November 6. Sauveterre-de-Bearn to Saint-Palais. 16.72 km.

Jeremy stamped our passports for us. He works from home and actually delayed his morning ZOOM meeting so we wouldn’t have to be so rushed in the morning. Every place has their own unique pilgrim stamp – Jeremy’s is based on the palm tree in his yard.

Go left then right then down. Then you can walk around on the road or take the stairs. Or…wait across the street for a while and a bus will take you straight to Saint’Palais. I think Ken actually considered it for a minute! Or maybe 2.

This is one of the saddest most poignant war memorials we’ve ever seen, comparable to Vimy Ridge, both with heart-rending depuctions of a woman’s grief. The other is in Jougne, France, which we saw on the Via Francigena, which included grieving children – the only with children I have ever seen.. Mostly, the cenotaphs are just tall pillars with the names of the soldiers, and with no recognition of the lives left behind that are changed forever.

Sauveterre is on the edge of a ridge -we are starting to get into the hills. The views are…indescribable.

Which way do we go?

I thought these were the scary stairs Jeremy was referring to…but no…

These bananas are starting to bear fruit. Oh, to live in a land where bananas grow!

The legend is that back in thec1300s the queen was accused of murdering her husband the king, or maybe it was her son she murdered. In anger, the villagers tied her up with stones and threw her in the river. But magically she turned up alive three arrow shots away from what used to be the drawbridge and was forgiven and lived happily ever after.

There’s a cafe now built on top of the castle. Not sure if the queens ghost is still living there happily ever after.

Many of their campgrounds have somewhat permanent trailers on them. This park seemed particularly well kept.

Turns out these are the scary stairs (or lack therof) that we were warned about. But as we are always happy to save a few steps androgen handrail was sturdy, up we went.

My friend Kendra will appreciate these guys.

Our first sighting of a road sign pointing to St Jean Pied de Port our end point.

We are starting to see more farmer protest upside down signs again. We walked first through champagne vineyard country, then cows, then wine vineyards and from Limoges it was all corn and nothing but corn for several days. These upside signs were not in vineyard country, only farming villages.

The red line means you have left town. In case you couldn’t figure that out for yourself when the town disappeared behind you.

Flat. Corn. Nuff said.

Early rest in a church foyer. Bit of a break from the grinder walking.

Jeremy told us this river is the contemporary boundary of the Basque region. We would see different architecture of houses white with either red or green shutters. The Basque region straddles the border between France and Spain. The Basque people have their own very distinct language and culture and historically there has been much tension between the Basque and their neighbours. Signs here are posted both in French and Basque.

Every once in a while, at least once a day, we come across a handful of fruit trees which have been planted by the regional Pilgrim Association. The intent is that the trees will provide fruit for passing pilgrims in the future. Now that’s progressive thinking and is reminiscent of the greatness of men who plant trees that they know they will never sit in the shade of (or something similar – I’m too lazy to Google it!)

The trees are all labeled and are heritage varieties of apples, plums and pears.

Cheery decided to hang out with this cute little ladybug. But alas, these holiday romances never last and we had to move on.

Are you coming or what?

Plants are so tenacious, growing right out of the walls.

I am always rescuing snails and worms and slugs from the dangers of the road. I also pick up empty snail shells and bring them home because I am just weird that way. I thought this shell was empty because it was upside-down but he was still alive. So I set him right-side up and sent him on his merry way. Once snails are tipped over they will die unless some Canadian pilgrim takes pity on them as they cannot right themselves.

We’re not going over that hill, right?

The worm castings are huge here, as are the worms that made them. Some of the worms are over a foot long. Scott says they are annelid worms as opposed to nematodes – always a lesson from that.

Lunch time. And a much needed rest as we had just climbed down and up a very steep slipper slope – it’s pretty tiring, although you don’t notice the length or pitch of the hill so much when you are concentrating on not losing your footing. This wasn’t quite as bad as yesterday, though, when the trails was deeply rusted, muddy and slippery and generated many curse words on my part!

This marks the original boundary where 3 kings met to decide on boundaries 100s of years ago. It is difficult to keep all the history straight and violent remember these lands were fought over and disputed for centuries.

Ken insisted that I insert this picture of a snake. No longer alive. Actually, never alive.

Houses are changing but while they may differ a little in size or shape, they are all definitely made in the same colour scheme.

This pony (?) came running across the field and complaining very VERY loudly. We then realized all 3 of his buddies had escaped and he was left behind with the boring sheep.

This guy was also braying very loudly. The house was right there but I doubt anyone was home or they would have come out to see what all the noise was about.

Hi.

Aw, they were rubbing noses!

While I was petting one, the other was nibbling at my pack, probably sniffing out the apples and carrot that I had. Very typical pickpocket strategy – one distracts while the other grabs and runs.

Cemetery kitty. I carry a can of cat food for strays. This guy looked a little too sleek to be a stray but I would have fed him anyway. Except the can was buried in Scott’s bag so…no food for the kitty. But there is a house beside the church and a farm across the road so I’m sure he’s taken care of.

We always carry apples and oranges and sometimes carrot, which I peel / cut up before we leave in the morning for easy access during the day. Plus baguette, chocolate, cheese if we can, and waffles and Milka wafers.

Sometimes the history here is only a few decades ago, not centuries. A highly decorated soldier / parachutist who died in the French Indochina war in Vietnam (long before the United States got involved).

We see a lot of these round markers protected inside church entry ways. They are funeral stones, but whose grave they were marking has been lost to time.