Boissezon- Castres 5th Aug

This morning a mountain storm seems to herald the finish of this trek. After starting through the forest, towards Castres, the storm becomes fury of lightening and thunder. It is time to stop, to retrace steps to the village and the safety of the hostel. We know that this is it for this trek, and we are content to stop here.

A summary of findings is difficult to encapsulate: this loss of time, or rather it's constraints, it's constructs has been an education in itself. Free of those things we feel most necessary in daily city lives- words, goals, egotism- we have found hidden stores of things we hope for in those very same things. We have moved freer without them-things of value in the city, which are burdens here. The loss of time's constraints has increased our awareness of things around us. 7 days feel like 4 weeks.

We have cooked great meals in empty hostels, using what was there- creativity, art! Our senses are acute, our bodies purged, our minds clear.

In Castres, we stay at the house of a most extraordinary human being. He is 87, a retired doctor, still active as head of an association aiding pregnant women in distress. In the morning I discover more. He is a survivor of the concentration camp of Dachau. A young French resistant, he was deported there at 19 years of age. His testimony astonishes me:

In the middle of such horrors, he found an inner joy that he has guarded all his life. In giving himself totally to the moment of each passing day; when he had reconciled himself to the Benevolence that we all hope for, there was no more fear.

This inner joy radiates from him. This despite losing two wives for reasons of long illnesses. He presents me with a book, which chronicles this journey.

Salvetat-sur-Agout - Anglés: 20 klms, 3 Aug

We pass through a few forests, on what will be a relatively easy day. Right on the side of the path, we find a neo-lithic `menhir' of about 6 feet. The `menhirs' (from the Celtic Breton: maen-stone; hir-tall), date between the megalithic and neolithic periods in Europe (4500 and 2500 before our civilisation), which predates them to Celtic settlement in Europe. Interestingly, they are found not only in Europe, but Africa, Asia and other continents. The largest concentration of these have been found in the valleys of l'Herault, from where we have hiked.

For more click here:

http://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Menhir

On a few occasions, we see deer gliding alongside us in the denser part of the forest. Such an amazing sight to behold; such elegance in movement, as we `bipeds' trudge along.

We arrive at Anglés in time to share our picnic with Thierry and Dominique, two men from Provence, who had previously been a party of three, before an injury ruled one out. Afterwards, we bid our good-byes to them, as they head off to meet their deadlines. Such an approach is different to mine, but I respect all orientations to this way, as it allows for all, and still bestows a common understanding that brings different people together.

These villages are sleepy to say the least, and the lack of civic pride does no justice to the magnificant countryside around them. Again, there are few places to buy provisions, and we must wait until 5pm for the small grocery to open. The gite (hostel) is the dirtiest we have encountered, with scores of dead flies everywhere and walls that need good cleaning.

Despite such small inconveniences, we decide to cook the rigatoni we find there, along with an idea to make  `veau marengo'-the celebrated dish served to Napoleon, after the battle of Marengo. It is shared with two Belgien hikers we have met, a father and son team, who appreciate the meal, as they cannot cook. It is washed down with a nice bottle of Gaillac 2009 (Chateau Clement Termes). My smile meter is back to 8/10

Click here for the recipe:

http://www.cuisine-france.com/recipes/veau-marengo.htm

Rest Day- Salvetat-sur-Agout 2nd August

We, or more appropriately, our bodies, decide to take a rest day. I sleep for 10 hours and feel the soreness throbbing, as it leaves me. My senses have become more acute, and during the night, I tasted the bitter `sulphites' (pesticide) in the local wine.The diet high in fibres/whole grains, beans, vegetables, and water, appears to be doing it's job. My palette is cleansed and I can smell the herbs, pines, and wild berries, along the track.

The day is spent at the local lake, where `normal' holiday-makers are swimming and boating. Usually, I refrain from such breaks from the ethos of this hike, but this time I am ok with it. I don't feel that any frontier or barrier has been crossed. I appreciate it for what it is- very restorative.

