Day Two. Châteauneuf Val-de-Bargis

What is the Telos - the end goal/the purpose towards which I put one foot in front of the other second after second, minute after minute, ad finitum?

At another crossroads with 2.5 kilometres to Champlemy I can't find a goal or an end point in my thoughts. So is the Camino pointless really?

On the positive side I note I never feel lonely alone. As I walked through a forest, and as the first deer ked dropped on me and I hastily wiped it off my precious body. I realised for quite a few persons a huge woodland, like the ones I often walk through in France, a scream of fear would be on their lips quite soon into the feeling of remoteness it's possible to feel? The remoteness is an illusion, because all forests in France are 'managed', but the scale of the repeatedness of the trees in all directions, except straight ahead, is potentially very threatening: what's in there lingering to pounce or drop, as the deer ked just did, to attack my precious body?

***

After a brief coffee, and the purchase of a demi baguette with Comte and tomatoes, in Champlemy I walked through a managed forest where all the trees had been cut and laid by the wayside. Coming out the other side I pass a private lake and ruined tower, or dovecote, then to a field being ploughed and I am welcomed by the odour of freshly turned soil: which is a comfortable smell... And one apple off a tree where many windfall are being consumed, at no cost, by thirsty wasps.

It's noon and I've stopped. Second beer from Brasserie Sancerroise - oh dear I am 25 kilometress from Sancerre as a crow flies - and randomly Glenn sent me a compilation of photos from my birthday trip to London, in 2012, where it all started with a bottle of Sancerre. Serendipity.

The brasserie is closed for vacation and I am currently alone. It wasn't so long passed I ate the demi baguette so I can manage to forget the inconvenience of having to cater for myself, and perhaps the Dutch brothers and Breton man who I left with yesterday morning...but should I mention I was once a chef de cuisine?

Twice in two days I've passed a field where I couldn't identify the plant, and had to upload to Plantnet. Yesterday it was Buckwheat 

and this morning it was millet!

So now I know. 

Two beers down, many articulated lorries pass along and through the crossroads, an English couple 'enjoy' a café and two workers discuss 'the weather' in a serious tone next to me. Châteauneuf Val-de-Bargis.

***

Third beer, I went to find the Gîtes. But the cupboard was bare: I was hoping for some pasta in it. But the shop was also closed(until 16:30). But before I cried absolutely in this crossroads of a town I took stock of what I had: one Saucisson Sec (walnut and pepper) and two Gala apples. In the cupboard there was literally two jars of vinegar, one container of salt and (luckily) a box of bullion cubes. No oil so I cut the Saucisson's skin off (as it's the smelly bit) and what I have left is a kind of bacon - Salted and cured like a drycure - now to fry it without burning it. Afterwards poured off the excess saturated fats and added three cups of water, one bullion cube and one dessert apple, minus the core... With a little bread added to add thickness and a little carbohydrates and now I am in bed ready for a siesta. My soiled pantaloons and socks are also far cleaner and hanging in the bathroom on a rack. Great beer, but next time go shopping prior to getting slightly squiffy on three lovely beers from up in Sancerre...