Camino 3 days on the trail Day 5: Friday 18th July 2025
Monistrol D’Allier to Saugues
The forecast was for very high temperatures over 30oC, so, with a steep climb from Monistrol ahead, I elected to depart by 7am before breakfast, and leave Paul to meet his brother, Mark, and friend Barney when they arrive a couple of hours later.
I enjoyed walking in the cool of the early morning, walking mostly in shade, due to the forest lining the steep hill. Walking on my own was fine; my frequent practice at home, a time to collect my thoughts in a different way than in conversation with Paul.
First major stop was with a yellow house (no other houses are painted; all just stone and mortar so it stands out) at the bottom/of an incline, a few yards beyond a standard Camino WC wooden shed. The loo had a pedal which had to be pressed 5 times to operate a conveyor belt to remove all the waste; clever. No running water required.
A woman was leading a small herd of cows up the road, so I stood to one side to allow them to saunter past. Two dogs and the farmer on a buggy at the rear made sure there were no stragglers.
It’s 10am now, and the heat is pouring down. Sun cream on. I’m glad I started early. WhatsApp texts tell me that Paul, Mark, and Barney have met and are making good progress up the hill.
I meet the same cheerful Franciscan mob again and end up discovering that they’re being transported by minibus everywhere and only walking short sections…hardly in keeping with the hardy pilgrims of yesteryear! I receive another blessing and a gift of a silver St Francis, and they’re gone, dust flying from the tyres of their minibus on the road to Saugues only 2.6km away.
I reach the hill overlooking Saugues with its array of totem poles…and a roadside shack selling food and drinks. I have a coffee, remove shirt to dry off, and set off down the long, steep hill into Saugues. Reaching the bottom, I realise I’ve left my walking pole at the shack. Nothing for it but to slog back up.
Reaching Saugues, which appears to be a metropolis compared to the rural remoteness of the past three days, I’m aware of people bustling around, barely looking at each other, from shop to shop. Why this unfriendliness? Maybe it’s simply a mathematical function of crowd density; you can’t say ‘Bonjour!’ to everyone, but the absence of smiles is noticeable.
I retreat to the church to cool off.
Eventually, I find fellow Camino walkers tucking into coffees and crepes at a café and join them. A married couple and a female friend. An hour or so later, Paul, Mark, and Barney arrive just as the others are leaving; an efficient handover!
Good to be reunited with Paul and to meet his brother and Barney. We swap tales until I saunter off to buy a postcard and to flop down at the bus stop waiting for the Compostel’ Bus us at 4pm.
I move just a few yards away from the shelter to a bench in the shade with a slight breeze coming up from the road below. It’s significantly cooler. A French Camino walker joins me. He’s at a personal crossroads, using his time on the trail to think through what to do for the best for others, including his wife of three years and their daughter. He’s clearly facing a difficult decision. I have my guesses, but there’s no need to know the details; one recognises a mid-life crisis when one sees it so clearly. I mention Richard Rohr’s Falling Upwards.
This is a typical conversation on the Camino. Scratch the surface and there’s often deeper reasons for becoming a pilgrim…we all carry our own load. He only had two days on the Camino and acknowledged that it wasn’t sufficient, but maybe a useful stepping stone – he’d missed his wedding anniversary to be on the walk.
Behind the scenes, Tim J. has been booking a BlaBla car on my behalf. The transfer from the bus to the BlaBla works seamlessly: the bus arrives in Le Puy at 5.15. I walk to the Ibis, go to loo, freshen up a little, change shirt, collect the smaller rucksack left at the hotel, and walk across to find the BlaBla driver, Sabina, in the railway station with her friend Elidi. Sabina is all smiles, and we are driving away shortly after 5.30.
They’ve been on the Camino for ten days, reaching Conques.
Much conversation in spurts. Sabina is coy about her reason for being on the Camino, limiting her answer to ‘Love’ with a smile. Elidi is, like me, accompanying her friend. It turns out that Elidi is off work due to a frozen shoulder. I swap my story.
The conversation turns theological after a while, and at the end of the journey, I ask Sabrina to place her hand on Elidi’s shoulder whilst I say a quick prayer for healing.
Transfer to Tim, who’s arrived to drive me back to his house and to meet Evelyne.
My Camino adventure is over.
Yes, I would like to do more. Maybe as in the film, The Way, to start at the Pyrenees, but the Two Moors walk may be the next walking challenge, across Dartmoor and Exmoor.
