Pilgrimage Route to St. James of Compostella

Martha Marino

Day 2 & 3: From Bon Encontre to Agen de Valance and Moissac

Not even my guide book, “Cycling Along the Waterways of France,”

prepared me for my next surprise: Upon arriving in Valence de Agen, I

discovered that my towpath to Moissac followed the famous camino, a

pilgrimage route that leads to Apostle St. James’ tomb in Santiago de

Compostella, Spain.

I learned about this after a tedious day of pushing my bike

through farmers’ unplowed fields in the boiling sun. (My guidebook

described the towpath from Bon Encontre as marginal. It should have

read “non-existent”.) To revive my spirits, I stopped in a Chinese

restaurant and ordered some crunchy egg rolls. At the adjacent table

a friendly, retired couple began talking to me about the camino.

“Every summer streams of pilgrims pass in front of our house,” they

said. “If we think they are too late to reach the next refuge, we

invite them in. You’ll probably meet some pilgrims on your way to

Moissac.”

This was great news. I had always wanted to know more about the

camino and had read several books about it, including Shirley

MacClaine’s “The Camino, A Journey of the Spirit.” Also, once in a

campground in Switzerland, I met a Spanish couple who suggested that

I ride the trail by bike. When they returned to Spain, they sent me a

map and a guidebook in Spanish. It said I could make the pilgrimage

by foot, bike, horse, car or even with a donkey!

The camino begins in four different cities in France, one being

Paris. (Just the place for one final “fling” before austerity sets

in, right?) Before starting the pilgrimage, you must register in the

headquarters.

Here you receive an official card that allows you to have food and

lodging in the camino’s shelters (refugios). The card also must be

stamped as you go along. If you survive the packs of wild dogs, poor

food and extreme heat -- as well as blistered feet -- it will take

you about three months to arrive at the end in Santiago de

Compostella.

Just as the people predicted, the next day along the canal began

meeting pilgrims. The first ones were three men and three women, in

their mid-50s and 60s, who reminded me of a group of elves with their

smiling faces, short statures, brown attire and comical hats. They

told me that for three weeks each year, they walk a different part of

the camino.

Later, on the towpath I met a young man on a heavily loaded bike

like mine. He, too, was making the pilgrimage to Spain, which was

sponsored by his church in Australia. Though he liked following the

camino, he was worried about crossing over the Pyrenees Mountains. I

could easily understand his concern.

That afternoon after arriving in Moissac, I sat down on the shaded

steps of the cathedral to cool off and rest from my long trip.

Shortly, a pretty lady in her 50s plopped her backpack beside me. She

was a pilgrim, too.

“I’m only going along to accompany my husband,” she said. “But we

don’t stay in refugios. With our cell phone we call ahead for

reservations in hotels and inns.”

A smart idea, I thought.

When I recuperated, I visited the cloister of the 11th-century St.

Pierre Abbey. It was truly exquisite, with an inner patio and garden

surrounded by pointed, Gothic arches, supported by two rows of

slender columns, their tops decorated with intricate carvings. As the

sun cast circles of warm light through the white marble pillars, a

sense of deep peace and tranquility permeated the air. Its beauty was

unforgettable.

Afterward, I dropped in at the pilgrimage office to inquire about

spending the night in the refugio. A serious-looking young man behind

the desk informed me that only pilgrims were allowed to stay there.

For a moment, I considered buying an official pilgrim card for 50

francs ($10) and telling him I was starting my pilgrimage in Moissac.

But to lie about religious matters, I feared, might evoke undesirable

consequences, so I decided to stay in a campground.

Before leaving, I dined in an open restaurant facing the

cathedral’s impressive stone-carved portal. A man sitting next to me

was reading a newspaper.

“Excuse me,” I asked, “Do you know who won the Tour de France

today?”

“The American, Lance Armstrong,” he replied, “and he’ll be racing

in Castelsarrain on Wednesday.”

“Really,” I exclaimed, remembering that this town was on my way.

If I changed my plans (I like to travel loose) and stayed there one

night, I could see him.

What luck, I thought! My long cherished dream to see Lance and the

Tour de France was about to come true. Was this happening because I

was on the camino? I like to think so.

Next Episode: Seeing the Tour de France.

* MARTHA MARINO is a Laguna Beach resident and author of “Asian

Adventure.” This is the second in a series of stories from Marino’s

recent bike tour.