Beyond the Horizon: Walking Into the Heart of the Camino Le Puy

As we crossed the threshold of Day 10 on the Camino Le Puy, the journey had already begun to carve its way into our minds and bodies. The first stretch was a whirlwind of highs and lows—moments of grueling physical demands of the trail interspersed with budding reflections. By now, my walking partner, Rick, and I had settled into a rhythm.  Rick even commented, “I think we’ve hit our stride.” The days behind us were filled with vibrant landscapes, unexpected friendships, and a deepening understanding of why we walk. Yet, as we moved forward, it became clear that the Camino was far from finished with us.

In these next five days, the Camino shifted its focus, guiding us from the physical endurance of the early stages to a more introspective journey. Each step brought new insights, whether through the quiet solitude of the trail, the heartfelt conversations with fellow pilgrims, or the simple act of noticing—colors, sounds, and even the small struggles that mirrored the larger journey of life. The challenges didn’t disappear; in fact, they grew more nuanced, teaching us to adapt, to reflect, and to embrace the journey one step at a time.

These were days of connection—both with others and with ourselves. From the poetic musings of a fellow pilgrim to the comforting routine of daily rituals, each moment seemed to carry a deeper significance. It was as if the Camino, with its endless path and ancient traditions, was gently nudging me to slow down, to pay attention, and to let the journey unfold in its own time.

As we ventured from Espeyrac to Cahors, the Camino continued offering lessons in resilience, patience, and the importance of taking things one day at a time. The road ahead was still long, but with each passing day, we grew more attuned to the subtle rhythms of the pilgrimage. 

Day 10 - “Pus Pus”

Espeyrac to Conques (Gite d’etape Chez Francois)

8.0 miles

3 hours

There was something magical in the air today.  Maybe it was the weather - perfect.  Maybe it was the distance - not too long.  Maybe it was the village - beautiful.  Maybe it was the beer - plentiful.  By noon we were done walking, our butts planted on a wall across from a restaurant and adjacent to the cathedral - a five-way intersection of people flowing in all directions.  

“Smile and wave… just smile and wave…”  and we did.  We were happy and relaxed and said said “Bonjour” to all passers-by.  It became a game, get a bonjour back, get a point.  No return bonjour, lose a point.  I got the first snub.  An old guy, well-dressed, and clearly a local who wasn’t a fan of tourism (the only thing keeping the town alive).  Later, Rick got snubbed and tried the rare re-attempt bonjour.  This got her attention to which she snapped in English, “You’re too aggressive.”  The game went on with much success.  I might have fallen in love with a local woman delivering bread had she stopped to talk instead of smiling and walking on. But the day progressed.  

Fenton and Coleman made it into town, and Fenton blessed us with more poetry. I was telling Rick that the day before, he would recite poetry while we were walking. His delivery is impeccable. He brought tears to our eyes. An Englishman named Angus joined us, and when Fenton heard his name, he popped up and recited a poem by Yeats, “The Song of Wandering Aengus.” Incredible.

We drank, sang, and had fun all afternoon.  Our server was Swedish, and I don’t think she’d ever seen such a spectacle.  I only know one Swedish word, “Pus,” which means kiss.  After she had delivered our umpteenth round of beer, I told her, “Pus Pus.”  She smiled, shook her head, and went inside.

The evening ended with a Pilgrims’ Mass at the cathedral.  I suppose it was impressive if you speak French.  

Day 11: I WANT A SLURPY 

Conques to Livinhac-Le-Haut (Gite “sur le chemin”)

15.8 miles

6.25 hours

Remember Day 2 and how hard it was?  Today’s climb, albeit short, was brutal in comparison.  It was basically rock climbing for 1.5 km, but the view from the top was magical.  I took a coffe break at the first opportunity and ran into a man named Didier.  He’s a wine producer from Cahors.  Like all the French, he’s fast.  We would pass each other throughout the day.

Today was about pain. My feet hurt. I wanted a slurpy. I settled for a lemon granita, which consumed the only four ice cubes in the village. The bar owner invited us to dinner, but while Rick was waiting for me, he was offered a ride to the local grocery store since everything was closed in this little village. We had a dinner of rotisserie chicken sandwiches, which have never tasted so good. At the bar, I ran into Priscille, a woman we convinced to sing with us in Conques.  She expressed an interest in walking together tomorrow.  Of course.  Let’s walk.  With nothing scheduled but the destination, we had to rely on the Camino to put us together.

Before going to bed, I did a little yoga in the backyard next to a table of ladies playing scrabble (in French!).  It felt good to stretch…

Day 12: Alone with my Thoughts 

Tuesday 27 August

Livinhac-le-Haut to Figeac (La Faubourg)

15.5 miles

5.5 hrs

The Donkey.  It’s a love-hate relationship.  In order to have Donkey transported from place to place, you need to (1) know where you’re going and (2) phone in the pickup order before 7 pm.  A typical day has us ending our walk mid-afternoon (for Rick, it’s often noon or 1 - for me, it’s 2 - 4).  You would think that would provide ample time to book tomorrow’s lodging and phone the transport service, but there’s recovery time, shower time, laundry time, snack time, and the all-important beer time.  All of a sudden, it’s 6:45…  Needless to say, yesterday I didn’t call in the transport order until too late, which means today I had to wait around until 7:30 AM to make sure Donkey would be picked up.   Today it worked out just fine, but I’m a solid 90 minutes behind Rick at this point.  I set out, forgetting to start Strava.  

