Day 21.
A Gothic Cathedral, a Grueling Hip, and a Caravan in the Rain
Castet-Arrouy to Marsolan
September 3, 2024 | 15.42 miles / 24.82 km
Gîte: Caravan (€10 B&B) ♥
The Day Began with Laughter
We left Castet-Arrouy under rainy skies and full bellies after a lively breakfast with Phoebe, Johnny, and Patrick. Spirits were high. Even the rain couldn’t dampen them. Before setting off, we took a few pictures with Les Pèlerins, the wooden sculptures that greet and bid pilgrims farewell. The village was still asleep as we headed out, the streets quiet, the air damp and cool.
The trail started gently, winding past fields damp from the night’s rain. As strange as this may sound, I loved the quiet squish of my boots on the muddy track, the rhythm of it was calming despite the drizzle. The farmland opened up around us. Wide green fields dotted with hay bales and framed by distant tree lines. It was peaceful, almost meditative.
A Cathedral and a Café Full of Pilgrims
Eventually, the rooftops of Lectoure appeared, perched gracefully on a ridge. The town—designated a “Town of Art and History”, was everything I’d hoped for. We stopped first at a bakery near the entrance for some dangerously good pastries, then headed to Cathédrale Saint-Gervais-Saint-Protais, a Gothic landmark dating back to 1488 that towers over the town with grace and gravitas.
We also visited Fontaine Diane, a spring adorned with 13th-century arcades and wrapped in legend, offering a glimpse into Lectoure’s ancient past. The whole town feels soaked in history. With Lectoure being part of the Armagnac region, it was tempting to dive into some tastings, but unfortunately, most places had closed for lunch.
Pain and a Caravan Off Trail
By midday, my hip pain had flared up again. I found myself pulling back from conversation, needing rest but not finding it. Rain started to fall, and soon every pilgrim in town seemed to have gathered at the same café for shelter. It was loud, crowded, and overwhelming.
We began looking for a place to sleep, but every option seemed too expensive or unavailable. Phoebe mentioned a caravan she’d found. A bit off trail, inexpensive, and “in the middle of nowhere.” I hesitated. My imagination took me to every possible horror-movie scenario. But I trusted her, and eventually we all agreed to meet there later.
When the rain let up, we left the café, grabbed some local cheeses from La Fromagerie. Jean, our resident cheese connoisseur, was in heaven. We picked up some fruit, and of course, a small bottle of Armagnac, the region’s iconic brandy from a nearby store
As we left Lectoure, we walked through Le Château des Comtes d’Armagnac, the former residence of the powerful Counts of Armagnac. Though much of the castle has been repurposed, its weighty presence still lingers, especially knowing the dark history it holds. The town left an impression on me. Pain aside, it was an unforgettable visit.
A Long Road to Marsolan
We rejoined the GR65 and headed toward Marsolan. The path narrowed and grew more wooded. There was a hush over everything. Trees dripping with rain, boots sinking into soft earth. The village appeared slowly, perched on a gentle rise. Stone houses. A 12th-century church. Timeless, still, lovely.
Not Quite Glamping
Finding the caravan took a bit of effort, but eventually we spotted it parked behind a house. Phoebe wasn’t far behind us. For €10, we couldn’t expect much, but this was definitely “no frills.” The wiring was questionable. The heater was barely a whisper. And the bathroom and shower were inside the main house, a short but soggy walk away.
It started raining again just before we arrived. I took a shower but skipped the laundry. Nothing was drying in this weather anyway. We’d brought our own food, so we sat in the tiny caravan, eating and laughing, especially at Phoebe’s stories. She’s hilarious.
Uncomfortable, Yes. But Also Enough.
Despite the rain, the pain, and the less-than-cozy setup, there was something memorable about tonight. Maybe it’s the absurdity of the day. Maybe it’s how shared discomfort creates deeper connection. Or maybe it’s just Phoebe’s sense of humor. Whatever it is, I’ll remember this one.
