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

I’d rather have a beer and memories than a six-pack and amnesia.

Anon

Today ( actually the day before yestrrday as I write this in Puivert waiting for my pizza to artive in an hour!) and the was meant to be an easy 31km amble from Padern to Camp-sur-Angly. After yesterday’s brutal heat I was looking forward to having an easier time of it today. Unfortunately things didn’t work out as planned!

The previous evening had been spent pleasantly enough. A doctor’s surgery had been converted into a gite run by an enterprising lady called Pascale, who also ran the café opposite. The lasagne she had prepared was superb, washed down with a bottle of ice cold beer. Thankfully I was the only person staying in the gite as I was lost to the world after a gruelling day and would have made extremely bad company!

There is one thing I’m never keen on – a murderous ascent just after breskfast! I had’t actually eaten much – baguettes and jam don’t really do it for me in the morning! Anyways, the official route climbed steeply out of Padern to the ruined Cathar castle which was in a sorry state of repair and out of bounds to the public.

The next couple of hours was spent walking towards the Cathar castle of Quéribus, one of the most impressive and well preserved castles on the Cathar trail. When I arrived it was still only 9.15am and the ticket office didn’t open until 9.30am. It also looked like quite a schlepp to gain access to it. So I am ashamed, dear blog readers, to have to admit that I didn’t make the grand tour of the Chateau of Quéribus!

Quéribus was one of the last Cathar strongholds to be seized in 1255 some years after the fall of Montségur which marked the last stand of the Cathars. Gazing up at it’s impressive silhouette on the horizon, it wasn’t hard to see how the castle stood out for so long.

Curcuran is a small hilltop village some 60 minutes from Quéribus, that sustains a host of artisans, a wholemeal bakery next to a windmill and a number of shops selling precious stones. The lady running the bakery seemed to know most of her customers by name and was doing a busy trade in baguettes and assorted enticing looking bakeries.

By the time I reached another small village clinging to the side of the mountain I decided it was time to break the habit of a lifetime and start drinking beer at lunchtime. Nestled beneath a shady fig tree, the café owner was busy deploying the covers for an anticipated onslaught of visitors. I ordered not one but two pressions and relaxed. And at this point something clicked in my brain. I asked myself the rather obvious question- why am I killing myself walking 35km a day in 90C heat when I should be taking it easy enjoying a couple of beers in an isolated auberge in the lea of the Pyrenees? Surely the journey is more important than the journey. As I polished off my second beer I made a decision – the rest of the walk would be dedicated not to obscure medieval French history but hedonism of a variety where cold beer would figure largely!

The afternoon heat was pretty unrelenting – I came across a herd of cattle taking it easy in a mountain pasture. They seemed to have the right idea!

I made it to another small village, near my destination for the day at Camp-sur-l’Agly. Amazingly there was another small bar in the village so it seemed only natural to drop in and get another couple of beers down the hatch. I hadn’t eaten anything all day apart from a couple of slices of ham. Rehydration seemed more important than food. Apart from a litre of beer, I’d also downed 4 litres of water!

I eventually made my way to a small farm at Camp-sur-l’Agly. There was only one other walker – Miguel from the Marne department of France. It was to prove one of those chance encounters on the road that will live long in the memory. More of that later!