At night, the left-over pasta is eaten with some `poulet fermier'( free-range chicken), and we promenade like all the other villagers.

Muret le Vebre- Salvetat-sur-Agout: 22klms, 1st Aug

Another early morning start, the adaptive breakfast of muesli, milk, yoghurt, honey, and fruit, providing the fuel for the morning. Despite the weather forecast for another hot day, the overcast conditions help. I am wearier and the sciatic pain is increasing in the lower of my back and buttocks. This sort of nagging pain, interlaced with sharp, shooting, pain, saps the energy.

We pass beautiful pastures, forests and lakes. There is no one around, and we have `le parc naturel du Haut Languedoc' to ourselves. To be in such nature, alone, is a remarkable thing. We humans are such paradoxical beings: to require such splendid solitude from humanity, to become more human, more of who we really are,i is quite strange. The philosopher might say that the subject needs the object, which shapes him through association. Therefore, if the environment changes, it would follow that the subject changes too. One experiences this fundamental shift/change in such surrounds. The question remains: how one might sustain such `being` back in the daily city environment?

Some basics come to mind in sustaining this annual `pilgrimage', as a daily way of life. After all, it is called `Le Chemin' (The Way), and in other times was used as an experiential learning method-an analogous experience to inform daily life. The daily trials and joys of the trail are like those of our daily lives. For me, the trail reminds that we are common in such things; that sharing a common ground of understanding makes for better days (and nights). This then is the fraternity to which we all belong, but to which we have become estranged in our modern, isolated, and egoistic or fear-driven pursuits.

The rituals that recreate this experience are also simple, basic ones:

• The sharing of home-cooked meals and conversation at night, without the distraction of television
• Waking earlier to tranquillity and healthier, fibre-filled, breakfasts
• Greater physical activity to reduce stress and increase elimination of toxins
  
  

We arrive in Salvetat-sur-Agout to find the famous spring where this renowned, bottled water, comes from. It is strange to find little mention of the fact. At night, I find some left over pasta in the gite and decide to cook it along with some chilli con carné. I invite new found hiker friends, but they are intent on eating at the local café. Not everyone appreciates such simple pleasures, and that's ok, as it has taken me a lifetime to do so. We wash down this feast with a bottle of the local Saint Chinian (cepages: Carignan, Syrah, Grenache, Mourvèdre)  red wine-all very restorative, when cooked with good intent.

Joncel/ Le Bousquet D'Orb- St. Gervais Sur-Mare, 26klms, 30th July

We are driven to Le Bouquet D'Orb by our host, just so that we can buy some provisions for the march and dinner this evening. As such, it is a late start at 8:45AM, which is a concern in front of the coming 30+ degree heat of the day.

Once more, there is an obligatory steep climb of an hour out of the valley. I am perspiring freely, and weary, despite the good breakfast. The French diet of white bread and coffee is not great, especially for hikers; and so, this time I have brought along my muesli. I take a bowl of this each morning, with a tub of yoghurt, honey and slices of fruit. The difference is amazing in terms of sustained energy. However, today this does not seem sufficient, and I am getting irritable. I have learned to look for these signs and realise that I have not been drinking enough water.

What follows is a day of climbing and descending through mountain passes, with breath-taking valleys below.

It feels like we have the whole region to ourselves, and pass only two hikers coming the other way- a rare occurrence. Five hours continuous hiking, which makes us realise that the years of hiking do have a cumulative effect. This is evidenced by the fact that we are completely listening to our bodies on this trip.

We have decided to surrender to our daily notions of time and it's associated anxieties of being somewhere at a certain time. What emerges are expanded senses of being and a greater connection with our surroundings. At this point, we surrender ourselves to the connection of things more intrinsic- that which we lose in daily city lives.  At the end of this trip, we discover that this `loss of time' , or transcendence over it's mental construction, gives us the sense that we have been on this adventure for weeks rather than 7 days. One experiences this sometime on holidays, and I am convinced that this type of `meditation' is what we lack back in busy, stress-filled lives.

