Automatic Translation

Wednesday, October 28, 2026

Italy to Santiago II Part 1: Via Domitia Day 30 Mane - Reillanne

Le Chemin est un alchimie du temps sur l'âme

(The Way is the alchemy of time on the soul)

- Jean-Christophe Rufin, Immortelle randonnée: Compostelle malgré moi (2013)





30 days on the road! 

There's a saying among walkers that it takes three days to get into your stride. That if you can get through the critical third day of walking, you'll be fine. But I find it takes me three weeks, not three days, to get used to life on the road. 

After three weeks my body finally thinks it's normal to walk all day, every day. To eat only bread and cheese for lunch; to sleep in a different bed every night. That's one reason I prefer longer walks: after all that effort getting into shape, getting used to walking, gaining momentum - I want to make use of it for a while!

Today is the 30th day since I set out from Vercelli, 550 kilometres away. The Alps are well and truly behind me, and today was an easier day of walking than I have had in a long time: no major changes in elevation, no cliffs, no sheepdogs. Well, only one! And one hunter. No serious challenges. The hills of Provence are gentle, the forests are tame, the villages are pretty and have no major highways or industrial districts to get across. 

Leaving Mane in the morning 



There are plenty of sights to see along the way. Less than a kilometre from Mane is the medieval priory of Salagon, now a museum of ethnography and botanical garden. Unfortunately it wouldn't be opening for another two hours, so I passed it by; an excellent reason to come back!

The next point of historical interest was a Romanesque bridge with three arches, the largest and oldest of which dates back to the 12th or 13th century; the bridge was repaired and extended in 1626, and is still in perfect condition. I passed over it and continued along a path among monumental oak trees. 












I passed by the Tour de Porchères, a medieval defensive tower dating back to the same time as the bridge and the priory. 




I was now approaching Saint-Michel-L'Observatoire, home to the Observatoire de Haute-Provence since 1936. There are two separate facilities, the observatory proper, which is normally open only to scientists, and a planetarium/observatory open to the general public for educational and entertainment purposes. I had heard all about it back in La Motte du Caire, as my hostess Marie had just spent a day there with her grandson Arthur. Located at an elevation of 600 metres, the observatory is supposed to be one of the best spots in Europe for star-gazing, as it is pretty dark all around it; there are no large towns creating light pollution. Another good reason to come back and investigate this area more closely! Today, I contented myself with looking around the village, its two churches and its many statues of Saint Michael the Archangel. 













Looking back at Saint-Michel-L'Observatoire

I abandoned the GR, which makes a long U-shaped bend, and walked two kilometres along a very small and quiet paved road to Lincel, where I stopped to eat my sandwich at a picnic table by the pétanque court next to the 12th-century church of Sainte-Marie-Madeleine. It was unseasonably hot in the sunshine, and even in short sleeves I had to move into the shade! 











From here it was another six kilometres to Reillanne, my destination for the day. It's not easy to find a Servas host who lives right on your route, when you're walking a pilgrimage path; but I found one in Reillanne, and the accommodation she offered me was perfect for the occasion! Pascaline lives in a newly renovated house in which she has refurbished the ground floor as a separate guest suite. She was busy upstairs all afternoon with preparations for a festival of the spoken arts coming up in two weeks' time, while I was busy downstairs researching possible accommodations for the next few nights. Not easy, as Provence is expensive, and many accommodations don't allow one-night stays; of those that do, some are full up, and others are closed to take holidays of their own, now that the busy summer season is over. Add to that the fact that I will be walking through some very rural areas, and at first I could only come up with wildly unbalanced stages: ten kilometres one day and thirty the next... but eventually I came up with a plan that allows for more evenly spaced overnight stays.

Relieved at this outcome, I went back upstairs to find Pascaline preparing a vegetable crumble for dinner. We sat chatting while it was baking in the oven, and all through dinner, and Pascaline congratulated me on my French: now that's a real compliment, coming from a retired speech therapist with a passion for storytelling and the spoken arts!













