A rebel without a clue.

Pilgrimage Pt.5. Bonjour I've just walked 15 km in 3 hrs carrying a 15kilo rucksack. One last hill until Montbonnet. No one has overtaken me but I have passed dozens. My dog taught me well. Arrogance? I left Les Capucin this morning around eight and began the steep and steady route Saint Jacques as it rises straight behind Le Pu(y) to the south west. I was huffing and puffing with that first exertion beyond compote and café. I was able to stop and look back at the cathedral and statue this morning without having walked to death yesterday beyond a couple of significantly inexpensive tourist attractions: four euro. It is a great vista to view the terracotta tiled roofs and the bell tower rising towards the nineteenth centuries crowning glory in this town. By now I am sweating happily into my stride. The tempo of my exerting is soon over as I hit the smooth rhythm that always defines my stamina, once the initial assault is complete. We pass a number of quite facinating natural monu...

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. T...