We discover an ancient Wisigoth settlement- a path aligned by big rocks (see photo), the only vestiges that remain. This migratory Germanic tribe made its way along the Southern European coast, through Southern Italy, and then Southern France (Provence, Pyrenees, Toulouse, Narbonne). Around 500AD after losing battles against the Francks and Clovis, they settled in this region of Languedoc, before migrating further into Spain, establishing their capital at Toledo; that is, just before the Arab conquest.

Lunch is spent in the middle of a grassy track, with the vista of mountain passes before us. A wonderful siesta follows.

We arrive at St Gervais sur Mare and are surprised to find a really good bakery, which has people from all nearby villages as clients. Amazingly, we find complex cereal bread, which is otherwise missing in this whole region.

After buying our provisions we settle in the `gite' (hostel) totally alone, and I am inspired to cook an `escalope de veau' (veal). At each gite one finds provisions left by others, and it has become a creative challenge, and one based on sustainable values, to cook something using these abandoned provisions. There is not a drop of oil or butter, so I decide to make a marinade from beer, the malt combining well with the flavour of the meat. Along with a ratatouille- with the wild herbs we have gathered- the result is a fantastic meal (see photo). This is really what invigorates: a good hike, good food, and company. Can we ask for more? Smile meter, at 8/10, says it all.

Lodéve - Joncel 24klms 29th July

Another 6AM start, as we climb out of the valley to 900m+. Magnificant verdant, pastoral, vistas great us, as we climb above the timberline. Stoney paths make the hiking difficult, as rocks slide underfoot, however, we are grateful for the shade provided by the forest.

We set a sportive pace ahead of the guide book and arrive by noon at Joncel, having taken no stops. That makes 6 hours straight, which is quite tiring. However, as often happens on this trail, we find a most hospitable hostel, complete with pool.

This is just what the doctor ordered, as the pool provides much relief from aching legs and backs. The sun is blazing. We discover that Joncel was an important stop for pilgrims of the past, however, today, there is nothing to occupy interest, no grocery stores, or even a bakery. Small villages like this across France suffer the same fate-villagers now must drive to bigger villages to get their provisions. One wonders how the elderly get along, despite the bread vans that arrive twice a week, with not the freshest produce. We also note very elderly drivers of cars, many of whom should not be still driving.

I continue to experience bodily `purging', which is making me feel better, the high intake of water, lentils, chick peas, and fruit providing the `detox'. However, tonight our hosts provide a three course meal consisting of chicken liver salad, calamari and rice, followed by desert.

The company around the table provides great warmth and I am reminded how fortifying this experience has been through over 1200 klms that I have hiked along this trail. Joining us are three men from Provence, all friends: a banker, an insurance broker and another of unknown profession. They are doing this for the first time, and it is clear that one of them has not had much physical preparation. I recall my own first time, filled with uncertainty and lack of preparation. At least, a life time of sport gave me some basis, however, many just head off. To each, his own!

My smile meter is steady at 7/10

St. Jacques de la Blaguiere- Lodeve 15klms 28th July

A short stage after a big day yesterday. We leave early again and climb for one hour, before coming to a village that features a cemetery with a collection of ``stèles’’-Medieval headstones carved from limestone. These appeared all over Europe and symbolized the Greek cross and various other religious symbols. We pass corrals of the most beautiful pure blood Arabe horses and discover that Languedoc is renowned for such breeding. A favourite sport is ``L’endurance’’- races of between 20-160klms within 24hrs, or 2x100klms in two days. The health of the horse is of prime concern, with many checks along the way. As a result, it is a test of management/judgement and understanding between rider and horse.

