this magical place in the mountains for our next destination...we creep closer and closer to Lourdes.

St. Lizier, Castillon

Mas d'Azil to St Lizier: 21.7 km

St Lizier to Castillon: 18.8 km

 St Lizier is a fifth century roman/Gallic city with a Bishop's Palace built at the city's tippy top. The cathedral is from the 11th century and has an intact monastery....up to now, I've only seen these in museums. The city is stunning, built upon a hill with tiny cobblestone alleys. It seems the city was entirely historical and barely lived in because there was one tourist office, one restaurant and one boulangerie and no grocery store and no pharmacy aside from the 17th century pharmacy that required a tour.

The cloisters in St. Lizier's ancient church

A street in St Lizier

We were housed by the tourist office just underneath the pharmacy where 15 euro each bought us an apartment. There was a full kitchen partly provisioned, so we were able to cook our meals each night and eat them at a round table in a different room! One of the reasons we cook is becase dinner in France begins at 7:30 and we like to eat earlier.

I woke up sick on the day we were planning to hike to Castillon, which is why we stayed two nights. This gave us the opportunity to go on a French-speaking tour of the old pharmacy featuring a bottle of Thieves Vinegar. I understood one or two words of the one hour tour!

Old pharmacy

Thieves vinegar

After healing from my illness, we set out Thursday for Castillon through several tiny medieval villages. We passed by a huge water trough that we believe fueled an old paper mill. There was a marble quart and close by an ancient marble bridge. And ho hum, we went past several pastures of lovely cows and sheep.

Pigeon house

Our lodging in Castillon was also courtesy of the tourist office high offers cheap lodging to pilgrims 10.0 Euro to stay in a converted pigeon house where the main floor is a bench and loft with a hot plate for sleeping and the bathroom and shower are downstairs, but require a 100 yard walk outside and a key! Much effort was put into the wood and tile, so I am confused why the strange design.

I was quite intrigued that there was ever such a thing as a pigeon house. I looked it up and indeed, they are/were homes for pigeons, and I just learned from Darryl that they were kept for fertilizing crops! I must round up the pigeons in my neighborhood and enslave them for their excrement!

We also climbed to the top of the town to visit their 11th century church which is no longer in use. We were surprised when the office of tourism gave us a giant skeleton key to the church. Unfortunately, we were unable to re-lock the door afterwards. Nothing like leaving an ancient artifact open to marauders, although any valuables the church may have contained were long gone.

What is this doggie in the window?

On way up to church, Warren of houses

The abandoned church with the broken lock

We actually went out for dinner, but somehow ended up with the same meal we seem to always get...steak and salad. Don't get it.

Public washtub