October 23. Perigueux to St. Astiers. 24.57 km for Ken and Scott.

Terry took a break from walking today, wandered around town for a bit, then caught a taxi to our next town.  I was going to take the train but ALL the trains were cancelled for some reason. The taxi driver kept trying to talk to me but his phone never stopped ringing…likely because there were no trains.

Ken left first, his first foray on his own with the Camino app and MapMyWalk. Look how hopeful he looks. He did well, other than leaving his wallet at a bar…which maybe doesn’t qualify as doing well  😀

Scott left an hour later, complaining he didn’t get any sleep  because of the two people snoring in the bed below.  Now who could that have been?

This church is unusual because of its many domes but I couldn’t get any good pictures of them.

For Momma Mary F. I hope she is enjoying the sunshine where she is at. 🌞

The remains of an ancient Roman arena.

Okay. I know it’s an invasion of privacy. But the way people here hold conversations with their neighbours through their windows just resonates with me. Quintessentially French…and no phones needed.

An automobile club that has been in existence since 1898.  Not 1998. 1898. Ken wants to join.

Ken is appreciative of free toilets along the way. I was more taken with the carpet of leaves.

Our familiar shell.

Scott caught up with Ken about halfway, in time to share Ken’s lunch of a chocolate bar and half an orange.

A little damp today.

It’s unusual to see such statues standing individually at the war memorials.

The bar in question. Ken didn’t actually leave without his wallet. He realized he didn’t have it while he was still sitting outside with his beer and Scott tried to bum some money from him. The young lady proprietor had it in her hand as soon as he walked in with that “lost my wallet” look on his face. Good people there.

This was the seductive glass of beer that distracted Ken from his wallet.

The way these poplars were planted really reminded Ken of the Commonwealth graveyards we saw so many of earlier.  Sort of a sense of peace and dignity in these groves.

The rivers and creeks are all over flowing given Storm Benjamin”s visit.

The grandparents and kids picking walnuts (probably) reminded Ken of that old painting called The Gleaners.

A really expensive footbridge that just ends in a small footpath.

I’ve arrived in St. Astier before the boys.

This is the Isle River, in full spate. The noise of this was amazing and I watched large stumps bobbing along in the current.

Here come the boys across the bridge.

Beware the man wielding a baguette like a weapon! Ken was hobbling badly by this point as he says he might have pulled his groin like the Arrogant Worms song says. Figure he’ll heal by tomorrow as he is so tough. (Insert Terry eye roll here).

The church campanile lit up in pink.

Imagine coming into your apartment in small town France and seeing a wall mural of Maligne Lake – a little bit of home.

Supper was cobbled together from the shopping spree at the local Lidl – chicken Cordon Bleu, frozen veggies and gnocchi.  We are always trying to book at least 2 days ahead as not all of the pilgrim places are open. Fingers crossed that we get a positive reply to my request to stay with a pilgrim host family. If not, we will have to regroup as the train only goes about 15 minutes from here and then cuts away from the Camino route. We would again be faced with a too long walk. We are here for two nights.