We were out into the cool morning before seven, and at 8:15 we were sitting in a bakery, on the harbor in Trébes drinking coffee.
The rains and cold winds from yesterday are gone; it is cloudy but warm and in the next few days the temperatures will push up to 100. So now a huge heat wave is going to hit. Merci!
We are doing something different now.
I got hold of BagaFrance and they are shuttling my pack ahead to each guesthouse. We have a couple bottles of water, Gail’s coat, our passports and phones and money and that’s it. We are hoping that traveling without any weight will bring our pace back up and help Gail’s sore feet.
We want to complete the walk, so we just have to modify it a bit.
Trébes. What a great little town.
And sure enough there in the cute little port of the cute little town was a bakery. I had an almond flaky triangle and two coffees, Gail had "pain aux raisin" and coffee.
And we picked up a fresh baguette “for the road.”
Before we walked out of Trébes we visited the local butcher for cheese and ham (for a later food break). I was able to order slices in French and was really pleased with myself that so far today I had ordered at the bakery and butcher in French without butchering it so much that I sounded like a half baked tourist!
Just out of the port the trail changes. It is a lonely, hot path now; a dirt track with no shade. We pass no other person for 2.5 miles.
After a few miles we hit some trees and the path widens and is more like gravel.
We are at the base of the Pyrenees. There are cliffs on the mountainsides, and the fields of golden grain have given way to vineyards.
As far as we can see it is free range grapes running off to the mountains; kilometer after kilometer of grapes frolicking in the sun.
As we walk, we pass the same people occasionally.
Some cyclists passed us to “Bonjours” and then we walked past them as they discussed some important issue.
“Again us!” He cheerfully called out with a wave the next time by.
Finally, finally we spot a canal barge moving slowly up stream using the canal as god intended it. Where are all the boats?
Just after I thought that, a boat came along going our way. It could barely catch up, but then it did and so I race-walked to much laughter all around.
It took the boat a good half hour to pull away from us and out of sight around a bend.
We got to the village of Marseillette at 10:45. About 100 meters up the street is a bar. We had a white wine, sparkling water, and a beer. The older people chatted among themselves, as the rowdy local young crowd drank way too much. One kid with the nods keeps falling asleep, but keeps waking up with every hiccough. Gail bets he will puke.
Meanwhile the older single guys smoke, watch, and talk quietly in the back.
We sit and drink, eating, watching everyone looking at us.
Today we are walking back at our normal relaxed pace and it is easy. We have time to stop for drinks and we are not groaning when we get up. We walk easily, holding hands, then one of us drifting up or down the trail, ahead or behind, then catching up. We talk, we walk silent in our own thoughts. It is just nice to be together, seeing the details.
Back on the canal, now the trail is hot and exposed, then a shady cool tunnel.
We caught up with the slow boat going our way at 12:15, at Ecluse (lock) de Fonfile. They were lounging about waiting, because the lock keeper was off at lunch. After this lock there was a quick series of locks, all of them with a boat or two waiting.
That was the last we saw of them. They never caught us again.
It’s true. You can walk as fast as a boat. They float faster, but then are stopped by the locks, sometimes for quite a while.
Just after we parted there was a huge sign: the trail is closed.
But it makes no sense. I go around looking for an alternative, but see none. Meanwhile bikers come and go, taking off on roads going here or there.
I look at Gail and shrug, thinking, “We are walking. If there is a huge problem we can surely walk around it somehow.” So we ignore the trail signs, and as several interested cyclists look on, we go on the forbidden path.
Well.
There was one pine tree that fell across the trail, and we easily walked under it. As any bike could have.
We crossed over Pont Cabal and came to the Puicheric Lock. There was a little store selling (we found out) excellent white and rosé wine at €5 a bottle.
So we ordered some up, and made ham and cheese sandwiches from the ingredients we got in Trébes. It was the best lunch ever. And not too much either. It was the perfect place to sit, at a little bistro table in the shade of the lock house, watching a boat go through.
We were almost crying that we could not buy cases of this excellent wine to take home.
So we had another glass. I got the white this time as well, because it was especially floral smelling.
We are ahead of time today, walking back at a normal pace, and it was just so hard to go on. Not because we are sore or stiff but because it is just so damn nice right here.
The lock keeper-slash-store owner gave us each a strawberry to enjoy with the wine.
Oh, the small kindnesses in life.
It is so heartbreaking peaceful here.
And what could cap it off?
A boat passing thru the locks for our entertainment!
The people on the boat looked at us drinking wine, looking at them. We all smiled and waved.
Turns out we would see them again.
We walk, side by side when the trail is wide, one behind the other when it is narrow.
Step after step after step…
It’s funny how distance becomes a measure of time.
Our strides sync, footsteps like the ticking of a clock.
Twelve minutes a kilometer.
Five kilometer an hour.
POOF!
Somehow, step by step, 32 kilometers have passed.
As we walk into La Redorte we pass the Marie (mayors office) and a row of houses with colorful shutters. Then we find Wine Press Park.
Where else but France would you find a city park dedicated to the wine press?
We pass a house where a teenage kid has his music going loud, and he is dancing alone, watching his shadow on the wall. It’s good music, and I kind of jump around on the sidewalk, a dance move or two.
The kid’s friend sees us looking and laughs; the dancing kid stops, embarrassed, but I just laugh and keep on jumping around and he laughs back, shouts and starts dancing again, connecting with me across the yard.
We arrive at our guesthouse at about 3:30 after an easy 16 miles. Today it only took us six hours 45, minus time for beer, wine, eating and relaxing at the lock.
The guesthouse for the night is the La Marelle, an old stone school that was built hundreds of years ago. Our room is big and cool, comfortably furnished, and there are bottles and bottles of cold water stocked in the refrigerator for all the cyclists coming off the canal.
And the occasional walker, though again we are the first she has put up.
My pack is waiting in the room (thank you, BagaFrance!) so we stripped out of our sweaty clothes and went for a swim in the cold pool and nap in the hot sun.
There are two places to eat in the town: a pizza place of course, and La Table de Riquet on the canal. Our hostess called up Riquet to make us a reservation, and we walked back down to the canal for dinner.
It is a beautiful location on a wide spot (port) in the canal, right on the canal itself, overlooking the bridge into town.
I am looking back over the 56 miles we have done so far, Gail is facing towards the 16 we will do tomorrow.
She ordered the warm goat cheese salad. We both love the warm cheese, and this salad was a beauty, sprinkled with fresh flowers. Visually it was spectacular, taste-wise it was just OK.
I had the prawns sautéed in cognac with frites; the fries were hot and perfect, the prawns nothing special.
But big fucking deal, we are enjoying sitting here as the light changes to yellow on the trees along the water.
We are here and earned it.
The café gourmand for dessert was lovely tonight.
We sat after dinner slowly sipping our wine and then coffee, before wandering back to the guesthouse.
We need to start early tomorrow, it is supposed to be ten degrees warmer and we’d like to finish before it hits 90.
*Today’s post is dedicated to my close friends Kenny, Eric, Rachel, Derek, Lena and Rachel.
Today: 16 miles walking
62 miles in four days.