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

If you think you are too small to make a difference, you haven’t spent a night with a mosquito.

African proverb

With the benefit of hindsight, it probably wasn’t the cleverest of ideas to down a litre of cold beer in a café in front of the cathedral at Bertrand-de-Comminges, shortly after 2pm!

My excuse was simple. It was 31C in the shade, I was dehydrated and there wasn’t any food available in the cafés apart from ice creams and pancakes, neither of which I much fancied.

But first I should say a few words about Bertrand-de-Comminges where I sat drinking my beer in front of the magnificent Cathedral and explain what the connection is between its saint and a crocidile which hangs from the wall in the Cathedral.

Perched on a rocky escarpment which rises dramatically from the valley below, Saint-Bertrand-de-Comminges was founded by the Romans, conquered by the Visigoths before having a cathedral built by the Bertrand of L’Isle Jourdain grandson of the count of Toulouse in 1083.

Crucially, several miracles were attributed to Bertrand, including that of having killed a crocodile while on pilgrimage to the Holy Land, meaning that after his death in 1123, pilgrim numbers grew.

The initially modest building was largely reworked during the Gothic period and then during the Renaissance, and today you can spend a good few hours exploring its many wonders – you effectively experience three churches in one. The magnificent stalls feature 66 ‘regular’ seats and one episcopal seat carved from oak and were built between 1525 and 1535 at the request of Bishop Jean de Mauléon, with the intention of isolating the canons from the constant flow of pilgrims paying homage at St Bertrand’s tomb.

Equally impressive are the narrow alleys leading to the Cathedral square, lined with medieval half timbered houses. Despite being one of the most beautiful villages in France, there were onlt a smattering of mostly British visitors evident including a gaggle of lycra clad cyclists from the Black Country in search of liquid refreshment.

The morning had begun with breakfast with Margot and Fréderic at the gite at Saint-Pé-d’Ardet. The breajfast area was even more well appointed than the rest of the gite.

Over breakfast we duscussed miracles and Lourdes. I enquired where you eent in Lourdes to get ailments fixed such as my lack of smell and whether one needed to make appointments in advance. Fréderic ( who suffered from chronic hearing problems was somewhat sceptical, Margot less so.

Having swapped contact details with Margot, I headed out on my way to Saint Bertrand-de-Comminges. There was a lung busting 300m ascent that I could have done without so soon after breakfast. Thereafter, the landscape changed to pastoral uplands. I passed a chap on a quadbike  taking his flock of sheep out into the pastures.

Back at Bertrand-de-Comninges I finished my secobd beer and headed off towards Anères, hoping that the litre of beer I had jyst consumed wouldn’t impair my powers of navigation and prevent me reaching Anères before 7pm.

The afternoon passed pleasantly enough. I passed through a few isolated  hamlets, none of which had any anenities.

Getting to Anères involved a 2km detour from the GR78. When I arrived shortly before 7pm, the proprietor told me that there was a resident Vietnamese chef who could prepare supper for me. What a surprise.

I had a shower and wandered over to the village cafè for a glass of lemonade before supper.

I’ve never had Moquequa, a Beazilian fish stew, before. It was delicious. There were four of us at supper which went down a treat as did second helpings.

I’d like to end this blog by telling you that I fell into a deep and peaceful slumber after this delicious repast.  Sadly that didn’t happen.  Instead the night was punctuated by waves of mosquito attacks that prevented me getting any sledp. Not ideal for the day ahead – storms were forecast fir the evening, I still hadn’t confirmed my accommodation and I might be spending the night under canvas.