So there are two ways to look at this. One is I may have missed out on a great challenge for the start of this Camino, or, the second way is that I may actually get to continue and even enjoy this visit to France. We will all have plenty of challenges in life so missing a couple of big hills to go up and down in the heat gives me the opportunity to have different experiences and see a bit more of a village in the countryside of France. And so I caught the minibus past the other pilgrims, through St Privât down the mountain into the valley and past the bridge that Eiffel built in Monistrol and back up another hill and down again into Saugues. Thank heavens I caught the bus that day!

The Gite owner in Saugues was a spanish pilgrim who had walked many caminos and gladly offered me a room with an ensuite for two nights. On the first night I had the privilege of sharing a meal with a great bunch of French pilgrims including a father and his daughter who were walking a few days during the daughters three week break before heading to England. The difference here was she is a Nun and apparently nuns only get a one week holiday a year or three weeks every three years!!! Never actually contemplated workers rights for nuns before have you? I guess it’s best not get into that habit :). Actually this was a lovely evening and quite a contrast from the exorcist like experience the night before!

So on my day off it was still hot so the hospitalero recommended the town Biological pool which sounded like a treat but was also quite a walk in the heat. I broke up the journey by visiting the Beast of Gauvadan museum (it’s not actually spelt like that but thats what it means). It’s the story of a wolf type creature that apparently killed a lot of people in the 1700’s. The rooms were so dark I scared myself and zoomed through the displays in a similar fashion to how I had zoomed through the Louvre at closing time 30 odd years ago! But this time the Bête was the concern not the need to see the Mona Lisa.

I then thought it was a good idea to visit the Tower as a very cool breeze was blowing out the door. As I went up the first level a French sign warned that climbing the stairs was perilous I turned to the worker and asked if it was true- he just smiled and nodded his head – but as I had just paid money I wanted to scout the area and see just how far away that darn pool was so I did what any sane Australian on holiday would do and I gave it a go!

Well the sign was not wrong. The further I went up the smaller the stairs got. They went from timber to stone and eventually the stairwell became so small my day pack was grazing the wall with each step. Finally I could see the sky just as a bell started ringing. I stopped in my tracks and contemplated the last few steps before continuing. I was so close it would be a pity to back out now. And so I made it to the top! It was perilous – at least for me. I managed to locate the pool. Grabbed a couple of snaps and hightailed it back down albeit with great care and precision with each step.

Whew! I was so hot and my heart was still racing from the ordeals of the beast museum and the tower! Now I needed a cold drink so I headed back out to the Main Street. As luck would have it there was a market underway so I grabbed a drink and a couple of mini soaps as anyone would after a tower climb ordeal when walking a camino. Certainly I couldn’t buy a full size soap could I now?

As I wandered a little further two of the French women from the first Gite caught up behind me as they were also heading for the pool. The difference is they had just walked the full way that morning and had arrived looking actually quite cool calm and collected. There may be something about growing up in the French mountains where a Saturday morning hike is a Tour de Mont Blanc!

Anyway off we went down the hill with the sun blasting up from the stone paths and in from the walls, we continued across the camp ground and past the football field to arrive at the écologique pools. One for wakeboarding (let’s call it a lake) and one for swimming. A concreted lake with a unique filtration system running the water through a planted area to filter impurities and provide chemical free swimming. A strange requirement for men (and women I suppose) – no shorts or bermudas permitted! It seemed this prohibition was even more important than no wine or dogs or even picnics!

Anyway the pool was lovely and fresh although slightly off colour. Nevertheless after being exposed to furnace like heat since arriving in France it was a godsend! My feet were exceptionally grateful and I returned to my Gite a new woman! So a new bunch of pilgrims arrived for the night including the Aussie wanderer from Byron, two Germans and another half dozen french people. Not surprising of course it is France after all!

I arranged to catch a bus a few kilometres out the next morning to limit my return to walking and see how my Achilles coped. I packed weight into a separate bag to send on knowing the less I carried the easier the day would be. So off I went to sleep pondering the beast of Gauvaudan, the Exorcist and the Nun. As you do. Bon nui.