🥾 Pilgrim Tip:
Don’t let appearances fool you. Sometimes the oddest accommodations make for the richest memories. And always pack your sense of humor. It weighs nothing but carries you far.
Day 22.
Mudness, Medieval Towers & A Caravan Among Fruit Trees
Marsolan to Montréal-du-Gers
September 4, 2024 | 10.74 miles / 17.28 km Walking |
25.48 miles / 41.01 km Total (with Car Ride)
Gîte: Le Couloumé Gîte d’Étape (€18 Bed) ♥
Rushed Start, Rainy Morning
The morning began in a rush; my least favorite way to start a day. Breakfast was quick, and we fumbled around trying to lock the doors of the main house, which delayed us more than expected. Phoebe had already left. The rain was steady as we finally stepped out, Marsolan still wrapped in quiet. There’s something oddly soothing about walking in the rain; the sound of it, the softness it brings to the world.
But almost immediately, I could feel the throb in my hip. I knew there was no way I could walk the full distance today. We started making calls to local transport options and luckily found someone who could pick us up in La Romieu, if we made it by 1 PM. Between the pain, the rain, and the trail conditions, that was going to be a challenge.
Mud, Missteps & Pears
The trail was thick with mud; sticky, heavy, boot-clinging mud. Twice we lost our way, and frustration began to creep in. We didn’t have time to spare. At one point, we came across a pear tree bursting with ripe fruit. It was such a simple, sweet moment but we didn’t linger. There was no time.
This wasn’t just mud. This was mudness. My boots felt like they weighed five extra pounds. The ground was slippery and treacherous, and for the first time, I genuinely wished I had walking poles. Every step was a struggle. But somehow, we made it. We reached La Romieu by noon.
Mud, Missteps & Pears
The trail was thick with mud. Sticky, heavy, boot-clinging mud. Twice we lost our way, and frustration began to creep in. We didn’t have time to spare. At one point, we came across a pear tree bursting with ripe fruit. It was such a simple, sweet moment but we didn’t linger. There was no time.
This wasn’t just mud. This was mudness 😛 My boots felt like they weighed five extra pounds. The ground was slippery and treacherous, and for the first time, I genuinely wished I had walking poles. Every step was a struggle. But somehow, we made it. We reached La Romieu by noon.
La Romieu: Cats, Cloisters, and Climbing Towers
Once in La Romieu, we stopped at the Office of Tourism to stamp our credentials, then left our bags to visit La Collégiale Saint-Pierre, an extraordinary medieval complex with a stunning 14th-century cloister and a tower offering panoramic views over the countryside. The climb was steep but completely worth it. The architecture was mesmerizing; grand, detailed, and standing strong after centuries.
La Romieu is also famous for its cat statues, scattered throughout the village, paying tribute to the legend of Angeline, a girl who saved the town’s cats during a famine. It added a touch of whimsy to the day.
We lingered longer than planned; sipping tea in the square, chatting with other pilgrims. Some were staying in La Romieu, others pushing on. Our “bus driver” arrived right on time, and I’ll admit, it felt strange to be in a car after walking for 22 days straight. But the relief was real.
Caravan Among the Fruit Trees
We arrived in Montréal-du-Gers, another charming hilltop village with medieval flair. First stop: the pharmacy, where I picked up more numbing cream for my hip. Then it was off to a local shop for groceries and sightseeing, of course, even in the on-and-off showers.
Our accommodation was about 850 meters off trail: another caravan, but this one was nothing like the last. Spacious, well-organized, and tucked into a peaceful orchard with apple, pear, and plum trees. After showers and laundry, we strolled through the grounds, picking fresh fruit. It felt like the Camino had shifted back into harmony.
Evening Calm
Dinner was quiet and nourishing. We listened to classical music, talked for hours, and later, stepped outside to watch the stars. They were bright and brilliant-so many of them. The night sky felt like a gift after such a muddy, messy, beautiful day.
