Part 2 of 4: France 2015 – Beaune to Figeac
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Part 2 of 4: France 2015 – Beaune to Figeac Street art near Beaune: I’ll betcha it’s a comment on hollowness of bourgeois life Wednesday, September 9/15 − Beaune to Le Puy We woke up, packed our stuff, and then ate the hotel’s croissant and coffee breakfast while chatting with the Christian Coloradans. Today is market day in Beaune, so we walked over and checked it out: lots of cheeses, truffles, middle-eastern guys selling honking big olives, and various knick-knack booths. As expected, Anne bought a bunch of stuff (a knife, olives, napkins). I went booth to booth tasting free samples of cheese and sausage. Who needs breakfast? I also tasted truffle for the first time in my life. One of the booths allowed you to sample their truffle products: oils, butters, spreads, etc. I’m hooked. There were lots of geriatric British tourists. The average age was about 80. You could smell the arthritis. I felt like a child. After that, we motored out of Beaune. Truffles galore at the Beaune market − one of those nuggets on the left costs 50E We took the A6, the three-lane toll highway, to make distance, driving rapidly through Lyon and heading for Le Puy. On the way, we got off the highway and onto the back roads. At a particularly nice place in the Loire Gorge, we stopped, wandered about for awhile – for some reason there were cops everywhere – and had a picnic. We were right on the river, which had a thick layer of olive-green bacteria on it. However, the murky water didn’t seem to bother the fisherman fishing along the bank next to us. After that we drove the winding, one-lane highway to Le Puy. Picnicking by the Loire Le Puy – the name means “extinct volcano − is an important stop on the French Camino. It was also a much bigger town than we expected, and our first impression was that it was very scuzzy. We saw lots of down-and-out guys sitting about drinking in the alleys. At first, Anne hated the place. We did our wander about looking for hotels. We ended up walking miles, checking out about seven hotels, all of which were full. We almost took one room, which was cheap and near the old town, but it was just a bit too scuzzy for Anne’s tastes, so she rejected it. If I’d been by myself, I wouldn’t have hesitated. When I’m travelling, I feel it’s more important to have any place at all than to have a nice place. At one of the hotels we checked out, the St. Jacque (three stars), the smirking, arrogant concierge wouldn’t even let us look at the room. We had to take it sight unseen. This was a first. I asked why. He said: “C‘est la politique de l’hotel” (It’s the hotel’s policy). He was smirking all the time and dangling the key in front of my face, like a dog treat. I refused to take it sight unseen (“Ce n’est pas possible,” I replied, indignantly, with my best Burnaby accent). So we kept on looking. After a few more tries and no luck, we caved and came back to the St. Jacque to take it sight unseen. Anne went in by herself. I didn’t want to talk to him, so I waited on a park bench outside. She came out a few minutes later saying that he refused to rent it to her, because she had asked if smoking was allowed. When she said that, he hung up the room key and said: “We don’t rent to smokers” – which, in effect, means he doesn’t rent to French people. Still homeless, we decided to press reset and go have a beer. The worst case was that we would have to sleep in the car, which is do-able. We went to a nice outdoor bar in front of the tourist bureau and, while sipping our beers, told the motherly (yet chic) waitress about our situation. She mentioned that there was a Gite, a pilgrim hostel, nearby, and went into the bar to phone to see if there were any rooms. There were, so we gave her a big tip (technically you’re not supposed to tip in France) and walked over to check it out. The Gite du Capucins is a clean, very-well maintained, modern place, so we took two single beds in an eight-bedroom dorm and ended up having the full dorm to ourselves − all this plus breakfast for 25E a piece. After settling in, we went out for dinner and had salad. Both of us were very tired, so we packed it in early and went to bed. Thursday, September 10/15 − Le Puy-en-Velay View of Le Puy from the Camino. Anne walked up and climbed into the Virgin Mary’s crown We got up fairly early again, showered, and loaded everything into the car. We weren’t sure whether we were going to spend another night there. We arranged to park our car there for the day (5E). A young British fellow at the desk, who was staying in Le Puy to learn French, was extremely helpful. It was great to be able to speak English to someone. The Via Podensis: It begins at Le Puy and ends at St. Jean-Pied-de-Port (1600 km) After that, we had the Gite’s included breakfast (juice, croissant, yoghurt, coffee − it was just fine), and then headed off to walk the Camino. We walked out of the building, turned left twice, and we were immediately on the French Camino – the path is called the GR65 in France. There were actual pilgrims with backpacks walking in front of us. This immediately brought me fond memories of last summer’s pilgrimage in Spain. Quasi-pilgrim, Anne, and other pilgrims walking the Camino from Le Puy. We walked about 15k, as far as St-Christophe-sur-Dolaizon, meeting many Pilgrims. For example, there was a group of five ladies from New Brunswick who that day were starting the long, three month trek to Santiago. Two of them didn’t look like they were going to last very long. The French Camino's direction protocol − in Spain, they use yellow arrows. On the way back, we were having a debate about French usage, so Anne asked a French couple coming towards us whether you say “J’ai attendu” (I’m waiting) or “Je suis attendu.” According to them, you can say both. The couple actually acted it out. He stepped back to give himself space for his demonstration, looked into Anne’s eyes and said: “J’ai attendu Claire.” (I’m waiting for Claire). At that moment, as if to clear up any confusion I might have, Claire turned to me and explained: “Je suis Claire.” Back on the Camino again: same shoes, same hat, same bag even − different country When we got back, we had lunch at the Gite, and then we headed off to explore the town. We both especially wanted to check out the Cathedral Notre Dame, a Romanesque cathedral on top of a Puy. It turned out to be magnificent, full of really cool art, and there’s a very high-end Camino hostel that adjoins it, so you can sleep there if you want to. The church also has a spectacular staircase that descends into the city.1 1 In Medieval times, Le Puy’s cathedral was designated as one of the four French departure sites for the Camino (Vezelay, Arles, and Tours are the others). In those days, this path was called the Via Podensis, now it's called the GR65. It was inaugurated in 950/1 AD by Godescalc, the bishop of Le Puy, who set off for Santiago from here, thereby becoming the first non-Hispanic to do the pilgrimage. The descent into town from the Cathedral. Anne and I went our separate ways at the Cathedral. She decided to walk up to the statue of the Virgin Mary, which was built in 1860 from melted cannons captured during the Crimean war. According to Anne, there was a great view of the area from her crown.2 2 Le Puy is built around three lava pinnacles. The cathedral is at the top of the largest one, the statue of the Virgin is at the top of the highest one, and a chapel tops the steepest one. Anne climbed up into the statue. As usual, I was too lazy. As usual, I was lazy and wanted to just stroll about and people watch, no more big hills. The town has a renaissance fair in mid-September where, we were told, everyone (and I mean everyone – shopkeepers, waitresses, street-cleaners) dresses up in period costume. The town is, also, famous for its lentils because they thrive in its rich volcanic soil. They have even been given an AOC label to protect them. One of the many boutiques I saw only sold lentils or things made out of lentils. I think they sold a cell- phone that was completely made from lentils (an L-phone). Costume for sale or rent for Le Puy’s upcoming Renaissance fair. After our respective walkabouts, we met up at the same tourist-bureau bar and had a couple of beers, and then went out for dinner. During dinner, we sat beside a group of middle-aged Scots who were setting off on the Robert Louis Stevenson Travels with a Donkey path, which starts at Le Puy and heads south3.