The long walk to nowhere...

We left the village this morning expecting a quick 12km to Moissic. Turning right instead of left we found ourselves wandering through orchards and vineyards. Both of us tired and sore today, it was bit quieter. Leslie did not have to put up with my singing songs to which I did not have all the words, or my incessant storytelling to which I admittedly try to find special meaning.

Getting to the bottom of a mud slick tractor track was not too easy but very do able. It was there where today's first set of camino angels, a dad and two teenaged boys showed up.Théy looked at me oddly as they were walking the opposite direction. In that space between the languages where one manages to communicate the important things they broke the news. Wrong way. Way way wrong way.

We turned back up the muddy track and walked back to the origin of the error. Then on to St Martin where there is an amazing gite next to the church. Cold,hungry and tired we were welcomed into a house filled with antiques of all sizes. There were small toy cars and rideable toy cars. Elephant tusks and elaborately carved chairs. A French man cooked us wonderful soup and omelet and we visited with his two young daughters who spoke British English. Our spirits were warmed yet exhaustion overtook us. We took a cab.

We were dropped off at the train station. Across the street was gite Ultreia. Rom and Aideen Bates own this gite. But it is not a business to them. It is their mission in life....to care for pilgrims.

More later...