🥾 Pilgrim Tip:
Sometimes, you have to surrender to the mess. The Camino doesn’t care about your plans. But if you keep going through the mud, the pain, the detours, you might just end your day under a tree full of fruit, watching stars with a full belly and a grateful heart.
Day 23.
Vineyards, Roman Echoes & Farewell to a Camino Friend
Montréal-du-Gers to Eauze
September 5, 2024 | 13.96 miles / 22.47 km
Gîte: Gîte – Chambres en Chemin Eauze (€30 B&D) ♥
The Last Day Together
Today marked Jean’s last day on the Camino, and with that came a quiet sense of finality. We had breakfast made from last night’s leftovers. Simple, filling, and shared like most of our meals on this journey. The caravan felt strangely cozy as we packed up for the last time together. We left just after 8:00 AM under a drizzle that faded within half an hour, giving way to bits of sun and soft skies.
Through the Heart of Armagnac Country
We spent the first stretch walking along asphalt roads before hitting a gravel trail that led us gently downhill. This section of the Gers is pure Armagnac country. The landscape opened up into rows upon rows of grapevines, lush and heavy with fruit, alongside orchards bursting with apples, pears, and plums. The air had that earthy-sweet smell of harvest, and the soil itself seemed to hum with ripeness.
We were incredibly lucky to run into two grape farmers working their fields, and they graciously explained how their grape harvesting machine works. It was a fascinating little Camino detour; watching those rubber rods shake the vines and grapes fall onto conveyor belts. They showed us how the grapes move straight into a truck and off to the winery. We couldn’t help but pause and soak it all in. It felt like we were walking through the rhythm of the land.
A Rest in Lamonthe
Eventually, we reached Lamonthe, a tiny hamlet with a 13th-century guard tower. One of those hidden medieval relics that make you stop and imagine the stories these trails could tell. We stumbled upon a small café just off the trail, and it turned out to be one of the best trail meals I’ve had so far: prosciutto, cheese, pickles, and tomato sandwich, and an egg, with a hot cup of coffee. Simple. Perfect. Exactly what my body needed.
Arriving in Eauze: The Roman Elusa
From Lamonthe, it was a steady uphill walk into Eauze, and as we entered the town square-Place d’Armagnac. I felt like I was arriving somewhere special. Eauze is larger and livelier than most towns on this stretch of the Camino. And old, very old. This was once the Roman city of Elusa, and its history is carved into the stones beneath your feet.
We visited the Cathédrale Saint-Luperc, a 15th-century cathedral named after a local Christian martyr. The stained glass was lovely, and the atmosphere inside was still and gentle. Eauze has been welcoming pilgrims for centuries, and it felt humbling to be one of them.
Missed Treasure, Gained Stories
I had hoped to visit the Musée d’Archéologie Le Trésor d’Eauze, which houses a Roman treasure trove discovered in 1985. Over 28,000 coins and pieces of jewelry, thought to have been buried during the third century. Unfortunately, the museum was closed when I got there, but Jean visited and later shared all the details. I lived it through his storytelling.
We wrapped up our town visit with a stop at the Office of Tourism to get our credentials stamped and to find out about Jean’s bus. The gîte was just a short 500-meter walk from the center, and just as we arrived, Patrick showed up! It was such a happy reunion.
Laundry, Laughter & Goodbyes
After showers and laundry (I’ll be walking with wet clothes tomorrow-again), we had dinner at the gîte. Honestly? The food was awful. But the conversation at the table more than made up for it. Pilgrims from different walks of life, all gathered together, sharing stories, laughs, and bread.
We stayed up later than usual. Maybe because none of us wanted the day to end. Maybe because goodbyes, even quiet ones, always linger.
🥾 Pilgrim Note:
Not every day on the Camino is about grand cathedrals or breathtaking views. Sometimes, it’s about a perfect sandwich in a forgotten hamlet, a spontaneous vineyard lesson, or one last shared laugh with a walking companion who carried your stories as much as you carried your pack.
