Today’s walk split into two main chunks. First, I walked the variant from Lalbenque to Lhospitalet, rejoining the GR65 soon after, shortly after the village of Labastide-Marnhac. From there, I followed the GR65 to just after Lascabanes. As an epilogue, of sorts, I deviated from the GR65 one last time at the walk’s end in order to reach the gite at the Couvent d’Escayrac, roughly 1.5km off-route. Some thoughts follow on four big things that are on my mind after the last couple of days:
1) The Lalbenque-Lhospitalet variant: This approach splits off from the GR65 around Mas de Vers, though it’s possible to go directly from Vaylats to Lalbenque, shaving off some kms in the process. It bypasses Cahors completely, though there are pilgrims who stay in Lalbenque and then double-back to the GR65 at a later point. (Others take advantage of the offer by Gite Mango’s host to get picked up in Mas de Vers and returned there the next morning, earning them a night in a larger town without adding any walking.) The route from Lalbenque is well marked, following orange stripes with occasional scallop shells. I haven’t calculated it yet, but my impression was that a majority of it was unpaved. It’s probably around 25km to Lascabanes.
Why do it? Gosh, I’m not entirely sure. I suppose some people might find Cahors too urban and not consistent with what they’re looking for on this pilgrimage. This solves that problem, while doubling as a short-cut. That strikes me as the most compelling reason. It’s quiet and easy walking.
I’m more drawn to the two endpoints than the walk between them. As noted above, Lalbenque is a viable overnight destination, whether on foot or through the host’s wheels, and it makes for a potentially interesting stop. I saw it in the worst possible light, with absolutely everything closed. Truffle fans, in particular, might find it worthwhile. Menawhile, Lhospitalet is a very simple, very short detour from the GR65 after Labastide-Marnhac. It has a pilgrim gite, a bakery (which offers pizzas), and a café/restaurant that makes burgers and tacos. You could do a lot worse.
2) Rain: If you’ve been reading my posts from this trip, you’ve probably noticed that there’s been unseasonably wet weather. But what does that actually mean?
Well, look at the two pictures posted above. The first is from July 12, 2018. The second is from today’s walk—July 15, 2021. Same spot in Lascabanes. That’s what it means.
3) Escayrac: This donation-based gite, located just a bit off the chemin, is a very nice little place. Just 7-8 beds, supported by volunteer hosts. My two hosts, alas, have had very few pilgrims—none the last three nights and only me tonight! While the convent, it turns out, is empty and largely unused, the local priest comes by to run a service for pilgrims in the evening.
One interesting detail I picked up from a map they provide is that there are several different ways to reconnect with the GR65 from here. You can go directly back, doubling back to the north; in that case, it’s roughly 10km to Montcuq. It’s also possible, though, to head due west, following a mix of tracks, and in that case it’s only 8km to Montlauzun, though that bypasses Montcuq. Another short-cut option, for those needing to shed some kms.
4) Vegetarian on the Chemin: First off, it’s very easy being vegetarian here. Vegan would be a lot harder and I don’t have specific experiences to speak to that, though hosts tend to be quite accommodating. It’s important to note that, in the minds of many French people, being vegetarian means that you eat fish. In all of your communications, you should not only be clear about requesting a vegetarian meal, but also clear about what you mean by “vegetarian.” I always specifically say that YES, I eat eggs and cheese, but NO, I do not eat fish or meat of any kind. I remind the host of this when I reconfirm my reservation.
Vegetarian dinners in gites tend to fall into one of three categories:
a) Substitution: The meat portion of the meal is replaced with something veggie-friendly, most likely a two-egg omelette, or a pair of fried eggs. The remainder of the meal is identical for vegetarians and omnivores alike. Be prepared for the fact that your host may have a more liberal understanding of what constitutes a meat-free dish than you do. For example, at one place the host viewed a small amount of bacon chunks mixed into stewed vegetables to be inconsequential, just warning that I might want to pick around them. Some vegetarians can work with that; others would reject the dish entirely
b) Subtraction: In the rarest and saddest of cases, the protein is removed and the remainder of the dish is served. For example, one night the main meal consisted of sauteed carrot and zucchini slices served with beef and rice. I got the vegetables and a dollop of rice. It was underwhelming. It’s also an exception to the rule of generally very satisfying vegetarian pilgrim dinners
c) Central: On these occasions, the entire dinner is conceived of from a vegetarian’s perspective. Dishes are creative, integrating a wider array of ingredients, with entrees that are not as classically structured around protein + sides. Gite Papillon Vert, a vegetarian gite in Cahors, offers a delicious soup, a salad composed of multiple greens and a wide array of chopped vegetables (complete with a homemade dressing and nutritional toppings), two different savory tarts, and fingerling potatoes. Gite del Roumiou in Saint-Côme-d’Olt has curries and daal and all kinds of different dips (hummus, olive tapenade, carrot-cumin, and so on). You may not get a classically French meal in these gites, but you will get something quite distinctive in comparison to your other stops
I’ve never had a gite not agree to prepare a vegetarian meal on my behalf, but I always reserve ahead.
