Etape 5, bent and all that jazz.

Just before nine pm I pack what I can, the line has my washing hanging on it (still damp), but I hardly feel the weather likely to alter much. Brewed a pot of heavy black tea to give me the strength. It's utterly silent here now. Such a relief from the frantic "dub" being played until 4am - someone informed me that 21st is the one time of year when no one requires a licence to play music! Thanks for that moment of clarity Charles de Gaulle! He, or they, thought that one long and hard - why would we actually need more music in such a noisy society?

The bell chimes and at the Accueil I am joined by a couple from Germany. They seem the sensible silent types from Aachen.

***

In the morning it is a time to climb the gorge, before returning to the valley for another gorge. Setting off again. Another 1km before "Le piste". The weather; it is 1pm and it is a killer!

Wherever you cross a road a capitalist with zero interest in you, except to make a ton of cash, waits like Shelob. I trust the flies more because they don't pretend it is just your body they're after. So with a swift shit, blown raspberry and a trickle of sirop de citron vert (€1) I carry on from Arboras, swearing, in the wrong direction! One of these days all maps will correspond!

***

End of day five. I felt the last hill. Total ascent 1200 metres in 32°. The scenery in l'Herault is stunning; I contemplated the taste of the numerous berries, I had passed, as my energy declined. It would be useful to be able to ask someone! Another Gites d'Etape is closed tomorrow ...

***

At the end of such a hard day it feels like "here's Johnny". Can tomorrow deliver me another complexity. There is no Gites d'Etape in the long horizon of Wednesday. Five days and I can barely remember which day of the week it is. I wonder how Jesus felt after 40 days? You have no rationale for time; other than the movement of foot aprês foot. Tonight I found I had no way to pay for the municipal gîtes, or diner, I begged in the Epericure and told the Marie I would pay them €15 once the La Poste is ouvert. She allowed me a tin of sauerkraut, uht and a pain simplicitie.

It was a bowl of finesse. And the bottle of vin became erstwhile. The last 250ml goes into the oldest plastic bottle. Tomorrow I carry 3l. I trust. My eyes feel the heaviness of my heart. Truly the road to Damascus was just a tributary?

Here is the end of another day.

What is my function here?

***

Good morning? Questions mark this morning! If there is no Gîtes in the next Etape how far would I need go to arrive at the next spot?? The TopoGuide® Sentier GR 653 recommends the next town of any merit (Lodève) is only 13 kilometres away over one hill of 500 metres.  Perhaps, after a visit to La Poste, this is the destination for lunch time? My thumb is getting itchy once more! A short walk, a simple meander, would be best but over mountains in 31° this could never be! At 7 am the sky is blue from ear to ear. There is a Cloister and a Buddhist Temple close by.

Café (forte), pan au fromage. Time to kill and time to waste discovering my body is covered in petite bites.

***

I was unable to pay for Gîtes or the food I had begged at the Epercurie - €20 - La Poste is unable to do transactions to withdraw funds. With clouds of guilt I disappeared as fast as I was able up towards the Anc. Priéuré Grandmont (7.5 kms to climb up 500metres). At any moment I expected the Gendarmerie de la Saint Jacques de Compostelle to find me and lock me away. Now I have paid €25 for an apartment on Grand Rue and I will hide here considering my fate!