Go past the field with the donkeys and turn right to walk down through the vineyard to get back on your trail. That’s not something your car GPS will ever tell you but those were the instructions from our hosts.
Can we just leave him in there?
The grape vines have been stripped bare.
Two typical aloof French cats.
A Camino sign. The fine print says “you are here. You can rest in 1020 km!
A random water fountain with a dog bowl, which Ken kindly cleaned out and refilled. He’s a nice boy.
These sad looking little cypress trees remind me of the Via Francigena in Tuscany.
Big hill ahead.
Ancient tower beside a modern radio tower. We’ll see these again from the other side of the Dordogne River.
Nature already decorating for Christmas.
This incredibly steep long downhill was a bit scary and caused my almost healed foot to rebel.
Ste Foy la Grande on the Dordogne River. We will walk south to the Garonne River. Our hosts said the locals refer to the land between these rivers “from sea to sea”. Bordeaux wines come from here.
Ken was blinded by the bright colours.
You can see Ken’s red tree in the distance.
Scott waiting patiently while we stock up on chocolate bars in the Tabak.
I chatted with the gentleman selling these flowers (I would have bought so many if I could have – they were gorgeous). He gave me a “bravo” for walking the Chemin de Saint Jacques.
Scott led us to the only open restaurant, a kebab place. So…toilet paper is often an issue as most places we stay in give less than a roll so we have to carry some….and we were running out. The kebab place had none either but I snooped through their cupboard and replaced their empty roll. Then stole one for us. But don’t worry. I confessed my felony when I was paying and the guy just laughed and said no problem.
That’s a big bottle of wine!
Ken thought this house looked very angry.
Another memorial to resistance fighters executed by the Germans. I usually use the term Nazi rather than German but this memorial specifically used the term Germans, which is a little unusual.
I told Scott a real pilgrim would have crossed by the log rather than a modern bridge but he ignored me.
Bananas and palm trees. I hear it is snowing at home.
You can see the two towers we passed by earlier in the morning.
He was too lazy to actually stand up and bark at us.
Ken’s reflection in the gravestone.
Hmmmm. The bell rope. Hmmmm.
Terry: Should I or Shouldn’t I?
Little devil on the left shoulder: Yes, yes, you should.
Little French devil on right shoulder (in a heavy French accent): Oui, reeng zee bell!
So I did!
Do I look contrite? Scott wanted to know if bell ringing was on my bucket list. I told him no but now I was going to put it on the list just so I could cross it off.
Baa baa black sheep…
French fighter jet – Ken figures a trainer jet.
Hunters everywhere. It’s very disconcerting as they hunt near towns and residences. It’s very controlled – many have signs on them, some have flashing lights. But they do tick me off. They travel in groups and park at the corners of vineyards and are in constant communication, then they let the dogs out. Poor wild animals have no chance whatsoever. Not a sport here. Gun shots all around.
I stopped to talk to this British couple who were exploring the area.
Gotta love mud. By this time, my foot is extremely unhappy.
I got very worried when I saw these three little guys. They moved into the vineyard and hunkered down, and I didn’t hear any shots, but…they just get trapped with no where to run or hide especially with the leaves coming off the vines. I’m not against hunting in general but this doesn’t seem right.
They are hiding here.
I limped into the yard of our next place for the night. Nothing brightened me up more than finding there were two resident cats.
Paula the cat spent the night with us. The cats were left outside for two nights but obviously are allowed in the house.
Our hosts were away so they hid the keys “under the stone sink in front of the frog pond” and we were to leave the money in the bathroom drawer when we left. Very trusting. I spent the night wondering if I could walk the next day and wondering what to do if I couldn’t. (Spoiler alert – I’ve continued walking)
VF Britannica Via Campaniensis Voie de Vezelay 2025 