Camino v3 - Day 13: St Jean to Sorde de l' Abbaye (63km)

I'm stopped on the side of the road - I've given myself permission to take the main road for the first part of today's ride, making the hills a little easier. I've stopped for a drink and sunscreen break. As I tilt my head back to drink from my water bottle I look up to the sky to see a large flock of vultures circling in the thermals above me. I assume that's what they are doing and that they are not circling over me with some other intention.

Slow down - time to stop and smell the flowers

Vegemite in the Basque country

It was a late departure this morning; an enormous breakfast and some interesting conversations, including a discussion about the merits of electric bikes with a Franco-Canadian-Brazilian couple. Jean-François, the host, comes in and with a triumphant flourish, produces a jar of Vegemite he's acquired for me. A really nice touch, considering four years have passed since I was last here, and I've never expressed any interest in Vegemite. Still, I am Australian and so must like Vegemite. The Brazilian expresses an interest and gets to try some, which he actually claims to like. A convert perhaps?

One of the advantages of riding on a larger road - there are not many, but there are some - is roadside rest areas: shade, table and chairs, maybe even a rubbish bin. As it happens, as I spot a nice-looking rest area it's exactly twelve o'clock, so it's officially lunch time, even though I haven't normally been stopping for lunch. Jean-François has insisted that I take some food from the heavily-laden breakfast table with me for lunch, so now's the time to have some. Shortly after I've arrived, two almost identical camper-vans (motor homes) pull into the rest area, neatly parking next to each other. Doors open, a table and chairs appear and within a minute or so the table has been set complete with a table cloth. Bottles of water and, of course, wine appear and lunch is served. Grey nomads French style. There are a lot of camper-vans in France, huge numbers. As I've been riding through the country it has struck me how many houses have a camper-van parked outside, often under a purpose-built shelter next to the house. Perhaps I should do my next Camino by camper-van. Later on in my journey I will meet someone who is sort-of doing just that.

So here I am, riding back to Tours. Normally I try to avoid driving or riding back the same way I've come, so that I get to see something new. Then again, riding back means a whole new perspective (180 degrees different in fact) than the ride down. And there's also something to be said for recognising certain key spots: there's the bench seat under the tree where I had a banana stop, there's the place I had a pee break, and so forth. You get to re-live the highlights of the outward bound trip this way.

Old  gravestones of pilgrims who didn't make it

On the way down I had to make a detour, in the rain, for the bridge which wasn't there. Armed with this knowledge, I can plan my return route a little better and I head cross-country instead of following the route, finding a nice piste cyclable that follows an old railway line and which crosses the river using the old railway bridge, the same one I used on the way down. But I come undone at the point where according to my map my nice piste crosses the road - where I had planned to rejoin the route. When I arrive at what I expect to be an intersection my mistake is clear; the old railway line I'm following goes under the road, and there's nothing for it but to retrace my steps for a kilometre or so to find another track which does meet the road.

It's hot, I'm riding in the full sun and I've had about enough, so Sorde de l'Abbaye, where there's a pilgrim refuge, becomes my destination. I remember there's also a little restaurant in the town so dinner should be taken care of too. I arrive at the hostel just after another bike rider; the caretaker greets me with "Have you booked?" This is not a good sign, but it turns out there are enough beds. The restaurant, however, is closed for dinner (of course). All is not lost though and the hostel turns out to have quite a few provisions to prepare a meal with, and the whole thing, accommodation and food is 'donativo' which essentially means there's an honour system and you give as much as you are able. There's going to be the other bike rider and me, plus four walkers (who have booked) so it could be an interesting evening.

Postcard from Sorde l'Abbaye

In fact it turns out there's only two other walkers; the other two who booked are also bike riders. And when I return to the hostel after visiting the abbey and church I'm greeted by a familiar face: Sophie, the girl who I accompanied for the last part of her walk in Les Landes, is one of the two walkers. She is already expecting me since she's seen my bike. She's obviously recovered and is in good spirits which is nice to see; when I last saw her she was in a bit of a slump. So by retracing my steps I've caught up with the walkers.

Ruins of the old Abbey

I realise that this is my first night in a dormitory on this part of the Camino. With all the advantages and disadvantages. It's great to have a group of people who've never met before, or if they have it's been on the Camino. Everyone has the Camino in common and there's generally a great ambience; everybody pitches in and contributes. The two French bike riders have taken it upon themselves to cook, which will probably mean that the others (including me) will be doing dishes. And then there's always one, in this case a young German, who doesn't quite fit in or is the one whose body odour and smelly feet permeate the dormitory. Let's hope he's not also the snorer.

The two French riders are recently retired policemen; this is their first long bike ride together. After dinner we compare notes and since I've just ridden the route they are planning to ride they are looking for tips. Also, they've just ridden 130 km today when they should have ridden less than 100. "We followed the GPS" they explain. "We were on a really nice bike path and then the GPS told us to turn left, so we did. We ended up near the coast." The coast is, of course, in completely the opposite direction to where they should have been heading. Quite a detour. I suggest that perhaps they should get a map and it turns out they have not only a map, but also a guide, neither of which they were in fact using. We look at the map for their route tomorrow and then also for the route through Spain, which I think they have underestimated. They expect to cover a lot more ground than they are likely to; they were (blissfully) unaware that the route in Spain goes right over the Picos de Europa with some very high passes and steep grades.

Mosaics in the Church at Sorde l'Abbaye

I am the last to go to the dormitory and I have to open the window; the stink of the young German's unwashed body and feet is overpowering. Luckily it's not too cold and the window stays open all night.