A Lycra Lament

Bonsoir,

before I begin this post proper, I feel an overwhelming need to raise the issue of Speedos. Now as I'm sure those of you that have been to France are aware, French men seem to have a per chant for the wearing of tight-fitting Lycra swimwear. Fair enough, you might think. Why interfere in a man's need to wear spandex while strolling around the pool-side? Under normal circumstances, I too would be tolerant of such poor taste and vanity-gone-badly-wrong. But I'm afraid recently, I have moved from the camp of neutral observer to outright critic. The reason? In many pools, if you are male, you are not allowed to enter UNLESS you are wearing these fashion disasters. Personally, if I was a life-guard I would make the wearing of these Lycra garments (that leave very little to the imagination) a reason NOT to allow a man near a swimming pool. The world is indeed upside down.

O.K. got that off my chest. We are now in a small town called Parentis-en-Born. This means we have walked about 850 kms. Très bien, non? To increase the challenge further, starting Saturday 11th August Greg and I made the pact to complete the rest of the pilgrimage without consuming any alcohol or caffeine and Greg is also forgoing his nicotine hits. For those of you that know me well, I'm sure you will appreciate the scale of this personal challenge but we are both determined to prove we are masters of our vices (and not their slaves) and that we truly get the most out of this pilgrimage by living as well as possible.

After much deliberation, I have decided to ask for sponsorship for this pilgrimage. Some of you will know that I have been involved with an inspirational poetry group for several years now and it is this group I would like to raise some funds. The group is called "Mental Fight Club" - and their purpose is aptly summarised on their website:

"Mental Fight Club has around 500 members, around half of whom have direct experience of mental illness either as sufferers or carers. Our aim is to hold creative events which explore some aspect of mental illness or well-being through any human discipline – the arts, science, philosophy, sport, religion".

Check their website if you'd like to know more:

http://uk.geocities.com/gabrielejenkinson@btinternet.com/home.html

I am good friends with Sarah Wheeler, the founder and leader of Mental Fight Club and can only assure you that any money raised will be very well spent. Any money given will be very gratefully received but if you were to sponsor me 1p per kilometre that would be the princely sum of £20! The easiest way to get money to this organisation is to write a cheque made out to:

"Mental Fight Club"

c/o 21 Douglas Buildings,
Marshalsea Rd.,
London,
SE1 1EJ.

Enough of the appeal already.

And so to thoughts de la Seth in no particular order:

- Yesterday, I identified a sign on the map that we weren't able to find on the map's key and therefore decode. The road hugging the west coast, that we planned to travel down, had red lines through it for about 20 kilometres. Being generally the more cautious of the two, I suggested to Greg that perhaps these lines meant we couldn't use this road. Greg assured me that it would be fine and creatively suggested that perhaps the lines suggested that it was an access route for the fire service. Easily persuaded (especially when Greg's interpretation stood to save us lots of extra walking if correct) I agreed to "suck-it-and-see". It was only when we happened upon a more detailed map (courtesy of the tourist office) that we realised that our "short-cut" was actually a road straight through the French Land Armies HQ. Interestingly they also test missiles here. The detour around this site has put about 35km on our journey which is frustrating but infinitely better than being hounded by the French Foreign Legion.

- We often walk at night. It's very cool and eerily beautiful. However, sometimes we walk along paths where the tress are close enough for large spiders to make webs. Having my head enveloped in a large web with the possibility of its owner being on my body helps keep me awake.

- More recently, we have taken to camping "Au Sauvage" (in the wild). This is to save money (campsites can be ridiculously expensive) and gives us the freedom to tailor our routes to our own needs. Only once have we been woken by the gendame (police) and he was driving a quod bike and very happy so that's good.

- We stayed in a church garden for two nights. At night, one of the monks led a punk rock band in a gig in front of the church. He even did a Neal Young number. I am impressed by any man that can make the wearing of a brown robe and sandals look cool. A truly funky monk.

- We met a woman called Katrina. She was from Germany. She worked in a book shop. She wore glasses. These details are only incidental as to why I'm mentioning this encounter. Katrina had an experience, that before hearing of it, I was convinced only occurred in people's bad dreams. Katrina was a nudist (she was wearing clothes when I met her - I'm not not that sort of pilgrim don't you know!) One afternoon, Katrina left all her clothes and valuables on the sand and went for a long (naked) swim. When she returned to the place she thought she had left her possessions, she could find nothing but sand. Without her glasses, Katrina could barely see and so stumbled for nearly an hour along the tourist-packed beach looking for her belongings. All her lotion had been washed off so Katrina was also getting progressively burnt. Eventually, a kind sole took pity on her plight and helped her locate her possessions. I think Katrina should reconsider the merits of nudism in a largely clothes orientated society.

- Security guards in campsites often have batons, mace and attack dogs. What ever happened to the "happy camper" ideal such that camping patrons might cause difficulty requiring their temporary blinding and possible beating/dog savaging to be subdued?

- The other day, while talking to Greg I found myself saying, "I prefer purple madness to gentle sadness". Could this be the start of my song-writing career? Or was this just a flash-in-the-pan one hit wonder?

- I needed to see a doctor a few days ago to have my back looked at. Unfortunately my alarm failed but yet I still got up in time (unusual for me). How? Well as we were sleeping in the church garden I was initially awoken by the peel of bells. But then I fell back to sleep again. 30 minutes later I was woken again by the sound of singing as part of mass. Yet again I managed to fall back to sleep. Finally a group of enthusiastic students held a heated discussion (in French) about the bible right next to my tent. And I was well and truly awake for the day. Indeed, he works in mysterious ways.

Tonight we plan to "camp wild" with the added excitement of knowing that it will be within the vicinity of the military barracks. This is adrenaline Pilgrimaging at it's finest... x

(I haven't been able to upload the latest photos yet and will let you know when I have updated them.)