Pilgrimage Pt.4.

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Pilgrimage Pt 4.
Just got up. Packed. Ready for breaking my fast. I had a glass of gros Manseng wine last night. Some local cheese and two beers from local brewer. Slept from around 10 until 6(5 in UK). Now I am awaiting my morning coffee from a mademoiselle.

The wonderful smells of freshly baking croissants and thick lucous French coffee. Paradise is here in combustables. Buerre a la Brest au Breton. Starting this breakfast to gentle voices French. Offer me coffee in which a spoon stand up and I know I am a francophile.

But they are another form of madden head shake: les femmes. It is a holiday weekend. The same one I flew from in Brittany in 2000. Back in France without the other mechanical fears. My tears fall for joy and kava.

The marching of prisoners, aka pensioners, who now fear death without redemption. Off they stride passing my temporary window. Sitting on the left side of the Chemin I can consume unto equilibrium. I am in need of l'eau et au banane for my journey.

The sun is shining. After two days of very windy and threatening rain it has settled down; perhaps.

Finally saw Thomas who is now leaving to find his mother's sides relations via train and bus to Figaec to reach a little village called Capdenac. I'm an finishing my compote de pommes - the filling for an apple pie but in it's raw lovely apple state.

I re read lesson eleven before I passed out; on the edge of sleep I woke and spoke to Thomas as if he was the person in my dream. He seemed s little confused by my actions. Very very far out man! Finishing off my ablutions and lastly putting on my walking boots ready for the steady way. Twenty three kilometers to St-Privat-d'Allier then rest. Need water and banane from Place du Plot down the hill than back along the GR65.

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