DAY THIRTYONE
PORT-SAINTE-FOY-ET-PONCHAT – SAINT-FERME
When I crossed the river Dordogne, I entered the area of Bordeaux. Very soon, I was
surrounded by seemingly endless rows of vineyards. There was not much else
growing. Every little flower I met on the way was joy for me.
Chicory
Small succulents
At one point, I could not find the shell sign and asked a construction worker about
the Way. He was an Englishman by the name of Kevin who lived and worked in
France. He offered to help me find the way again. It turned out that I was on the
right Way all along, but he gave me a ride for several Kilometers up a hill. I was very
thankful for that.
Kevin giving me a ride
Nevertheless, the day was a day of walking many, many miles on hard asphalt streets,
up and down hills with vineyard after vineyard. My legs were swollen and cramped
and the body was revolting – and I still had 180 miles to go. I decided to listen to the
body and stop my pilgrimage. The next day, in Reole, I would take a train to Paris
and go back to Vienna.
Miles of asphalt streets straight to the west
In the evening I arrived in the refuge of La-Ferme. Jean Paul, the hospitaliér, was
already expecting me.
I was the only pilgrim there. When I told him about the plan to stop my pilgrimage,
he convinced me to go on. The next day he would take me 20 miles westwards with
his car so I could walk in a more relaxed speed. The dinner he cooked was fabulous–
vegetable soup, potato gratin and yogurt with raspberry sauce.
Later on, I even got a tour of the former monastery by a native with the name of Jean
Claude. In French, he told me enthusiastically about the history of this place and
I could hardly understand him. But this really did not matter.
La-Ferme, former Benedictine Monastery, 12th century
The acoustics were fantastic in the church. Jean Claude asked me to sing a song
and I was surprised how my voice filled out the whole space.
Inside the church
Jean Paul in the refuge “Voie de Vezelay”
– Text and photos contributed by Garyo –