Via Lemovicensis: Of Mud and Mountains

After a breakfast graciously provided by fellow pilgrim Christophe, Herve and I finally set off just after 8 AM. 

A word about Christophe is probably in order. We met him at the church yesterday, after he had walked 43 km that day. He began his Camino in Brittany, and in a roundabout course has traversed parts of three of the four major Camino routes through France. He expects to walk 3000 km in three months.

And he bought us all breakfast.

The air was cool and the sky was overcast when we left. The forecast called for rain in the afternoon, but for the first time in I don’t know how many days, I didn’t begin with my poncho on.

A year ago, Francine’s functional vocabulary had been reduced to “OK” and “oh gosh”. And yet, when our parish choirs came to sing to her, she sang along to some of the songs, or at least mouthed the words.

We were both so grateful for that visit. Francine teared up near the end, and I think she sensed it might be the last time she would sing with the choir.

I was and remain grateful for all of our visitors in those dark days. They really made Francine’s days full of joy and fun, and occasionally laughter. They were our lifeline. I have nothing but gratitude for everyone who stopped by, even if it was only for a moment. It really did make all the difference in the world.

On the way through town we crossed over Pont Vieux, which is sort of a miniature version of the one I crossed out of Cahors in 2023.

About 8:20 we passed a church that looked like it had been a fortification at one point. Sadly, it was a locked up tight.

Even within the bounds of the city, we passed the first open meadow just near a cemetery at about 8:30. Expansion room?

Just five minutes later, we turned off the main road and were walking through the trees on a narrow asphalt road. Soon enough, we were walking in the semi-rural countryside, a mixture of small farm plots and suburban houses.

At 8:45, from the top of a hill, at last we could see the Pyrenees in the distance. There’s snow up there!

It really was a thrilling moment to see the mountains for the first time. We should’ve been able to see them days ago, of course, but the weather largely prevented that.

It makes the coming end of my days in France all that more real.

The fleece came off shortly thereafter. Today, they say that we only have a net gain of 20 m in altitude. Of course, this is 600 m up and 580 m down.

At 8:50, the road ended and we were walking on a muddy dirt and grass trail/road through the woods.

About ten minutes later, it was back to the asphalt at a no-name hamlet. 

At about 9:10, we roadwalked into the village of Sainte-Suzanne. This quaint Basque village includes a small river, Le Laá, running through the middle. The little village church was sadly locked.

As we walked back out into the countryside, we would often pass clearings where we could get beautiful views of the mountains we were walking towards.

It seemed like as we crested every hill, a new beautiful vista opened before us: farms and fields, and little hamlets and villages scattered up the sides of the hills.

By 9:30, we had entered the little Basque farming village of Lanneplaà. This was one of those scattered places, flowing up and down and around the road and up the hillside.

The little village church was locked, with a note on the door saying the next Mass would be at 6 PM on Saturday, May 30.

We continued through the countryside, up and down hills, through farms and meadows with grazing sheep and cows. Little farmsteads or isolated cottages were common.

I’ve forgotten how much I love this region. It very much gives me a feel of Middle Earth.

By 10:15, we were walking through the forest again. Within five minutes, the road had turned once more from asphalt to dirt and gravel and then to grass as we left the woods. 

And here I was hoping to get through a day with dry shoes.

By 10:40, the Camino had rejoined an asphalt road at a rambling farmstead. The Pyrenees ahead of us suddenly seemed very close indeed.

At 11 AM, we had arrived at the village of L’Hôpital-d’Orion (in Béarnese L’Espitau-d’Orion or L’Espitau-d’Ourioun). The little 13th century church of Sainte-Marie-Madeleine  was originally a commandery of the Knights Hospitalar but much reduced after the 16th century Wars of Religion.

During the rebuilding, the missing vaulting in much of the church was replaced with wooden vaulting, which is an impressive feat of carpentry and quite beautiful.

We rested here a while and I prayed. In the absence of a café, we shared a Snickers bar in the narthex. While we sat there, Michael arrived and visited the church. 

Herve and I left at about 11:20, crossing the little bridge over the river Saleys into the main part of the village. Within just a few minutes, we were in the woods climbing up a dangerously slippery mud slope.

We had been warned about a dangerous muddy uphill section last night. Yesterday, our friend Pierre slipped and fell there.

It was a nerve-racking climb, and there were steps where I would slip backwards almost as much as I was walking forward. I could not imagine doing this in yesterday’s rain storms.

