The new day started as the old one had ended - very well.
A good night's sleep (although I later learned that I think there were a few things sharing the bed that oughtn't to have been there!) and a fine breakfast: lots of jam and butter on bread, and a couple of slices of slightly overripe melon and I was ready to attack the journey to Toulouse.
I know that I was a little unsure as to what exactly to expect on this leg of the journey, as it meant making my way to the centre of Toulouse from the outer suburbs, and there had been suggestions that it was perhaps better tackled on a bus! But determined to walk all of the way, I strode out of Montrastruc feeling great, going uphill, and was soon in the countryside. One of the first things I noticed was the lovely mature cedar (? Is it?) by the roadside. As I crossed onto the path and into the fields I looked back and saw a rather fine house I'd not noticed from within the village:
The view of Montastruc looking back:
The walk was really rather straightforward and the signposting had definitely improved from the rather slipshod mix of regional and local footpaths that I had encountered, for example, when making my way to Gaillac. In retrospect there needs to be a great deal more done to properly integrate that network of paths into one meaningful route.
I saw some interesting sights on my way, like this very old building that I imagine was once a fortified farmhouse, perhaps belonging to the chateau:
Or these rather untypical buildings that reminded me of Caribbean dwellings:
The distance tended to pass quickly even though parts of it were spent walking beside the A68 motorway - a part with which you may be familiar:
but of course there were also the now expected shady trails through quiet countryside:
There were a couple of incidents where I had to stop and rediscover the path, caused mostly by attempts to obscure the signage by either use of a chain across the path or, in the other case a large, untrimmed hedge.
My first view of distant Toulouse:
The first part of Toulouse I came into was an area called St Jean, which is just above the area called Montrabe, before one passes through L'Union. I have to say that while suburbia isn't really something I strive for, it was nevertheless very green, peaceful and well laid out - certainly a long way from what the words "housing estate" might conjure up in some minds. There were even some odd planning decisions, this much more modern house right next to a more traditional older one:
After St Jean and a few interconnected estates, as I passed along leafy avenues of ordered housing, I was amazed to find myself crossing a road and entering a forest! This forest has acquired marked trails through it, including one to a lake but which I didn't see because the Chemin took me another way. Again I was surprised to find myself in a large field of yellowing crops - perhaps not a farmer's dream but certainly another surprising sight within Toulouse:
The way was pretty clearly marked throughout, and I eventually made it to the 'worst' section of the day's trail - that which passed alongside both the Canal du Midi and the motorway. The day had grown hot and I was drinking a lot of water. I carry two litres with me (that's an extra 2kg of weight for any non-physicists) but on a hot day I can drink three or four litres. Anyway, this part of the walk was probably the least enjoyable part of the four days if one excludes the entire experience of arriving in Rabastens on a Monday!
The path went dead straight along a hot, sluggish, muddy green stripe of canal, while the roar from the motorway was evident:
After about 45 minutes or so I crossed the canal and turned into a peaceful park. Here once again one sees how the French seem to excel at providing such great leisure facilities. This public space had a running and cycling track, tennis courts and sports facilities.
After a rest for my hot feet (I have decided that heat and not mileage is currently my feets' worst enemy) I pushed on through the park and into the final set of streets that would take me to my destination - Le Capitol. So, some urban walking which, again is not the most scenic but certainly wasn't difficult or unpleasant - the route planners seem to have chosen quiet streets along which to progress.
I came to L'Observatoire and something a place called La Joliment where there is a large obelisk and a map - which I've included here for anyone interested in history (you'll have to click on it to enlarge to make it legible) and which shows "The battle for Toulouse" on 10th April 1814, when it seems Wellington hadn't quite finished annoying the French...
I then crossed a tributary of the Garonne and soon found myself approaching the centre of Toulouse. I passed by Matabiau exactly the way one would drive (I can't remember the street names) and within about 500m I turned towards Le Capitol.
Of course I should have realised that this being Toulouse everything was going to be "a little bit complicated" as it seems the Toulousains themselves like to describe it. There was also some strange obsession with large, multicoloured cows:
I thought that rather than step into the huge town hall, I'd ask first at the Tourist Information for a list of pilgrim acommodation. I was given a single address, that of the Auberge de Compostelle which, they told me, was by far the cheapest way to stay in Toulouse. I duly walked the further 800m or more but when I arrived was immediately asked if I'd made a reservation. Of course my initial reaction was to wonder just how many pilgrims there were in Toulouse this day! As it turned out, the very helpful owner explained that a) they didn't only take pilgrims but basically anybody who wanted to stay in Toulouse for 22 euros per night, and that actually they had stopped taking pilgrims after a case of bed bugs had cost them dearly, and b) For some reason Toulouse was experiencing a very busy September.
