Pilgrim's Progress – Long Distance Walks in Europe and the UK

No great genius has ever existed without a touch of madness.

Aristotle

The day, which started with high solemnity, was clouded by tragedy and ended in high farce.

I have little memory of the last time I was in Le Puy-en-Velay some 35 years ago when I embarked on the Chemin de St Jacques (GR65) after a year studying Korean at SOAS. One thing is for sure though – I never attended the 7am Mass for pilgrims which takes place in the Cathedral each day. Had I done so, I would surely have remembered the occasion.

My accommodation in Le Puy where I spent the previous night (the Relais de St Jacques run by the Acceuil Jacquaires) couldn’t have been more conveniently located – just minutes away from the Cathedral.

Breakfast at 6.15am was designed to give pilgrims staying at the Relais, ample time to pack their ruck sacks and hotfoot it to the Cathedral in time for the start of Mass at 7am.

There must have been a good four hundred people packed into the Cathedral for the pilgrim Mass. To hazard a guess, about 75% were women.

The pilgrims came in all shapes and sizes. I noticed there was one lady poncho’d up with a small Chihuahua en route to Compostella.

After the sacraments had been dispensed, the priest gave a sermon about the history of pilgrims leaving Le Puy en route to Compostella. Then it was time for non-French pilgrims to identify themselves.

An Irish nun went around the congregation with a microphone asking non-French pilgrims to identify themselves with a show of hands. Germany, Italy, Holland and Australia were all well represented. There was also a pilgrim from Finland, Czechoslovakia, a Korean and yes, a sole Englishman!

After the Salve Regina had been sung with great gusto, a button was pressed by the Priest celebrating Mass and two iron gates in the Nave suddenly rose up and parted to reveal steps out of the Cathedral for the pilgrims to descend into Le Puy and embark on their journey. It was a highly impressive and moving ceremony which I wouldn’t have missed for the world.

The weather had taken another turn for the worst. Much of the morning was spent slithering through mud or dodging large puddles on the path. I was grateful once again for my Sealskinz!

It turned out that the gite I had booked for the might was only 23km from Le Puy. I decided to chance my arm and head for Saugues, 42km from Le Puy even though I didn’t have any accommodation booked and there appeared to be humoungously large numbers of pilgrims on the path.

What a change from 35 years ago when I hardly remember seeing another pilgrim, the internet had yet to be invented and portable phones were still an idea in the science lab.I remember going up to London by train to buy my French maps and topoguides to the Chemin de St Jacques from Hatchards book store in Piccadilly! Those were the days.

During the day I received some terrible news from back home which added a metaphorical cloud to the physical clouds which shrouded the surrounding countryside. My pilgrimage seemed oddly inconsequential in the greater scheme of things.

I passed innumerable pilgrims during the day but there was never time to have a chat with them because they were simply walking too slowly. It felt at times as if I was on the pilgrim equivalent of the M1. The path was festooned with panels advertising accommodation or food. The emphasis was very much on commercial exploitation rather than spiritual enlightenment. The way of the modern world.

Most of the gites I had contacted had texted me back to say they were full. My skin was saved by  Jean-Claude, the proprietor of the Le Chalet du Pélèrin in Saugues, who rang me up during the afternoon to let me know there was one bed left in the Gite and I could have it. What a stroke of luck.

Jean-Claude welcomed me at the Gite and signed me up for supper, breakfast and a packed lunch. We would be 12 for dinner and Jean-Claude was busy preparing the meal.

I was the only Englishman at supper. There was a group of walkers from Belgium, a pilgrim from Switzerland, a couple of girls from Montpellier and two French walkers from the south of France. We were a merry crew, swapping pilgrim tales of life on the road. Most of the gathered company couldn’t believe that I had covered 42km ftom Le Puy in a day!

It turned out that Jean-Claude, who originally hailed from Belgium, was a gourmet chef. His family had run a Michelin starred restaurant in Belgium. His culinary skills were displayed for all to see in the stuffed tomatoes in sauce and basmati rice that he served up for supper.

After we had finished supper we gathered in the garden and were intrigued by the tape measure laid out on part of the lawn. This it transpired was to measure the distance that Jean-Claude could spit chestnuts and hazelnuts. For it turned out that apart from being a gastronome, a champion endurance athlete in the army, Jean-Claude had another string to his bow – he was the world’s greatest hazelnut spitter! In fact his feats had been verified by Guinness and he’d won the world championship hazelnut spitting competion in the US, which had garnered him a €12,000 first prize – far from peanuts. Sometimes life is stranger than fiction! (https://www.lamontagne.fr/saugues-43170/loisirs/il-se-voit-champion-de-cracher-de-noisettes_14384100)

It was now time for Jean-Claude to show off his talents. A bowl of hazelnuts was produced from the kitchen, one was weighed which Jean-Claude then inserted into his mouth.

He limbered up and then let rip – the hazelnut was propelled from his mouth like a champagne cork, soared gracefuly through the air on a hentle arc and came to land over 8 metres away on the grass.

We stood there, mouths ajar, aware that we were in the presence of greatness. The world champion hazelnut spitter of Saugues had left us lost for words! It was time for bed