Day 13: Cajarc to Limogne-en-Quercy
- Simon Pollack
- May 9, 2024
- 3 min read
Updated: Jun 29, 2024
The natural way of things being that the female deer hurries ahead
The sorry stag follows behind her, his antlers bowing his head
But when she chooses to let him, he proudly reaches her flank
And off she will leap to leave him, floundering breathless to pant
9 May 2024, Thursday
Distance hiked 19.1km (11.9m) | Ascent 778m |
Hot hot hot. Now we are in typical, maybe even hotter, temperatures for the time of year. 27 degrees all day and a bright sun. Much more pleasant than the cold and rain but with its own challenges. But at least I hydrated well today!
Sarah dropped us at Cajarc to start the walk, her place being several kms from the Chemin. It was very pleasant all day, good views, some reasonable inclines etc but I’m getting used to these now. The muscles, and the heart & lungs, are in much better shape.
And, hold on, what’s that? No rubbing pain? My lord, I seem to have got beyond the blisters on my left foot that were a bane since day 3. It was the damp and the soaking, more than sweatiness, that brought them on, and now we are in better shape altogether with nice dry shoes.
I think there is a country kilometre in France to parallel our country mile. We hiked over to Limogne-en-Quercy, a sweet little town, around 19 klicks I think. By the way I’d planned these relatively short days because Cat suggested she wanted to do modest distances to begin with as I’d be on form but she wouldn’t be. As it turned out she bound ahead like a deer, in her kilt and bright orange trainers (she’s unique in many ways), as she always did, while I huffed and puffed behind. It was quite amusing to reach a little pitstop in the middle of nowhere, St Jean de Laur, some 10 minutes after her. Guess what: there were the cousins. These recurring encounters are so rich – you never know if your goodbye is forever or just till tomorrow, so if it is tomorrow then there is such joy! Anyway as I rolled up the guys told me this bounding woman in a kilt had overtaken them and now was taking photos of them as I arrived. Cat, meet the boys...
Anyway, happiness equals reality minus expectations. Later on we got into Limogne with instructions from our chambres d’hôtes host Stig that his place, Mas d’Aubrac, is a kilometre from the town. It was 3kms, down a busy road. So even though it was still a short day it felt that much more straining for the time we spent failing to meet expectations. Turns out it is 1km exactly from the mas to the edge of the village, via a track we couldn’t have known about. And the village centre is another kilometre or more through the streets.
We had met some pilgrims by the names of Sebastien, Silvie and Sophie earlier in the day. They weren’t a group except by random encounter, but they were very pleasant. Seb had done a couple of days of 45km and 56km (56!!!!!). He was a mad Marseille supporter (Allez OM!) and was making time to watch their home and away UEFA league semi-final legs against Munich. Anyway they told us about a gastronomy fayre in Limogne this evening. Turned out to be quite the event (live music, of lowish quality I must admit, tons of food stalls, and probably a thousand people which must have doubled the population).
Stig (English: looks like a Viking, ergo Stig) is a dude who was very welcoming. As was his Swiss wife Irina, a lawyer turned vocal coach. We were their first clients this year at the Mas. Very authentic feel, Stig being thoroughly naturalised over 30 years (and owns property in SE Spain, too, where he often winters). He showed us the back way into the village so we could eat at the rather nice restaurant Le Jardin (where we bumped into Nathalie and Gilles!). We wandered round the food stalls and made sure we finished while it was still light so we could get back to our bed for a wonderful night’s sleep.
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