The walk was to be short so I took my time to leave at 10AM although my suitcase was downstairs by 8AM. Thank you Veronique for making my stay pleasant. She checked me in, took my dinner order, stamped my credentials, answered every question that I had, and pointed me in the right direction to pick up the route.
Almost immediately, I sensed a change in the wind. It was much cooler. I later found out the high temperature for the day was 68F. That was down 20 degrees from the day before and the average high during my Chemin.
With the wind, it felt like an air conditioner was going full blast. Other pilgrims reacted to the change — fewer shorts on men, some women still wore them. Several pilgrims wore longer sleeved t-shirts or lightweight jackets. The forecast for the rest of my time on the road is for highs in the 60s. But who knows. Surely beats the high 80s. I just might end up using the long sleeve t-shirts and my puffy jacket after all.
The path was straightforward today — a few long uphills and mostly paved or smoothed over dirt roads. I included a sign of the Chemin from the Condom Commune, a scarecrow dressed in white, a vineyard that produces Ugni Blanc grapes for Armagnac, and a slope that shows the darkness of the cloud cover. All in all, the day went smoothly, almost like a rest day.
I reached the village limits of Montréal, not Quebec but -du-Gers ahead of time. This road morphed into the village’s main street. The road was long, straight, and narrow. I almost reached the town square when my small hotel appeared. It was 2:30. No one answered the doorbell so I called the number posted to the wall. “Oui, monsieur. Attendez. Cinq minutes.” Yes, Madame Geraldine appeared shortly from down the street.
We carried on in French. We exchanged our names. I said, “Enchantée. C’est un plasir de faire votre connaissance.” Madame smiled and softened. Blossom Dearie was right to give’m the oo-la-la. If Napoleon did at Waterloo, it would have changed the history of France.
Boots off, hiker poles in the basket. She gave me an old fashioned key; showed me the room and the breakfast area. Dinner by the main square at a restaurant at 7PM; breakfast at 7:30AM.
My room was on the “0” floor or rez-de-chaussée. I did not have to lug my suitcase upward for a change. The room was different from others on this trip. A single bed but very roomy. There was a very comfortable leather chair with an ottoman. I loved putting my feet up to read for a change. Getting in early gave me time to rest my legs after two 20 milers the previous days.
I arrived promptly for dinner and seated myself at the back of the restaurant. Then, Stu and Cheryl took the table next to mine. They spoke English with what seemed to be an American accent. Nope. Canadians from Calgary, Alberta. The western Canadian accent is like our Midwestern-California accent. I asked to join them for dinner and here we were together. The two tables where we originally sat are behind them.
Stu is still working as a psychiatrist but is contemplating retirement. Cheryl is a retired high school teacher. Stu is biking and Cheryl is hiking. They started in Le Puy.
Our conversation was lively. They are loyal Canadians and stated strong opinions about you know who. They like their prime minister and how he is navigating the current world politics. That topic out of the way, we talked about the Chemin, philosophy of life, and World Heritage sites. I was proud to say that Bethlehem is a World Heritage site. We looked at the list for Canada. Three sites are in Alberta and nearby Calgary.
The menu dinner was good. I forgot to take a photo of mussels baked in a cream sauce similar to chicken à la king, baked chicken, and a dessert of cake with a scoop of ice cream. Of course, I ended with Armagnac.
I was pleasantly relaxed. Went to bed early and woke up to the sad news that the Phillies were eliminated from the MLB playoffs. I was hoping for a Phillies-Dodgers series.
