Pilgrimage Pt.7.
On the journey I have only seen one ghost. The wife of Charles proprietor of L'Acrobate, Corinne is the only one who is still breathing alive but is dead behind her eyes. There may be was a semi-ghost back in Montbonnet but it was unclear as I drank my Verbena tea. A simple bed and breakfast for €17 in Privat.
On reaching the top of the Aubrac plateau coming into Sauges I am surrounded by cows swaying and ruminating to the chimes of antique alpine bells; in distinct brown and white they provide le fromage du Pays from the tender unpolluted dales.
For the first time in my life I have climbed beyond 1000 metres. From leaving Monstrial d'Allier I climbed beyond 600 metres rapidly; in the fridgid hale and bleak swirling winds.
Twice I reached the tipping point of water and mud. Both feet! But over a crest I hear school children as Sauges is before me.
I descended from on high to the center ville of Sauges my body begins to react to the constant tread of size elevens. I set off this morning around 8 am and arrived 18kms later shattered by the stiff inclinations; there were at least three valleys to walk up and down the banks of clifflike crevasses. Passing the hydro power station as gallons of water poured off the escapment I pushed myself to pass all travellers and arrive first in Sauges prior to one. Dominique, for all his age, was flying but I was buzzing too momentary and fleeting. Receding were Japanese and France; it's not a race, but I felt supreme to be top of the class. Neither Patric from Switzerland or Joelle France caught me today. My last opponent was a Deuter rucksack German frau. Beyond that I was solo stomping as the fraudulent snows whipped my nose to a rosy glow.
In the town I asked for directions to my accommodations twice before at the entrance to Tours du Anglais church an elderly lady beckoned me to stamp my Créanciale. I was in a rush to get my feet out to breath again so I hushed her rabid Gallic prose and promised to return later for my blessing. Finding the d'Accueil de la Margeride became a challenge as I waned. Passing arrogant school boys, slick back hair 15, a school master and another younger femme I finally crossed the threshold to solace and recomposition today. With thanks I hugged the lovely femme and rushed to urinate; phew: and relax, but there are no toliette seats! Time for a siesta then douche before finding dinner tonight.
In the main square the first building I enter to get directions was once the pilgrims infirmary/hospital but is now a home for the declining/infirmary. For some no reason I ask a gummy fellow for directions before I realise his yellow visage and blank stare tell me this is a retirement home. I laugh at my luck finding this first; the word Expo had me entranced obviously.
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