Via Podiensis: the Butterflies of Mirkwood

03 September 2023 Thom Pilgrim Reports, Via Podiensis

There were three of us in the gîte last night: myself, Bruno, and Anne. Anne runs a gîte in Moissac, but she’s taking some time off to walk. We never did actually see the gîte owner here, but she left pretty clear written instructions.

Dinner options in the little town were limited, and we ended up going to a local burger and pizza joint. Had a pretty tasty burger, although I found it interesting that all burgers there came with mozzarella.

I slept like a baby last night, and I woke up today feeling refreshed and energized. The three of us had breakfast together in the gîte, and we didn’t leave until almost 7:30 AM. This time I remembered to fill up my water bottles. If I’m going to make mistakes today, let them be new mistakes!

The morning air was cool and crisp. That wouldn’t last, of course. The heat wave was returning, with temperatures today projected to be in the high 80s, with 80s and 90s for the next week. Not the sort of weather I like to walk in. I suspect there will be a lot of early mornings for me in the days to come.

Roadwalking out of town, of course, but after just a kilometer, we transitioned off to a gravel road which soon became mostly grass, and eventually dirt. This was the program for most of the day. I much prefer these sorts of paths through the woods.

Oh, there were still segments of roadwalking – I feel like it wouldn’t be the Camino in France without it – but it was much reduced over previous days. In fact, it seems that rather than trying to cover any great distance, the road segments were merely there to get you to the next proper path.

Another change today was only one village on the way, and absolutely no pilgrim support! There was literally no place to stop for food between the starting point and the ending point today. Consequently, my pack was much heavier than usual as I had expanded my food stash last night. In retrospect, I may have packed too much. Live and learn.

The terrain today was gentle hills for the most part. There were few big ups or downs, mostly just an undulating path through pasture land and woods.

At one point at about 9 AM, I got to an intersection and could find no markers whatsoever. I was having some flashbacks to yesterday, but eventually I just picked a direction and started walking and found a marker. And then, just a few meters further on, there was another split and there was no marker to be found. At this point Bruno and Anne strolled up and, app in hand, Anne pointed the way.

We were together for a while, but soon lost Anne behind us. Bruno and I arrived in the village of Cras at about 9:45. No café, and even the church was locked up.

It was a little early for lunch, but we stopped on the church steps for some cookies. Anne passed us as we sat, and I left Bruno sitting at the church as I went to find water. Cras isn’t much of a village, but somehow the Camino manages to wind its way down every street. I headed to the Mairie (town hall) where all of the guidebooks assured me was a water source. If it is there, I did not find it, and I walked clear around the building.

At 10 o’clock, I gave up and just started walking on. I had covered about 12.5 km, which meant I was more than halfway through the day.

Later, as I was walking down a dirt road through a forest that gave me serious Mirkwood vibes – all spindly trees wrapped in thick, gray-green moss – I suddenly realized that I had left my Camino shell medal at the gîte when I left this morning.

I was so upset and angry at myself that I actually texted Francine about it. She suggested that perhaps there was somebody walking on the Way behind me who had need of it, and I should let it go. She’s right, of course.

And then, as I was calming down, I was swarmed by a flock of black and purple butterflies. They were absolutely beautiful, And my heart felt lighter at once.

I caught up with Anne at a little stone bridge over a creek. She was putting her shoes on, having set on a convenient stone and soaked her feet for a bit in the creek. This seemed like a capital idea, and I took her spot as she vacated it.

The water was cold! But it was like a tonic to my feet. I finished a sonnet I had been noodling with all morning while sitting there. As I was putting my shoes back on, Bruno walked up, and I turned the spot over to him.

The Camino followed the stream for a while, perhaps a kilometer or two, and eventually crossed back over on another stone bridge. Minutes later, the Camino joined a road, which crossed over again. At this point several tributary had come together and our little stream had graduated into a river.

It was past 11:30 now, and it was definitely beginning to get hot in the sunshine. Every time I thought about putting up the umbrella, the Camino ducked back into the cool of Mirkwood. A little further on, I even found a hiker shelter with a source of potable water.

In the forest, I was constantly beset by butterflies. They would flit out of the shadows and into a sunbeam for a moment, before fluttering back into the shadows. Usually they were orange, or white with black tips or spots, but very occasionally I would see the black and purple ones, or even a bright yellow one. I had noticed some butterflies yesterday as well, but nothing like the quantity today. They added a lovely note to the day’s walk.

In the later part of the walk, whenever I was out in the open I could see tall, impossibly sheer cliffs towering over the forest. The Camino seemed to be heading straight for them.

The Camino ran through the forest alongside a river on my right for a bit, and occasionally there would be impressive stone outcroppings on my left.

It was only when I came to a clearing that I could see the full extent of the geography. The river (and the Camino) ran through the middle of a wide valley, surrounded on both sides by towering stone cliffs. Once back in the forest, none of this was visible.

I briefly met up with Bruno at about a quarter past noon. He and Anne stopped by the side of the trail for a little snack, but I pushed on. I soon passed an old mill. Not in ruins, like those of previous days, but now converted into a small hotel, complete with swimming pool. Somewhere across the river, I could hear the sounds of traffic on a busy road, but I could not see it for the trees.

The Camino eventually turned away from the river and climbed up through the forest, presumably towards some of those cliffs I had been seeing. And then just as quickly, it climbed back down. Now, I was back to the river, down an embankment to the right, and to the left the Camino ran right at the base of some of those cliffs. Nearby were stone ruins that looked like they might have been a hermitage or a chapel at one point.

As I continued walking, I passed occasional houses on my right. These grew more and more frequent until, quite suddenly at about 1:30 or so, I left the forest and abruptly walked into the village of Vers.

With a little help, I found my gîte, but as it didn’t open for another hour and a half, I elected to procure a tasty beverage at a nearby establishment.

I was soon joined by both Anne and Bruno. They are both pushing on the additional 16 km to Cahors. I wished them the very best. It’s a long Camino, and Bruno and I are heading for the same place, so I’m sure we will meet again.

And as for Anne, perhaps I shall stay in her gîte in Moissac. She might even be back there by then.

The gîte is absolutely lovely. I checked in, showered, washed my clothes, and then went down to pray Vespers in the village church, with a statue of Saint Joan of Arc at my elbow.

Today clocked in at 26.1 km. Tomorrow is a half day into the city of Cahors.