Chasing After Jess

Today, I was thankful we had taken a rest day as waking up in the comfy bed at the Mercure Hotel in Figeac felt like a luxury. My mum and I had different plans for the day: she would stay and enjoy Figeac, browsing the shops and trying to replace some lost clothes and her watch strap (a bit of an ongoing saga, lol). She also took on the task of planning our accommodation for the next few days, as we had nothing booked at that point and felt super dooper unorganised!

I set off early, catching the train to Rocamadour around 9am. It was approximately a 20-minute walk from the hotel to the train station in Figeac, and I paid about €5 for the train ticket online via Rome2Rio. The train ride itself was only about 30 minutes, but it was absolutely beautiful, going through the picturesque French countryside.

The logistics of it and how I ended up walking more than 30,000 steps on my rest day is because Rocamadour’s train station is about 4 kilometers from the town. Although the 8-kilometer round trip on foot felt like a breeze thanks to not having my backpack with me, which at this point with all the food I bought at the Carrefour, would weigh about the same as a tone of bricks.

The 40 minute walk along the main road felt a bit isolated as I was also alone and worried about the fast cars going past. At one point I considered hitchhiking, and a man even pulled over to offer me a ride, but I thought about it and at the risk of it being the last thing I ever did – I decided to continue my walk.

But the moment I began my descent into Rocamadour, all my complaints vanished and was replaced with me standing with my mouth wide open in awe of the views I was seeing in front of me!

Rocamadour is a stunning medieval town carved into the cliffs of the Alzou canyon. Its history dates back to the 12th century and it has long been a significant pilgrimage site. The town is named after Saint Amadour, whose body was reportedly discovered there. The sanctuary of Rocamadour is a revered site, with the Black Madonna statue in the Chapel of Our Lady being a focal point for pilgrims.

Honestly, I didn’t know much about Rocamadour, or any of this information before getting there – and maybe this is what added to my amazement when I saw the town for the first time as I walked in.

I was really only going because my friend Nicky said I had to because of how stunning it was. She was so excited to go and so I figured she clearly knew her stuff, being a travel agent – and I should take her advice! I had not done a single google search to see what the town looked like, I had no idea about any of the history, I had no idea what I was supposed to do once I arrived in Rocamadour – the only thing I did remember from talking to Nicky was something about watermills (which I never actually found while I was in Rocamadour lol).

Meanwhile, my mum discovered that all the shops in Figeac were closed on Sunday’s, which was a huge disappointment for her, especially after I told her Rocamadour was the opposite, buzzing with activity, with all shops open. The town has a distinct touristy vibe, filled with charming shops selling knickknacks and postcards. They also had beautiful clothing shops, but unfortunately I could only window shop as I knew I had no space or weight available to buy more clothes. Luckily for me though, there were two stores I would happily shop at! That being; the lollie store and the gelato store!

I also explored the beautiful old cathedral, were I got my special Rocamadour stamp, and I made my way up to the top of the hill, where there was another magnificent building and a panoramic view of the valley below. The stunning architectural sanctuaries and the atmosphere made every step to the top of that hill worthwhile.

I left Rocamadour around 1pm and caught the 2:10pm train back to Figeac. My phone battery was nearly dead from all the photos I had taken, so I met my mum at the train station who brought my portable charger with her, and we set off in search of food.

We found a little bakery that was open, where I had a pizza and a baguette. We actually ended up bumping into Monica at the bakery as she had just arrived in Figeac that day. After lunch, my mum headed back to the hotel while Monica and I went to the Carrefour I had discovered the previous day.

Here’s where I should have bought a lotto ticket. More than an hour later, after we had walked to the Carrefour, looked around and went to pay – I realised I was missing something very important – MY PHONE! I had left my tote bag, containing my phone and portable charger, hanging on a chair at the bakery.

It had been more than an hour at this point! Monica and I sprinted back, and I had accepted to myself that it would be gone. I had once left my handbag on the back of a chair at a cafe and walked 10m away to greet a friend and come back to see my bag was gone. That was in Australia, which I consider to be very unlikely place to get pickpocketed, let alone in a bigger town in France, for more than an hour, at a busy spot! To my luck and surprise, my bag, my charger and my phone were all still there.

The phone is easily replaceable, what isn’t replaceable is my photos. The problem with me is – I am a photo hoarder. I have a 500gB phone and it is full. I have 77000 photos in my phone and I can’t bring myself to delete. Sure there is plenty that could go, but I never have the time to sort through and decide what stays and what goes. Because I have 500gB of stuff on my phone, I can’t afford the price of the iCloud backup to store this in the cloud. This is something I really need to sort out, because I know it’s not a matter of “if” but “when” for something happening to my phone, whether that is it being stolen or just breaking in general.

Me and Monica then got celebratory sorbet, I got lemon sorbet which is my favourite! Something about Monica that makes me laugh is she refuses to throw away a bottle of wine. The night I met her in Espalion, she had bought a bottle of wine and not finished it, even though there was only a tiny bit left, she sealed the bottle and carried it the next day! Monica once again bought another bottle of wine that she wouldn’t finish, to only have to carry it the next day haha! She also forgot to buy a bag at carrefour, so during this whole incident she was running through Figeac with a bottle of wine and junk food on display so we laughed about everyone knowing what her guilty cravings were.

I went back to the hotel room and caught up with Mum again. Thankfully the shops being closed meant she was able to spend some valuable time booking our next steps.

Nicky (who either used to, or currently works as – a travel agent) and Monica had both heavily suggested to do the Cele Valley Variant. I was sold on it because of its apparent beauty, but Mum was on the fence due to reports of mud (which we wanted to avoid) and the fact that it was definitely hilly.

We ended up not having a choice, as there was no accomodation available on the GR65 in the next section, meaning we didn’t necessarily choose the Cele Valley Variant, but more so, the Cele Valley Variant chose us!

I tried to get a head start on packing the monstrosity of food I had acquired in Figeac and tried to have an early night. Unfortunately like I mentioned in yesterdays post, this didn’t happen as we had the window open most of the night and it was loud on the street below.

Also, after just falling asleep at midnight I was woken up at 2am by sharp stomach pains and nausea. Only 3 weeks earlier I had been violently unwell in Sierra Leone, West Africa after having acquired my first case of food poisoning since I was 9 years old! That was the worst few days of my life, and my stomach pain matched that feeling. I quickly took Ondansetron (anti nausea medication) and Paracetamol and thankfully fell back asleep within an hour. The good thing about me being a nurse, and mum being a doctor is that we both carry a ridiculous amount of ‘just incase’ medications and first aid equipment! I don’t know if there is a situation we aren’t prepared for!

Finally falling back asleep at 3am, I could have cried when my 7am alarm rung. Despite the rough night, the adventure in Rocamadour and the unexpected turns of the day made it memorable. The beauty of the small towns, navigating travel mishaps, making new friends and the small victories along the way, form part of why I love traveling and some of the best memories I have over the past few years in my travel adventures!

Jess