Day 24.
Solitude, Surprises & a Small Theft
Eauze to Lanne-Soubiran
September 6, 2024 | 18.75 miles / 30.18 km
Gîte: (€25 B&D) ♥
Parting Ways
I was up very early today, hoping for a head start, but life (and a call with my sister) had other plans. After our chat, I said a heartfelt goodbye to Jean. He’s heading home, and I’m continuing on. We hugged, wished each other well, and then I was off. 500 meters back to the GR65 and into the quiet morning.
It was cold and softly raining when I left Eauze. The town still felt half-asleep, and the sky glowed with a blush of red at sunrise. I paused to take it in. There’s something about sunrises on the Camino. They feel like promises whispered from the earth to the sky.
Quiet Miles & a Wandering Mind
The trail quickly pulled me back into the countryside, where rows of corn and grapevines rolled on endlessly. The terrain was kind. Just gentle ups and downs, perfect for letting thoughts rise and pass like clouds. I walked mostly alone today, and I didn’t mind at all. I love these solitary stretches. There’s clarity in silence, especially when you’re moving forward one quiet step at a time.
I passed a few other pilgrims here and there. A quick “bon chemin,” a smile, and on we all went, like driftwood carried by the same stream.
The Camino Hush in Nogaro
Eventually, I reached Nogaro, and what a surprise it was. It’s a modest town but full of character. I visited the Église Saint-Nicolas, a Romanesque-style church with centuries of pilgrim footprints worn into its stones. The inside had that Camino hush. A deep, echoing stillness that holds your heart for a while. I said a quiet prayer for everyone who’s helped carry me this far.
What I didn’t expect was Circuit Paul Armagnac. A race track just outside town! I didn’t see any cars speeding by, but the occasional engine hum reminded me it was there. The idea of racing Ferraris just beyond the grapevines was almost surreal.
Into Stillness: Lanne-Soubiran
The path to Lanne-Soubiran was gentle and calming. As I arrived, the world slowed down. It’s not really a town; more a sleepy cluster of homes and fields. There’s a small church, a fountain, and some benches under the trees. Not much to do here, and maybe that’s exactly the point.
I reached the gîte just after 3:40 PM. It was simple, warm, and welcoming. Claudine, the host, a jovial Black French woman, greeted me with the brightest smile and walked me through everything with the help of Google Translate. I felt instantly at home.
It was a full house tonight, and I was relieved to find some fellow pilgrims who spoke English. We shared a hearty dinner; soup, bread, and local wine, and stories flowed easily. These shared tables have become some of the most sacred parts of my journey.
An Unwelcome Surprise
But just when I thought the day had wrapped itself up in contentment, something strange happened. While I was journaling and stepped away to use the bathroom, someone stole €20 from my bed. I saw her! Dashing away from my bed. I was stunned. Nothing like this has ever happened to me on the Camino. It was a small theft, but the violation felt big. It was a sharp reminder that even in sacred spaces, we’re still human. Still flawed. Still vulnerable.
🥾 Pilgrim Note:
The Camino mirrors life. It gives us red skies at dawn, vineyards that stretch for miles, churches that hush your spirit, and people who lift your soul. But it also gives us shadows; moments that jar us awake. Today, I walked far. I laughed. I prayed. I lost €20. Still, I am grateful. The road continues.
Day 25.
Rain, Relief & the Rhythm of Peace
Lanne-Soubiran to Aire-sur-l’Adour
September 7, 2024 | 13.95 miles / 22.45 km
Gîte: La Maison des Pèlerins (€24 B&B) ♥
An Early Start and a Heavy Heart
I woke at 3:55 AM, restless and wide awake. I couldn’t go back to sleep and, truthfully, couldn’t wait to leave. There was a heaviness from last night that I just needed to walk off. I quietly got ready, tiptoed to the bathroom, then made my way down to the dining room to journal and wait for breakfast.