Mane - Reillanne 17.5 km

Tuesday, October 27, 2026

Italy to Santiago II Part 1: Via Domitia Day 29 Lurs - Mane

Quello che non ho non può servirmi 

(I cannot need what I do not have)

- Davide Tavino, OraMai (2026)

A lesson in simplicity. That's how the Camino might be defined. You carry only what you need to survive. You get up in the morning and walk. You stop walking when you're tired, and eat. And sleep. Repeat!

You spend your afternoons in the village you have reached. Nothing to do but look around, sit in the sun, maybe read a book, make a cup of tea, find something to eat.


The sun rises earlier now that the clocks have been put back: I left the gîte communal in Lurs at 7, when the two construction workers with whom I had shared the hostel had put on their bright orange coveralls and gone off to work. I descended into the valley on a footpath, crossed a bridge over a waterfall, and then followed quiet country roads among the famous lavender fields of Provence - not very colourful in October!

Looking back at Lurs






Former windmill


Lavender in October 



I felt particularly tired this morning, and walking seemed to take more effort than usual. I thought I might need some mineral supplements, or be ready to call it a day and go home - until I realised I had been walking uphill all morning, slowly but steadily, at a gradient so gradual it was invisible!

I passed an equestrian centre and followed a footpath through the garrigue towards Forcalquier. When the GR route took a zig-zag around a field, I abandoned it and followed the road into the town, passing between the tennis club and the soccer field then crossing a bridge into the centre of the town.


Forcalquier, from the Latin Furnus Calcarius,  so named for its lime kilns, was formerly the capital of Haute Provence and a seat of the Bishopric of Sisteron; the 13th-century parish church was co-cathedral of the diocese, along with the cathedral of Sisteron. It is the earliest example of Gothic architecture in the Pays d'Oc. 


The nearby Couvent des Cordeliers was built in 1236 as a Benedictine abbey, but is now used as an educational facility: the Université Européenne des Senteurs et des Saveurs, a private university specialising in the study of natural aroma compounds, cosmetics and flavourings. It contains a museum about aromatic and medicinal plants.




I bought a few provisions for a picnic on the town's main shopping street and climbed up to the citadel at the top of the town to enjoy the view while I ate. I could see Lurs, which I had left behind in the morning, and the plain I would be walking over in the future. 





Chapel and carillon at the top of the citadel



My destination for the day, Mane, was only another hour's walk away, so I messaged Juliette, my contact for my accommodation there. It turned out Juliette had not been expecting me until the next day - Sylvie had got the day wrong when she contacted her on my behalf - but, she said, no problem: the door to the Presbytère would be open, and I could let myself in; there was a sitting room and a washroom. She would drop by to see me later. 

So I made my way down from the citadel and walked along the roadside, and then a footpath beside it, to Mane: a pretty little village of 1400 souls which is a sort of miniature version of its larger neighbour, Forcalquier. Both towns are made up of concentric half-circles on different levels, winding their way up to a citadel at the top of the town. 








I wasn't sure exactly which house was the Presbytère, though I knew it was in the church square; there was a rummage sale in a disused chapel beside the church, so I went in there and asked the volunteer on duty. Then I let myself in and rested on the sofa for a bit. I wasn't sure whether I was going to be sleeping on the sofa, or whether there was more to the accommodation than that room: in Germany on the Via Romea Germanica, I did sleep on the sofa in church social centres a few times! (And even on the floor...) 

While waiting for Juliette, I sat in the sunshine on a bench by the church writing up this account, as there is practically no Internet signal inside the Presbytère, and it was also rather chilly in the ground-floor room in the old building! When Juliette came by at five, the mystery was cleared up: across the hall from the room with the sofas was a complete apartment, originally used by the parish priest. Simply furnished, but much better than sleeping on a dusty old sofa! 😅







Lurs - Mane 17 km