By the time we got to the asphalt road at the top, we were both exhausted. It was only 11:40.

We were on asphalt for about twenty minutes before the Camino once again diverted onto a muddy path through the woods. At least it wasn’t uphill this time.

The path eventually got drier and more grassy. It went past a small number of young fruit trees planted by the local pilgrim association. We availed ourselves of some tiny more-or-less ripe cherries before moving on.

The terrain continued to be hilly as we walked through alternating meadow and woods, a world of greens and gold. We could see white and red houses sparkling on the nearby hilltops.

Mud remained an ever-present danger, especially in the wooded areas. 

We crossed over a stream on an old stone bridge. After this came our second slippery uphill. It was nowhere near treacherous as the first, but it did go on quite a bit longer.

We finally emerged onto an asphalt road at about 12:35. At this point, we sat down on some rocks and took a short break. Michael passed us as we sat.

The little asphalt road through the countryside soon disintegrated into mostly gravel, and then to dirt and mud. 

Another slippery, treacherous, muddy uphill.

We reached an asphalt road at about 1:25. It was at this point that we remembered that Pierre’s fall actually happened in the section right before Sauveterre, so we hadn’t even gotten to the “dangerous” part yet.

After reviewing our options, we decided the safest course was probably to take the road the rest of the way.

At 1:35, we entered the village of Burgaronne (in Béarnese Bergarona or Bergaroune), though it would be ten minutes before we were actually in the village center. In the meantime, landscape continued to be hilly, mostly open meadows with a fair smattering of trees. Occasionally on one side or the other, the landscape would open up into a view of massive valleys.

There always seemed to be at least one house in in sight.

The village center was almost impossibly quaint, but sadly the little church was locked up.

The road continued through a long stretch of trees before returning to the open landscape. I don’t know that I’ve ever been happier to be roadwalking, considering the alternative.

At 2:15, Herve and I entered the village of Sauveterre-de-Béarn. This had been my original intended stop for today, but it proved impossible to secure lodging here, so we will walk 3 km past here to the small village of Osserain. 

But first, it was definitely time for a break. Fifteen minutes later, we squeaked under last call for a midday meal at the only bar in town. Herve’s charm definitely sealed the deal, as they were in the process of closing the kitchen when we arrived.

The French take their food and drink it very seriously, so it was 3:50 before we left. We spent a little time exploring the village. There was the most amazing overlook into the river valley below the village. Absolutely breathtaking.

Then we went to visit the 12th century church of Saint-André. When the Calvinists took over the area in 1569, they seized the church and destroyed most of the interior decoration. It was returned to Catholic worship more than a century later, and the church has been restored several times since.

The 19th-century paint work is absolutely breathtaking, and it accentuates the Gothic and Roman structures of the building. But most of all, the place is just beautiful. Achingly, stunningly beautiful.

When we visited the church, we immediately ran into Christophe. He and Herve took a little tour around, while I prayed and lit a candle for Francine.

As we were leaving the church, we ran into Michael, who was just arriving in the village.

And then it was time for Herve and I to find the Camino again. The route ran down by the river, so it was downhill to there. We finally rejoined the Camino route as we were leaving the main part of the town, right at about 4:15.

We crossed over the River Gave d’Oloron on a highway bridge and into a suburban neighbourhood called Villa Martha. There was a lot of traffic, and the pedestrian walkway on the bridge was a trifle narrow for my taste.

We finally passed the sign telling us we’d left town right about 4:25.

We more or less immediately walked into a suburban community called Guinarthe-Parenties. Now the road had an adequately wide, marked shoulder, at least for a while. 

At about 4:45, we crossed a bridge over the River Saison, again with a very narrow walkway. Fortunately, there was a break in the traffic as we crossed.

Shortly after this, we left the Camino route again. Our gîte was located a little off the route.

We arrived in the village of Osserain (Ozeraine) just a few minutes later, and soon found our gîte, the home of a formidable older lady who owned a restaurant in Paris for 30 years before retiring here.

She told us in no uncertain terms that while we may have been walking in Béarn for the past few days, once we crossed the river we were in Basque country.

I didn’t have the nerve to ask her which river, as we crossed several this afternoon.

The door was, as you might expect, amazingly tasty. I ate entirely too much. Or perhaps I finally ate enough to counter my calorie deficit. I have been losing weight at an alarming rate.

Date: 17 May 2026

Place: Osserain (Ozeraine)

Today started: Orthez (Ortès)  

Today’s Photos!