Two things kept me from leaving immediately: one, I had ordered breakfast for 6:30 AM; two, it was raining hard outside. When Claudine came down, I explained what happened with the stolen €20. She apologized warmly, packed up my breakfast. Yogurt, fruit cup, oatmeal, and bread, and handed it to me with quiet understanding. I appreciated her kindness. I just didn’t want to share a table with she who had taken something from me.
I left Lanne-Soubiran at 6:45 AM, just as the sky began breaking open with streaks of daylight. A new day was trying to make itself known. I stopped briefly at Église Saint-Pierre-et-Saint-Paul and said a prayer. Partly for she who took my money, mostly for myself, to let go. Then I stepped out of the village, the only sound accompanying me was my own footsteps on the wet road.
A Walk into Solitude
The morning was peaceful and slow, with farms still wrapped in sleep. The trail wound through miles of cornfields and vineyards, a long, meditative stretch mostly on asphalt. I didn’t see many cars. The Camino was mine for a while.
Along the way, I ran into a few familiar pilgrims from earlier stages. We chatted briefly, smiling at the coincidence of finding each other again, before our natural paces carried us in different directions. That’s one of the gifts of the Camino-companionship when you need it, solitude when you don’t even realize you need it.
Mid-morning, I paused in Lelin-Lapujolle for a simple breakfast. As the day warmed, the trail began to gently descend. Fewer vineyards, more forest, and then, as if by surprise, the rooftops of Aire-sur-l’Adour came into view; nestled near the curve of the Adour River.
A Town that Holds You Gently
Aire-sur-l’Adour is larger and lovelier than I expected. Bustling square, charming cafés, and a palpable sense of history lived-in and alive. I went straight to the Office of Tourism, where a kind woman helped me arrange a bus pickup for tomorrow at 9:00 AM. My hip and my toe, especially the one beside the big toe on my left foot, have been protesting hard. I need to listen. Hopefully, this short break will offer some healing.
After sorting out logistics and visiting the ATM, I walked to the gîte. I arrived early, but Isabelle and Alejandro welcomed me in with the kind of warmth that softens your heart. I showered, did laundry, then made my way to Église Sainte-Quitterie, just outside the town center. I fell instantly in love with it.
The church, named for Saint Quitterie, a 5th-century martyr beheaded on this very site, is a place of light and peace. I explored the crypt; calm and ancient, and was awed by its sense of sacred history. This isn’t just a church. It’s a thread in the fabric of Camino pilgrimage. A UNESCO treasure, quietly waiting to be seen.
Later, I sat by the Adour River, watching it shimmer in the afternoon light. This town isn’t flashy. It doesn’t try to be. And that’s its magic. It’s a place that lets you pause, breathe, and remember why you started walking in the first place.
Scripture Reflection – Isaiah 55:12
“You will go out in joy and be led forth in peace;
the mountains and hills will burst into song before you,
and all the trees of the field will clap their hands.”
— Isaiah 55:12
This verse found me today, right when I needed it most. After the heaviness of last night, after the ache in my hip, after all the solitary miles, I arrived here, led forth in peace. The rain cleared. The river glittered. The crypt whispered. And I felt it: joy, not because everything was perfect, but because I am still walking, still arriving, still open.
This journey isn’t just about the walking. It’s about arriving. Physically, emotionally, spiritually and recognizing the sacred in the small. A moment by the river. A warm welcome. A quiet crypt. A red sunrise. This is how the trees clap their hands.
Full Circle
As if to round out the day, I ran into Patrick-with his wife! His Camino ends here. We chatted for a while, caught up on our days, and then went our separate ways. When I got back to the gîte, it was full of familiar faces. We shared a few laughs, and then I slipped off to bed, my body tired but my spirit calm.
What a beautiful day it was.
🥾 Pilgrim Tip:
When something-or someone-shakes your peace on the Camino, take it to the trail. Let the walking, the landscape, and the rhythm of your steps help you process and release. Healing often begins with movement.
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