Camino v3 - Day 1: Chemillé to Veigné (66km)

Bagpipes. Not really what you'd expect to be listening to at the end of your first day's ride in France on the Chemin de Compostelle (Camino de Santiago). But here I am, sitting in a small shelter on the banks of the Indre river in Veigné, listening to someone playing bagpipes; it's the same tune over and over and it's coming from the music school which now occupies the old mill building - an attractive multi storey place on the banks of the river, with large sprays colour under every window from the boxes of geraniums. Water sluicing through the mill sluice, kids playing, cars rushing over the bridge, and bagpipes. The evening sounds of Veigné.

Setting off  - in the rain

The fishermen (why are they always men?) are packing up and walking back to their cars carrying their rods. Why is it that you never see them carrying any actual fish? It seems the attraction of fishing is not necessarily the actual catching of fish. The bells of the local church toll the hour. I can see the church spire from my riverbank vantage point; it's an interesting stone spire, quite unusual and no doubt quite an engineering feat.

Rain - and interesting skies

Today's ride, the first of this third and final phase of the Camino de Santiago, starts in the drizzle. I am tempted to postpone my departure but of course I can't do that. Mind you after two kilometres I realise that, despite my pre-departure checklist, I've forgotten to turn the water off and so have to re-trace my steps (pedals?), turn the water off, and start again. It keeps drizzling though, and does so for most of the morning, stopping only when I reach Tours. Good timing, since it allows me to sit outside with my morning (early afternoon actually) coffee at 'Le Petit Atelier', a coffee shop that actually makes decent coffee and which thankfully is still there (it's been a couple of years since I was last there.)

Patriotic tractor and wildflowers

I am seated at a table between a couple of guys on one side and a couple of girls on the other. The guy is explaining, in French of course, to his companion that he'd rather learn to speak two dead languages (Latin and ?) than speak English. As I have come in part way through their conversation I am of course missing the context of this statement. He looks across at my coffee (a decent flat white complete with latte art) and comments to his companion on how nice it looks. So I take the opportunity to explain to him that it was called a 'flat white' noting that occasionally it actually comes in handy to know some English. "I'm English" he says (in French). This statement is somewhat unexpected, given his earlier comment. "Half Polish and half English - and half French" he adds, by way of explanation. At which point my female neighbour on my other side (covered in tattoos and who is obviously listening in) joins in to explain what an impossibly complex language Polish is. She then notices the Coquille St. Jacques (the symbol of the Camino de Santiago) I have on my bike and we have a conversation about the pilgrimage and its history. It is an interesting first coffee stop.

Later, leaving Tours, I am greeted by a guy calling out: "Buen Camino" - taking me back four years to my first Camino, in Spain, where you heard this repeatedly throughout the day. It really is an interesting start to the journey.

Self Portrait and confirmation that I'm on the right track

At Veigné, about 20 km south of Tours, I've had enough for the day. I know there is a pilgrim's "gîte" in the town, so I go to the local Mairie (town hall) and sure enough, they have the key. For the princely sum of 5 euros I have a bed for the night, as well as the first stamp for my credencial (pilgrim's passport) for this trip.

My first night's accommodation

My room mates are an older (probably about my age if truth be told) woman and her impossibly skinny son. "He's difficult" she explains when he left the room, "but aren't all children?" She has walked all day to arrive in Veigné and meet up with him; he has arrived by car. Their plan is to walk together for several days (I get the impression it is to be a bit of a bonding exercise) although he doesn't appear to be at all prepared. I think this may have prompted, at least in part, her "difficult" comment.

It's Monday and, of course, all the restaurants in town - there are not that many - are closed, including the one at the local camping ground which according to the person at the Mairie would be open. So it's back on the bike again to ride to the next town - a few kilometres away - to the closest supermarket which is open, to buy some things to make myself dinner. So my first night of the Chemin de Compostelle is appropriately spent in a pilgrim refuge making my own dinner.

Veigné - music school (with bagpipes)