Day 13. June 18, 2014. Mirepoix to Pamiers 30 kms.

Climb every mountain, ford every stream

I woke up to the news that the Canadian government has approved a controversial pipeline to take the bitumen from the Alberta tar sands to the west coast, against the wishes of many of the First Nations along the way and two-thirds of British Columbians whose pristine northern coastal waters the tankers must navigate to collect the oil.

I suspect that the Prime Minister has been given a hint that President Obama is not going to approve another controversial pipeline which would take the bitumen down to the Texas refineries, Alberta is desperate to export its resource. This will be a divisive issue for years to come. Canadians will have to choose between the economic benefits of the tar sands and a cleaner planet without them.

I was dropped off at the post office, where I had been picked up the night before. As I started walking, I ran into Catherine, so we set out together. We followed a little short cut suggested by M. Lepere and ended up at the back of a farm, and had to scramble to get back to the GR. After walking along the main road for a couple of kilometres, we turned off on a track which headed up the hill.

It was a brutal climb. On and on, up and up, straight over the top of the hill, and then down into the village of Manses. It rained last night, and I was glad of my Zambs where the water was across the track. And then the same again. Another brutal climb. Up and over a hill and down into the village of Teilhet. In the picture of the village, you will see the characteristic clochers mur of the church, typical of the area. The bells are not hung in a tower, but in a wall at the front of the church. Cheaper than building a tower.

But the church at Vals, the next village, is quite unique and very famous. Built both in the rock and on the rock, it exists on three levels. The pre-Romanesque crypt perhaps preempted an earlier pagan site. It looks up to, and the nave looks down upon, the altar, and there is a gallery as well above the nave. The church just seems to rise out of the rock.

We sat on the steps in front of the church and ate our lunch.

And then we took a short cut suggested by the woman who organized our lodging in Mirepoix. Cutting off a huge and hilly loop in the GR, we saved five or six kilometres by walking directly to Saint-Amadou. There I left Catherine to make her way to her gite. 

I pressed on, taking another short cut along the road and adding only one kilometre. Finally, I arrived at the town of Pamiers, where I ordered a beer at the Cafe des Halles on the Place de la Republic. No Leffe, but a "Greem". I waited for my old camerade du chemin, Patrick, who was taking me back to his place for the night.