 |
| The trail along the Lot River passes along an old path that was carved through the cliffs. Before the invention of motors, boats needed to be pulled up the Lot River using tethered donkeys. This backward "C" tunnel was built to allow donkeys and people safe passage along the River Lot. |
Today is the last stage along the Valley of the Célé. It is approximately 12.5 km (8.2 mi) back to Tour-de-Faure, where Céline's car is parked. The highest point along the stage is above the village of Cabrerets, where the trail reaches a maximum height of 335 m (1,100 ft). In Bouziès, the trail return to the River Lot. The trail passes below Saint-Cirq-LaPopie along the River Lot.
The weather today is perfect for walking this morning. I find myself along the Lot River in what seems like a blink of an eye. After already walking 5 km (3.5 mi) this morning, it feels great to find myself walking along this big river. Even though I am enjoying this stretch tremendously, approximately 1.5 km (1 mi) is located along Highway D662. The road is much busier than I would like this morning. Fortunately, there's a wide shoulder.
I always find the return to civilization harsh. For the past 5 days, I have seen and heard very few cars. Suddenly this morning, I find myself walking along highways and busy streets. The cacophony of noises and speed of motor vehicles always takes a moment to adjust to. When I am away from it, my world moves much more slowly in the tranquility of nature.
My conversations with Céline are usually in French, even though she speaks four languages, including English. Sometimes when I can't find a word, I say words I think are correct. Céline usually responds with, "That's cute! But that's not a word." Then I explain what I am trying to say, and she helps me find the word in French, or sometimes we move on without finding the "right" word. Occasionally, I say to her that that word doesn't resonate with me. I remember using a different word in Canada, but I can't recall what it is. Other times, when I remember the Canadian word, we discuss it. Céline will say to me, "I understand. The word we use here is ____." Other times she says, "I like that expression and will start using it." I love her approach. It feels delicate and intentional to me. I feel supported and accepted at the same time. With this delicate approach, I can expand my vocabulary and understand how people use the language locally. Plus, because I avoid using English as a crutch, I feel that my ability to speak French has progressed more quickly.
French in France and Canada is different, and they frequently use different words. The language has evolved differently in both countries and more slowly in Canada. French in Canada resembles the French from France in the 1600s when Canada was colonized. It is noticeably different than the modern-day evolved version of French that is spoken in France. This is common in areas that were occupied by other countries. I remember discussing the parallels for Turkish with an old charming Albanian man in Prizren one funny evening.
I passed several metal sculptures along the River Lot next to the trail this morning. My favorite is this abstract mastodon.
There are other times when I help Céline with her English. Be careful, I say as I point to a giant red slug on the trail. "Une limace," says Céline. It's a slug in English. You can also modify the word and say I am feeling sluggish. This means you are feeling lazy, or things are moving slowly for you," I say. She repeats the word and says, "I love this word, sluggish. I also like how it makes me feel and the image it evokes." I pause for a moment and reflect on what Céline just said. Then I realize this is why I choose my words carefully when communicating with people. If a word doesn't resonate with how I am feeling at the moment, I decide not to use it and use another instead.
As I enter the backward "C" tunnel along the River Lot, I notice an older woman in front of me. I took this photo for perspective.
Further down the tunnel, this back wall has been carved by an artist. I have no idea who the artist is or when it was carved. I stop and run my hand along the granite wall to feel the different textures. The differences are subtle in some places, and the surfaces vary from ultra-smooth to coarse.
Although the end is near, and only a few kilometers remain, the views are spectacular. The River Lot passes against the cliffs in the distance.
I've passed many red poppies along the trail, but never in this quantity. I love how they are scattered amongst the massive field of greens.
As the trail passes below the cliffs of Saint-Cirq-Lapoppie, I look up the path that splits off to the village. Then I say, I don't think we have time to climb up to the village, right? If we want to make it to the market in Cahors before 2 pm. She looks at her phone, "It's already after 12 pm. Let's keep walking. It's almost an hour to Cahors from Tour-de-Faure," she says. I nod and continue on.
The last two kilometers (1.2 mi) are easy. The path is flat and mainly in the shade. I can feel the sun warming up as I cross the bridge over the River Lot.
Although it feels bittersweet to already be at the end of this journey, I enjoyed every moment. This was precisely what I wanted, and it felt great to walk these shorter stages. Even though I could keep walking for another week, I feel this is the end of the road for now. In a few days, I'll be heading north to the Netherlands. I reach into my pocket, pull out my phone and take a rare selfie as I enter Tour-de-Faure.
When I get to the car, I shed my pack and wait a few minutes for Céline to rejoin me. We made it! I say as I give her a high five. Thank you for setting this up. This was a great way to share time together. It felt great! She smiles and says, "I enjoyed it too. Thank you for filling up my bucket these last few days." Then I remove my shoes and socks, put on my flip-flops, grab a fresh T-shirt and water bottle, then turn to Céline and say, Are you ready? I am looking forward to the market in Cahors...
Comments
Post a Comment