A few miles later, I came upon two women from Australia, Mary and Muriel.  Both were sixty to seventy years old with kids and grandkids.  Muriel is a widow, and Mary is married.  They have done several Caminos over the years, including Camino Australia, where they encountered several Brown Snakes (Aussies are fantastic at giving nicknames but stick to boring, descriptive formal names, e.g., Australian Capital Territory, South Australia).  I yelled, “Snake!” just as Mary was about to step on one of the local varieties.  And only an Aussie would heed that warning with such practiced precision.  She stopped instantly, and they both survived to see another day.

Later, after a picnic lunch under a fig tree next to a statue of Joan D’Arc, I caught up with Priscille and her French posse of friends.  Priscille and I walked together for the last 4-5 km into Figeac.  In Conques, she was very intrigued when I mentioned using the Camino for transitioning into retirement and wanted to learn more.  She also gave me her story.  She’s been on a journey for several years.  She’s currently struggling with the loss of her best friend and father.  She’s gaining her footing back through Caminos.  Last year she walked 55 days from Le Puy to Santiago - an amazing feat.  Today was her last day.  She’s going home to Aix, awaiting word from a potential employer as a nutritionist.  I wish her great success.  She’s an amazing person, full of life, intelligence, and motivation.  I hope we can stay in touch.  I could use a nutritionist on the Step & Leap team!

Angus, Rick and I found a pergola to escape the afternoon sun. Didier popped by to say hello as did Ricardo.  We enjoyed happy hour and migrated to a pub for dinner.  Angus is quite the conversationalist.  Although tomorrow he is heading on a variant, I hope to catch him later on this route.

Day 13: Conversations and Contemplations - The Path to Cajarc

Wednesday 28 August

Figeac to Cajarc (Hotel La Payrade)

21 miles

7 hrs

Leaving Figeac I thought for a long time about my interaction with Priscille.  She was incredibly open and honest and engaging.  She’s clearly on a journey as well.  I hope our paths will cross again.

It’s a beautiful morning and I stumble across a gite with a donation-based rest stop which is where I met the host, Alex.  Alex discovered the gite last year on his Camino.  He was taking the Camino as part of a major transition in his life.  I didn’t ask but I suspected divorce or loss of a loved one based on his age and body language.  Earlier in the day I was contemplating the timing of transformative travel and came to the conclusion that for most people, the travel should be later in the transitional phase.  I think it’s too hard for many people to start with a blank slate while walking.  But having done prior thinking on a subject (e.g., my purpose, my passions, my values), the Camino affords time for refinement and clarification.  So I asked Alex about the process he went through and he used his Camino in exactly the way I envisioned, as a means to confirm his decisions and purpose.  In two weeks, Alex will be heading to Mongolia and Vietnam to volunteer and teach.  

Cajarc was a pretty little riverside town.  We had a pasta dinner which was a nice change of pace from the normal slab of beef or hamburger.  Last year I took pictures of bicycles used as art.  In Cajarc there is a whole street decorated this way.  

Day 14: Stone Cabins and Silent Paths

Cajarc to Varaire (Gite Clos des Escoutilles - “Closed Hatches”)

17 miles

6 hrs

I don’t remember much from this day.  I stopped in Limogne for lunch where the bartender directed me around the corner to buy a sandwich.  I later encountered the same guy.  He was the boyfriend of the woman who served us pizza in Varaire.

There was a memorable section of the road between Limogne and Varaire called Rue de Cabanes.  There were a few dozen old, run-down, stone cabins along a stretch of several miles.  Each cabin had 10-20 acres of land.  Maybe it was an old hunting ground???  I asked but didn’t find an answer. 

I remember feeling good at the end of the day. Physically, I could have gone farther. The gite we reserved was amazing. Louise and Patrice host a wonderful gite with a pool and a beer fridge. We took a swim, using the required euro-style swim costumes, which fit two XL American guys tight like a glove on OJ’s hand.  After a swim and a shower, we wandered into town. It was dead until 4 pm when the local market opened.  We bought food for tomorrow (a long day without many food and water stops) and some beer and wine to enjoy at the gite while we waited until 7pm for dinner service to start.  

Apparently, bringing beer and wine back to the gite was a no-no.  Patrice gave me a frantic tongue-lashing.  I apologized profusely, but the language gap was problematic as I would learn the next day.  

After dinner, we returned to the gite and were lucky enough to get the other guests singing along with us.  Jim, 72 years old with Parkinson’s Disease, stood and soloed a few Irish tunes.  It was a magical evening.

