A rebel without a clue.

I'm craving food, but I really can't afford it. It's desperate. Yesterday I could do it all myself, for €12.50 to sleep, today not a chance. The convent in which I am staying won't provide me any food until seven thirty this evening, and I've just burnt 1500 calories before ten thirty! If I start devouring someone's leg, arm or head that's it I am done for ... I carried some items from last night, but I thought, incorrectly, the sœurs would provide me a little luncheon. However the lunch(€15 three courses, wine and coffee) I've just had was absolutely stunning: no wonder the place is very busy (fit to bust). It did the best Crème Brûlée I've ever tasted in France down the years! It maybe was my desperation which spake thus, but it was a different class. It's only necessary to make one thing brilliantly rather than so many things badly! Now I'm so lethargic, but I'm happy to watch this fast world go by as a blur.on this busy main road betw...

Down off Montréal I've the massive Pyrenees boldly lining the South so I can't go wrong from here towards Saint Jean P-d-P. The autumn equinox has passed and the nights are now longer than the days: officially summer is over, but the air is so pleasant as dew hangs heavily and the shades of green I see reflected are peaceful indeed; a dove calls from the telegraph pole and the agricultural morning also begins. 13 kilometres is a stroll Tomatoes, glorious tomatoes. No one around for miles. There are so many that they won't miss a couple? Gleaning season as I pilfer some walnuts too! Up a very steep and winding path into the Monastery town and now it's time to rest a while in a comfortable bed in a wooden cell, while my sweaty clothes dry out in the beautiful morning.

It's quiet here. I'm awake but a bit sore behind my head from the migraine. Was tempted to roll over and stay in bed a while longer. It's a shorter "étape" today - only 13 kilometres to the Monastery town Fanjeaux. I'm yawning, and most of me wants back to bed, but it's a momentary lapse Coffee brewed. I'm telling myself to slow down this morning because there is no hurry. Nothing matters; just be peaceful. On a distant road a horn is honked. Carcassonne probably did things to me mentally for which I was unqualified to deal with. It's a UNESCO world heritage site and that means hordes of zombies trudging from one ice cream parlour to another with a somnambulist's gate. It interferes with my sanity. I have to cling to the edges, find other routes or run away. It was a cliché town. It's a citadel, fortress, nice things rarely happened in them places. Kings and Queens looked down on hopeless "paysans" and cried "mine, it's ...