They were kind and phoned around for me, but everywhere they suggested (and phoned) was full. Finally, before deciding on whether to spend upwards of 50 euros for a room, plus food or leave Toulouse (not desirable) I followed their suggestion to go and ask at St Sernin, which I duly did.
The events that then unfolded made me feel that there actually is something a bit special about being on this journey, even if I'm only a few days into it. It goes like this basically:
I discover the church full of tourists and guides but no apparent clergy or officials. I finally located one chap in a white shirt who confirmed he worked in the church. As he pointed me to the "Accueil de Pelerins" (that I hadn't noticed!) and assumed I simply wanted my passport stamped, I was greeted by another very friendly chap who took me inside and did precisely that. But I then explained my difficulties in locating somewhere to sleep, which comprised a fairly extensive list of dead-ends. He then said that in assisting pilgrims he was able to offer a "family welcome" (I prefer the French but realise that some of you reading this don't speak it) and asked whether that would be acceptable to me. Since this was exactly the sort of thing I'd been hoping for in the first instance of course I agreed. He then said that the family he was thinking of was his own! So, without further ado we left the office and headed for his home. He explained en route that he had been due to leave the church some six minutes earlier but had been delayed, and was heading for the door as he noticed me. Talk about timing! I snapped another view as we left the church:
So, I passsed an excellent evening in the home of this kind gentleman and his wife. Since he explained to me that he doesn't advertise this hospitality for the sake of not being bombarded, I shall refrain from mentioning names. But what a wonderful evening. When his wife cooked a ratatouille and rice and placed it on the table, and I explained that this was precisely what a pilgrim needs, she replied by saying that she'd cooked it specially. And her husband managed to find a rather nice bottle of Bordeaux to go with it. Wow!
On top of all this, he was a keen pilgrim himself, having walked many different parts of the camino himself, and he was only too keen to get out maps and guides, write down instructions for me (since his printer was out of ink. The poor guy wrote four sides of A4 for me!) and generally share all sorts of advice about walking the camino.
I slept very well under a small crucifix and olive branch and was impressed actually that despite their obvious religious leanings, they never once attempted to raise the matter or ask about my beliefs (or lack of). I have to admit that I have been genuinely touched by the absolute kindness and help given to a total stranger in the name of assisting the pilgrimage.
A good night's sleep (although I later learned that I think there were a few things sharing the bed that oughtn't to have been there!) and a fine breakfast: lots of jam and butter on bread, and a couple of slices of slightly overripe melon and I was ready to attack the journey to Toulouse.
I know that I was a little unsure as to what exactly to expect on this leg of the journey, as it meant making my way to the centre of Toulouse from the outer suburbs, and there had been suggestions that it was perhaps better tackled on a bus! But determined to walk all of the way, I strode out of Montrastruc feeling great, going uphill, and was soon in the countryside. One of the first things I noticed was the lovely mature cedar (? Is it?) by the roadside. As I crossed onto the path and into the fields I looked back and saw a rather fine house I'd not noticed from within the village:
The view of Montastruc looking back:
The walk was really rather straightforward and the signposting had definitely improved from the rather slipshod mix of regional and local footpaths that I had encountered, for example, when making my way to Gaillac. In retrospect there needs to be a great deal more done to properly integrate that network of paths into one meaningful route.
I saw some interesting sights on my way, like this very old building that I imagine was once a fortified farmhouse, perhaps belonging to the chateau:
Or these rather untypical buildings that reminded me of Caribbean dwellings:
The distance tended to pass quickly even though parts of it were spent walking beside the A68 motorway - a part with which you may be familiar:
but of course there were also the now expected shady trails through quiet countryside:
There were a couple of incidents where I had to stop and rediscover the path, caused mostly by attempts to obscure the signage by either use of a chain across the path or, in the other case a large, untrimmed hedge.
My first view of distant Toulouse:
The first part of Toulouse I came into was an area called St Jean, which is just above the area called Montrabe, before one passes through L'Union. I have to say that while suburbia isn't really something I strive for, it was nevertheless very green, peaceful and well laid out - certainly a long way from what the words "housing estate" might conjure up in some minds. There were even some odd planning decisions, this much more modern house right next to a more traditional older one:
After St Jean and a few interconnected estates, as I passed along leafy avenues of ordered housing, I was amazed to find myself crossing a road and entering a forest! This forest has acquired marked trails through it, including one to a lake but which I didn't see because the Chemin took me another way. Again I was surprised to find myself in a large field of yellowing crops - perhaps not a farmer's dream but certainly another surprising sight within Toulouse:
The way was pretty clearly marked throughout, and I eventually made it to the 'worst' section of the day's trail - that which passed alongside both the Canal du Midi and the motorway. The day had grown hot and I was drinking a lot of water. I carry two litres with me (that's an extra 2kg of weight for any non-physicists) but on a hot day I can drink three or four litres. Anyway, this part of the walk was probably the least enjoyable part of the four days if one excludes the entire experience of arriving in Rabastens on a Monday!
