Hiking El Camino in Spain had become popular, many would say too popular. I’d been told stories of miserable food, crowded guest houses, bedbugs, and, gross as this is, outbreaks of scabies. Now most of this was told to me by a woman from France who clearly had a dog in the El Camino de Compostello vs. Le Chemin de Compostelle fight. But I did have friends who complained of long dusty road walking in Spain and fairly boring food choices on a trip shortly before I started planning mine.
French food or possible scabies? I went with Le Chemin despite most sources saying the French trail is 30 to 50% more expensive than El Camino. They also said the French trail was considerably prettier with much better accommodations. I opted for good food and no parasites. It seemed worth the extra cash. Plus I’d save on the toxic lotions to rid myself of tunneling insects under my skin. What I did not know was that I’d have an encounter with a very different tunneling insects on Day 1 of my trip.
I did some web searches and started reading about what the French government terms GR65, a fairly dry bureaucratic term for a beautiful ancient hiking trail. France has GRs (grande randonnées) and PRs (petite randonnées) – long hiking trails and shorter hiking trails that crisscross the country. GR65 is the trail goes from Le Puy-en-Valey in the central mountains of France to the Spanish border where El Camino starts in France at Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port.
Le Chemin de Compostelle, the GR65, is one of several medieval pilgrimage trails in France that lead to El Camino and the Cathedral of St. James on the Spanish coast. And, in reality, the path of GR65 extends northwest to Germany and The Netherlands. There is a similar trail that goes to Paris and one that goes along the Pyrenees Mountains along the southern border of France that connects to a trail in Italy. They are all Le Chemins de Compostelle. They all connect to El Camino. The government numbers help keep them straight.
Pilgrims in Europe seem to have been avid hikers, and I have to wonder if they were double dipping on earning religious merit while getting to be on the trail, away from medieval village life, much like we do today although without the UL gear, an AWOL Guide or Guthook, and a smartphone that we survive on. Hiking has always been an adventure away from the wearing routines of daily life.
Although neither Catholic or religious, I made my way to the cathedral in Le Puy, a town famous for the extra good lentils they grow, I’m serious, and a giant imposing statue of the Virgin Mary on top of a big hill that dwarfs everything below, even more serious. The statue has a nice story. It is the melted remains of cannons from World War 1, a war that literally ripped Europe apart socially, politically, and financially. Nonetheless, the giant statue is not very attractive but is symbolically beautiful.
I got to Mass late and missed the distribution of the folder where you get stamps from towns and hostels and the blessing of the local bishop. This is kind of a must do for many, not all, hikers who start at Pe Puy. Hiking on Le Chemin is still serious business for the Church. The bishop blesses hikers every day. I was sad to have missed it although I have to admit the entire meaning of blessing people or things is a giant mystery to me.
I was fortunate to meet 2 very kind nuns who showed me around the cathedral and gave me “the credential” despite there being a rule that you must go to Mass to get one. Nuns tend to be renegades and these sisters were no exception. You use the credential to collect stamps and some guest houses give discounts for religious hikers. You turn it in in St. James Cathedral in Spain for some special blessing and an official pilgrim certificate.
Most hikers these days are hikers but there are still many religious pilgrims. Everyone gets along just fine although you are frequently asked about your status, hiker or pilgrim? It seems to be the icebreaker question. I was very much of the hiker category but stopped at many of the shrines and churches along the trail. Everyone does. Maybe we are all pilgrims or seekers of some type even if we don’t know it. Anyone who has spent 4 decades backpacking like I have is looking for something, right?
In 2016, a kid from New Jersey who was thru hiking the AT asked me what was so screwed up about me that I was attempting an AT thru hike. From a guy who looked to be 16 or 17, it felt it to be a profound question at the moment. It still does.
I hiked with my backpack for over 300 miles on GR65 and several side trails that went to other religious pilgrimage sites such as the Shrine of Our Lady of Rocamadour – a church at the the top of a village built into the side of a cliff (village perché). You climb hundreds of stone stairs to get there which was done on your knees back in the time of the plague even by 2 kings of France and a king of England. Many of the side trails were dozens of miles long. France is covered in well maintained hiking trails. Europeans love to hike.
Rocamadour also has a great local goat cheese. France has more cheeses than days if the year and I’ve never met one I didn’t like.
Now hiking is hiking the world around. So there are many strangers meeting new friends and forming social networks and talk about other hiking trips and various orthopedic aches and pains. I developed a trail family for about 2 weeks. None of them spoke much English and my French is limited to about that of a 3 or 4 year old. Despite that, we had a blast together until the other 3 headed their separate ways and I continued to the southeast.
My French is functional. I can get a room or order food, no problem, but people seemed insistent that I discuss Trump. There are times when you are happy your communication skills are limited to essential topics and times when you just pretend you don’t understand.
There are limited camping locations on GR65. Some people kind of stealth camp but, being a visitor in France, I limited myself to legal campgrounds, typically in the middle of a village that forced me to worry about petty theft every time I left my camp. Most of the time, however, I stayed in gîtes (hostels but a lot nicer than most AT hostels) with real beds, showers for each room, and big communal dinners.
My husband is from France and I’ve learned over the past 25 years to love French food. Their food really is just amazing, even bar food. Typically it isn’t too expensive unlike the cost of French food in the USA. My dinners were at the hostels and lunch was usually cheese or French salami and baguette that I would buy in some village. Life on the GR65 is pretty great!
There are exceptions to all rules, however.
Day 1 of my trip ended at an especially fancy hostel. My private room had a beautiful view of farms and mountains. The room was actually too elegant for me. Dinner was excellent – beef burgundy and a nice salad with unlimited French bread. The French serve cheese after the meal. As I finished my dinner devouring the last of my cheese and baguette, the owner came out to explain the local cuisine. I missed much of what she was saying. It was sort of advanced descriptions of cooking and food. Sitting next to me was a nice German woman who spoke perfect English and French. She gave me a summary of what she considered the key, and very nauseating, point about our meal. The cheese we just ate had microscopic insects in it. Tunneling cheese insects. Essentially cheese scabies, technically cheese mites. That cheese was the pride of the locals. I smiled and mumbled something about it being good, which it was. The German gave me a supportive smile and seemed as uncomfortable with eating live insects as I was. France can be more exotic than people give it credit for, but the cheese-bug combo was quite good.
To be continued…
Tripping Along The Trail 