Day 15: Hot Miles and Hard Lessons

Varaire to Cahors (Auberge de Jeunesse)

21.3 miles

7.75 hours

Rick departed promptly at 6, while I had breakfast at the gite with another guest, Roman. In July, Roman was laid off from his job of 34 years. He was using the Camino to figure out what he wanted to do next. He’s decided to go back to work after getting a certificate in supply chain operations. The Camino provided him clarity on his decision, and it continues to help me refine and shape my decisions related to the Step & Leap program.

A couple hours into the day, I received a text message from Louise that we had been reported to the Gite operators community as being disrespectful guests.  Her string of text messages closed with “Good luck finding future accommodations.”  I was distraught and had to think about this for a couple of hours.  Of course, I would and did send her a heart felt apology.  But I didn’t know how she would respond.  While walking, I decided that my actions were not dependent on her response.  No matter what, I would recommend her gite.  After all, it was a beautifully appointed gite, and ultimately it was my fault for not understanding her rules and her language.

Despite leaving 2 hours ahead of me, I caught up to Jim and Eileen about halfway through the day.  They were resting on a rocky, steep ascent.  They caught up to me at a rest stop (with crepes!) and we chatted a little more.  Jim was looking tired.

I finished the day strong, but I needed a rest day. I decided that would be tomorrow.  Rick, having a new personal deadline, needs to move on.  This would be our last evening together.  I’m sure he’s happy to get away from my snoring.  Jost joined us for happy hour and dinner.  

Day 16: Bon Chemin Rick!

Cahors

Saturday 31 August

Rest Day

18,992 steps

With little fanfare, promptly at 6, Rick departed for the next stage.  We hugged and wished each other a “Bon Chemin.”  It was strange but felt like the right decision for both of us.  We are enjoying the same Camino differently.  Rick is up early and promptly out the door.  I like to linger, have a cup of coffee, and struggle through the afternoon heat.  Even if we left at the same time, my stride is about 2500 steps per mile while Rick’s stride is closer to 4 steps per mile.  He quickly outpaces me.  It makes sense, and we both have our own issues to process and get through.     

Donkey never arrived the day before, so I had to stay around to recover it. Also, I decided to ship the laptop and other excess weight to Bordeaux, the site of a friend’s wedding, in three weeks. No more Donkey for me. Bye-bye…

I enjoyed my Saturday. I went to the market by the cathedral, got a haircut, and walked around the river waterfront park. There, I discovered a series of signs representing the five senses: Taste, Touch, Smell, Sight, and Sound.  In my previous blog I talked about walking meditation and noticing different colors and smells and sights.  I’ve picked fresh berries and figs and I’ve listened to the winds and birds.  Touch remains unnoticed…  I did notice a lot of poison oak and poison ivy so maybe I’ll stay away from touching the plants.  I had a long call, catching up with my son.  He suggested getting in touch with my spiritual side.  So there’s a little hint on what’s coming up next.

Unfortunately, I have to rest for two days in Cahor because of Donkey’s tardiness and the fact that it’s a weekend and the post office closes at noon on Saturday.  It felt weird not to be walking.  The routine has been established and it will be nice to get back into that groove.  The delay puts at risk my desired finish location, Pamplona.  But I will adapt as needed.  I’m learning that pushing too hard isn’t fun.  Let’s see what the next half shall bring.  

Reflections on the Past Several Days

The struggle is real but as Jim and Eileen say, “just take it one step at a time.”  They truly were inspirational.  Jim is afflicted with a horrible disease that I know all to well from my father’s experience.  Yet here he is taking it step by step.  He’s going out there every day and doing the same distance as me.  I am incredibly lucky with my health.  We all have aches and pains but you won’t catch me complaining about it after witnessing Jim.  I also feel for Eileen. I know she must be struggling with the effects of the disease on the man she loves.  I, too, saw that with my mom and dad.  It’s so hard, but that’s life.  Eileen told me to never make a decision in the evening after walking.  Wait until the morning.  You’ll be surprised how different and better you feel. Sage words, Eileen…

I’ve also been witness to grief and loss that I’ve not experienced.  The shock of suicide and aneurysms and the sudden loss of life.  The daily struggle of addictions.   I’m lucky and grateful that these things haven’t affected me (yet?), but I’m also hopeful that the Caminos I’m, undertaking now are a productive struggle in preparing me for the future.  Hopefully, this investment will pay off in the future.  

A friend recently told me that he looks at me as someone who always tackles life optimistically.  He looks at me as someone who always has a good outlook and that I serve as a model for him as he’s going through health crisises with his wife and father.   That meant a great deal to me as I strive to live in the manner that he described.  I can only hope that when true grief hits me, I’m prepared and can continue this positive position in life.  

I’ve seen a lot of snails crossing the path.  They’re slowly making their way to the other side.  Are they conscious of this journey?  Why did they start across the road in the first place?  Like mine, I bet their journey takes all day.  At least I can count my steps, see my progress, know that I’m going to soon have a snack, and know that a handful of salt will replenish my electrolytes (and not kill me).  

Onward to the second half of this Camino.  It’s going to be rainy and muddy.  One step at a time.