A rebel without a clue.

Pilgrimage Pt.13. The weather has no meaning. It is meaningless to weight it down with personifactions. But the rain fills me with a deep longing for more yellow mellow circumstances. It is what it is. Something I've eaten has come straight through me; Delhi Belly. Not sure what it might've been but there were plenty of flies at Relais St Jacques ... the food itself is usually 100% so maybe the water could be a possibility. It is a relief this didn't occur when I was marching this morning and before I climbed the hill between St-Côme and Estalion. That was tough climbing through the black stone quarry soaked. I'm not bothered about statutes of Notre-Dame really. I wonder if rural France never saw anything of the Revolution at all? There seems little to have changed since 1789 except motor cars; the diet must be identical? The food can't be a reason for these tidings. Booked into to a gites occupied by a strangely inanimate Argentinian and Germanic caricature. I s...

Pilgrimage Pt.12. So muddy. I feel like a soldier in the winters of the trenches. Set off walking before petit dejourner at 7am. Wanted to come away from the snow and mist I hit St Chély d'Audrac and the heavens open again. I can't walk a second day soaking wet so I stopped to have breakfast. The day is cruel until a man in a van comes to Relais St Jacques who carries bags down for the lightweight walker. I hitch for to Saint Côme d'Olt. If I had set off any later in the matin I would've arrived soaking again! Wow! A quick look around the church in St-Côme then rejoin the GR65 lighter by €15, but drier by far more. I went forward around 15kms so I still walked over 15kms and arrived in Espalion. One stage further but no less torture; the rain lingers, but is more on and off than constant. I still come down into Espalion cussing St Jacques and all his many demons. Chasing me up another twisting and sodden excuse for a path. Now the rain is steady like you get at ...

Pilgrimage Pt.11. I think more of the wolf in sheep's clothing as an obstacle to overcome through self examination. He had no knowledge of what I was seeking but my mind allowed him to enter my subconscious and bring forth demons. He is at least a day ahead of me now. This morning I was ready to leave the Chemin Faisant by 7:55am. A breakfast with people leaving by train to jump forward some 300 kms in seven hours; catching three connections at various stations: that also is a Way. Walking though Lasbros my thoughts turn to Lord of the Rings as I am walking passed a feature known as Barradou. The two Germans I saw this morning, who I assumed to be French, I left behind at Le Gare Au-Au, but as I approached Chapelle de Bastide the cheats were already ahead circulating like the Kaiser's Raptors. Onwards at a steady 5.6kms per hour I am covering the distance respectably. ... 'fucking weather, ha!' What happened to the weather. The wrath of god was upon the moor. Fr...