On a rocky cliff we find a labyrinth of rocks, fashioned by someone to resemble a swirl. Some in our informal group think it to be a Buddhist mandala, while others believe it a Christian labyrinth-all paths meet at certain points! Later we discover that a huge Tibetan monastery exists near Lodeve.

 Along the way, there are beautifully verdant valleys, vineyards and forests, providing a rare mix of arid and mountain climates. We arrive in Lodeve in time for the bustling Saturday market and set about the task of finding whole grain breads, best for hikers. Sadly the region is bereft of such bread, but here there is plenty. Lodeve was a haven for hippies in the 60’s, and still retains that ambiance.

We see people of alternative lifestyles from all over Europe here- a hippy holiday perhaps? Our dinner is shared with two fellow hikers: Chloe, a young Frenchwoman who spent time in an Indian utopian city, Auroville (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Auroville); and, Emmanuella, a young German undertaking a PHD in sustainable development. Such are the diverse range of people one meets on this road.

We have an aperitif by the bank of the nearby river. Dinner is contributed to by all and consists of lentilles cooked with bacon, onions, carrots and a salad. A nice rosé washes it down, before some watermelon. Such a diet, including large quantities of water, along with the hiking produces an improved digestion and purification.

Smile meter is 8/10 improved by the company of interesting people.

St Guilhem de la Desert- St. Jacques de la Blaguiére 25 klms 27th July

A new year and new adventure along this mythical path. Recent illness and the daily stresses of life are not an ideal psychological starting point for the ordeal ahead. The previously adopted approach of `taking it a day at a time’ and listening to the body, will prove appropriate in the following days. Here in the region of Languedoc, the temperatures are over 30 degrees, keeping most hikers away. We decide on a strategy of leaving very early each day, hoping to arrive at staging villages by 2PM max. The climate will incredibly range, almost daily, between the dry Mediterranean and humid continental. Like many villages in France, St. Guilhem de la Désert is enriched with history. Before becoming a monk and then a saint, Guilhem was a famous warrior and favoured cousin of Charlemagne, having a Frankish lineage of Carolinian (mother) and Merovingian (father). According to history, he ably defended the region, and Spanish border, from the Saracens, eventually marrying one of their Princesses, before finding this `oasis’ (best, sweetest, natural water I have tasted), and ironically called it a `désert’. His story seems to follow a familiar, romantic, progression of the times: a noble (Count of Toulouse, Count of Montpellier), feared warrior, who marries his enemy's daughter, before becoming a monastic (probably appreciated the rest). We leave the village at 6:15AM, climbing steeply to get out of the valley of limestone Mountains (la vallée de l’Hérault). The air is cool, but tinged with the threat of heat. I am perspiring tremendously through the effort, and all sorts of foul smelling toxins start fleeing through every pore-hopefully a good sign, provoking me to drink more of that sweet water collected earlier in the village. The invigorating aromas of wild rosemary and thyme fill the air, and so I collect a large quantity of both to be used in cooking and herbal teas along the hike. I sense that this whole hike will help restore the balance between body, mind, and general well-being. We pass a Neolithic enclosure of rocks, which have somehow stood the test of time, still looking like someone just constructed it. Stepping inside the cool, man-made grotto of rocks, one feels transported in time. The ruins of Chateau Montepeyroux loom nearby, near the celebrated vineyard that now bears its name (AOC-appellation d'origine controlée- the cepages consist of Mourvèdre, Syrah, Carignan, and Grenache. We later learn that the harsh sun and dry Southern climate produces a thicker grape skin, which gives the wine its strong tannin). La Castellas, Canton of Gignac, was founded in 1070 by a descendant of Guilhem, Bernard, before being partially destroyed by the English in 1384, during the 100 Years War. The sheer thought of such history is tiring, on top of the burden of climbing, laden with packs, for 7 hours in high temperatures. We are relieved to reach St. Jacques de la Blaguiére, with a smile meter of 7/10 points.