four to six, am.

Day four begins with me sat outside, in the cloisters, of the Salle á manger. The homme - Eric - in my room, a room with no name, sleeps very silently so I crept out.

Quick venture down to le marchè then back on the le marche... 22 kilometres today. With no room at the inn?

***

Following the couple ahead I am led to a deadend. A dyke overflowing. But I did see a path across some wasteland and then I had to vault over a steel barrier - breaking my personal best!

In Auvillar the pizza guy thought I was talking to my wine, but it was originally talking to me! Honestly. Two whites and one rouge with a fine Neapolitan pizza. Only three; only ever three for repase a la midi. So I stop here.

An amazing Mademoiselle from near to Albi keeps giving me almonds... Sarah... But she's well ahead now I guess?

End of (only) day four. Possibly I will reach my first destination on Sunday? However I know 20 to 25 kilometres is definitely my limit now. Walking alongside the canal with the plane trees towering above my head, and as far as I could see in the distance, was pretty bland. I wonder if this is the same canal which I recall entering at Toulouse?

***

Made a dinner from pasta, camembert, garlic, pesto and peanuts, which I shared with a French lady who provided the wine. And I finished three quarters of the cantaloupe melon, which had been wearing me down in the backpack... This morning I completed the melon, the solitary yogurt and a quarter of the camembert.

It's a long etape today. Let's see how my foot goes? An hour to the next village as the rain cleared away first thing.

***

Prior to noon, and just around the twenty kilometres mark, I was forced to stop. At the signpost pointing 14 kilometres to Sainte Clair or Lectoure I was picked up by a vast mobile home/camper ...

So I arrived here around noon. It's not a calamity, but I was once more questioning why I walk el Camino/le Chemin and I couldn't tell anyone. Truthfully I enjoy eating well and drinking finely, but that's no more a reason. And just now I heard the kind of oneupmanship I heard in May. And he asked what I had wrong with my toe... He wasn't involved in the conversation. From Eric and happiness, to American and competitive. I've 30 minutes until I am the final bed in the gîte religious. Enjoying a liquorice ice-cream. But they don't know, and it doesn't matter!

Je suis autiste. J'oublie parfois mes bonnes manières !

So many bad dreams in the old Gîte Accueil Presbytère de Lectoure(really a palace for a cardinal). Not only I was caught in these nightmares but Eric and his companion had the same problem. Was the hall haunted? I was so full of the negative spirit at the end of the afternoon that I probably poisoned everyone there. This morning I apologised for my attitude... The hostess accepted my apologies... Day six and I've a dozen hot air balloons heading in the same direction and a dog barking in the farm which is just around the bend!