The path went dead straight along a hot, sluggish, muddy green stripe of canal, while the roar from the motorway was evident:
After about 45 minutes or so I crossed the canal and turned into a peaceful park. Here once again one sees how the French seem to excel at providing such great leisure facilities. This public space had a running and cycling track, tennis courts and sports facilities.
After a rest for my hot feet (I have decided that heat and not mileage is currently my feets' worst enemy) I pushed on through the park and into the final set of streets that would take me to my destination - Le Capitol. So, some urban walking which, again is not the most scenic but certainly wasn't difficult or unpleasant - the route planners seem to have chosen quiet streets along which to progress.
I came to L'Observatoire and something a place called La Joliment where there is a large obelisk and a map - which I've included here for anyone interested in history (you'll have to click on it to enlarge to make it legible) and which shows "The battle for Toulouse" on 10th April 1814, when it seems Wellington hadn't quite finished annoying the French...
I then crossed a tributary of the Garonne and soon found myself approaching the centre of Toulouse. I passed by Matabiau exactly the way one would drive (I can't remember the street names) and within about 500m I turned towards Le Capitol.
Of course I should have realised that this being Toulouse everything was going to be "a little bit complicated" as it seems the Toulousains themselves like to describe it. There was also some strange obsession with large, multicoloured cows:
I thought that rather than step into the huge town hall, I'd ask first at the Tourist Information for a list of pilgrim acommodation. I was given a single address, that of the Auberge de Compostelle which, they told me, was by far the cheapest way to stay in Toulouse. I duly walked the further 800m or more but when I arrived was immediately asked if I'd made a reservation. Of course my initial reaction was to wonder just how many pilgrims there were in Toulouse this day! As it turned out, the very helpful owner explained that a) they didn't only take pilgrims but basically anybody who wanted to stay in Toulouse for 22 euros per night, and that actually they had stopped taking pilgrims after a case of bed bugs had cost them dearly, and b) For some reason Toulouse was experiencing a very busy September.
They were kind and phoned around for me, but everywhere they suggested (and phoned) was full. Finally, before deciding on whether to spend upwards of 50 euros for a room, plus food or leave Toulouse (not desirable) I followed their suggestion to go and ask at St Sernin, which I duly did.
The events that then unfolded made me feel that there actually is something a bit special about being on this journey, even if I'm only a few days into it. It goes like this basically:
I discover the church full of tourists and guides but no apparent clergy or officials. I finally located one chap in a white shirt who confirmed he worked in the church. As he pointed me to the "Accueil de Pelerins" (that I hadn't noticed!) and assumed I simply wanted my passport stamped, I was greeted by another very friendly chap who took me inside and did precisely that. But I then explained my difficulties in locating somewhere to sleep, which comprised a fairly extensive list of dead-ends. He then said that in assisting pilgrims he was able to offer a "family welcome" (I prefer the French but realise that some of you reading this don't speak it) and asked whether that would be acceptable to me. Since this was exactly the sort of thing I'd been hoping for in the first instance of course I agreed. He then said that the family he was thinking of was his own! So, without further ado we left the office and headed for his home. He explained en route that he had been due to leave the church some six minutes earlier but had been delayed, and was heading for the door as he noticed me. Talk about timing! I snapped another view as we left the church:
So, I passsed an excellent evening in the home of this kind gentleman and his wife. Since he explained to me that he doesn't advertise this hospitality for the sake of not being bombarded, I shall refrain from mentioning names. But what a wonderful evening. When his wife cooked a ratatouille and rice and placed it on the table, and I explained that this was precisely what a pilgrim needs, she replied by saying that she'd cooked it specially. And her husband managed to find a rather nice bottle of Bordeaux to go with it. Wow!
On top of all this, he was a keen pilgrim himself, having walked many different parts of the camino himself, and he was only too keen to get out maps and guides, write down instructions for me (since his printer was out of ink. The poor guy wrote four sides of A4 for me!) and generally share all sorts of advice about walking the camino.
I slept very well under a small crucifix and olive branch and was impressed actually that despite their obvious religious leanings, they never once attempted to raise the matter or ask about my beliefs (or lack of). I have to admit that I have been genuinely touched by the absolute kindness and help given to a total stranger in the name of assisting the pilgrimage.
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