October 4. Vezelay.

First, we want to send our congratulations to nephew Thomas and his bride Sarah on their wedding. We sadly couldn’t attend but we are thinking of them as they embark on this new journey together!

These beds in the hotel are totally symbolic of what occupies Terry’s mind (on the left) and what occupies Ken’s mind (on the right) during this walk.  Rhetorical question: who is having a better time?

Pouring rain this morning. We’re glad not to be walking.

The basilica in Vezelay is the official start to the Via Lemovicencis (or Voie de Vezelay), one of 4 nationally recognized routes through France to Santiago in Spain.  As such, it has an actual pilgrim office.

These arches remind us of the grande mosque in Cordoba, Spain; the stripes remind us of the Moorish influence.

A wooden pilgrim.

In 1946, after the war,

The translation into English. Very poignant, I thought. I lit my candle in front of the German prisoners’ cross.

My candle for Ethel.

I went out hoping the rainwater was pouring through gargoyles but it was only stone spouts. Sorry, Ruth.

Peter is a little soggy.

You can barely make out the village we walked up from yesterday.

Everything in this store is made from recycled metal car parts. What’s that you ask? Did I buy something? Well. Yes. Yes, I did.

Huge puppers in the restaurant.

Strange little peppers on my salad, smaller than a grape.

Pilgrim in the fireplace at our hotel.

I took an evening walk.

I was the only person in the church. I have to admit that it felt so different than earlier in the day when it was filled with people…almost magical.

Ken had to try the beer brewed in Vezelay

Another successful and lucky day in that we were warm, dry and well fed in Vezelay instead of slogging it out on a soggy bush trail or climbing a hill that Scott insists is just a small incline!