Four times now I’ve marched out of Nasbinals in the crisp cool of early morning, with a long day’s walk ahead. And did I ever get lucky this time with the weather, as the skies were already cloudless at 6:15 and before long they had a sapphiric quality to them. Climbing steadily, I left humanity behind and immersed myself among the cows, who rule these heights in the summer. That includes the trail, and where other cows can be skittish, these are self-assured and regal beasts, unlikely to give much regard for a puny human’s desired path. Instead, I zigzagged around my bovine overlords, playing my favorite trail game: “Hope that’s mud!”
I arrived in Aubrac today around the same time that I did on each of those previous three journeys. But wow, how different it was this time! It’s always been a challenge to find anything to eat in Aubrac at that hour; even a coffee was hit-or-miss. This time, though, the café at the entrance to town was throwing out the welcome mat, with a sign promising milkshakes for 4.5 euros. (I have not yet succumbed to the breakfast milkshake; it seems hard to go back from that.) Just a bit further, in the center, the new bakery had a small but mighty selection, and I soon had a blueberry tart in hand, washing it down afterward with a chocolatine. Two other new (or, at least, new-to-me) cafés were also open or close to it. Admittedly, I’ve never experienced it in the afternoon or evening, but this is the first time the village struck me as lively and flourishing.
While that was a change from my previous three trips, the bigger change came soon after: I was leaving the GR-65 in order to walk through the Bonneval Abbey. I’ve never had the chance to make this detour and I was looking forward to it.
Let me tell you: it was hard. It’s certainly not meant to be taken in a straight shot as I did, so keep that in mind, but I got the distinct impression that I was the first person walking some of these trails in a very long while. Some footpaths early on were muddy, borderline boggy. Others were so overgrown that I was wading through waste high weeds and bushes, only feeling confident about the route because of the stone walls on either side and my gps. There were faded sky blue stripes marking the way, but these too were showing their age. As I descended, the massively overgrown trails gave way to clearer trails with sticker bushes intruding at selected points. Not enough to impeded; just enough to annoy. And while the whole route was a constant series of ups and downs, there were a few killer descents that were wet, muddy, and strewn with broken branches. There was plenty of shade, though! It was a good reminder of just how well cared for the GR-65 is. Every part of that trail is immaculate in comparison.
There’s only one town of any size along the way—Condom d’Aubrac. Not a lot going on there! The church looks impressive from a distance, but the interior is more humble, though with a big Saint Roch statue waiting to greet pilgrims (well, me) as they arrive. The old café across the way is closed. The mairie, by comparison, is modern and shiny. I was grateful for the picnic bench out front, though, as I reclined for a bit and wrung out my socks.
The final approach to Bonneval involves one of those ankle-breaking descents, followed by a crossing of an elegant medieval bridge (with a sign warning of llamas, for some reason), and an abrupt ascent right back up the other side. Sadly (for me), the abbey is currently undergoing renovations, so I wasn’t able to see much. I damn near left before I realized I could slip around the side, going all the way to the back, and thus gain access to the church. The austere interior had very little in the way of adornment, but six nuns were deeply engaged in worship and others were on the way.
While this variant ends in Espalion, for a number of reasons that I won’t bore you with, I needed to get to Saint-Come-d’Olt. In this case, the shortest option was the best option, so I followed the highway back. It got the job done. And now I’m in pilgrim paradise, at the Gite del Roumiou, with Sylvain and Sabine. They’ve also started a food truck operation, so dinner tonight will feature some of their creative concoctions from that vehicle in front of the church. And in the meantime, I’m chugging a liter of juice, eating a goat cheese/walnut/honey tart, and absolutely enjoying the feeling of sitting in their dining room / kitchen as they go about their work.
As for the Bonneval detour as a whole, it’s certainly a distinct experience from the GR-65. The terrain is challenging and heavily wooded. If I could have stayed in the abbey—or, you know, gone in the abbey—I suspect I would feel a deeper satisfaction from the journey. I’d like to have that experience sometime and I’m sure the trails will get some upkeep soon.
Anyway, back to the GR-65 tomorrow!
