Shrine to St Ricard

Ricard was sometimes criticised by doctors and road safety campaigners for contributing to the high levels of alcohol consumption in France. He remained unapologetic to the end. He once served a journalist from Le Monde with a large glass of Ricard. "Don't worry," he said. "The only people that I know who are dying off are the water drinkers."

An early morning visit to Carrefour to stock up on saucisse and ibuprofen and then onwards & northwards. It is cloudy, but the predicted rain has not materialised (yet).

I walk across a narrow bridge into Chambonas and the Ardeche. There are wonderful buildings and walls, made from flat, thin pieces of rock - not slate, but a similar style of stacked building.

Two notable things today. First, the bridges, solid, rustic, and unbelievably stolid - I cross several, each one preceded by an interminable descent and followed by an exhausting ascent. Second, the descent to Saint Mélany - kilometres of damp, slippery, leaf covered stone, with gorgeous views competing for my concentration.

And, of course, the rain comes eventually. I don my red Super-U poncho several times and, unsurprisingly, it works just fine. When the wind got stronger, I tied a rock into the front to stop it from blowing up in my face. The hood seems to work best when I keep the tension by pulling it behind my ears. I would be quite a sight - if anyone were there to see me.

I haul myself to the Gite d'Etape at Le Travers for a hot shower, a four course dinner, and a warm bed. I'm eating with three German ladies - we speak English. For entrée a salad of five different coloured tomatoes; the plat is veal with basil and lemon, green beans and rice; a cheese board with chèvre of 3 different ages and more; dessert is fig flan. All fruit and veg grown on the premises, all lovely. Also, plenty of wine - red and white. Strangely absent: aperitif & coffee.

I have a whole Gite to myself. I roll into bed and pass out comfortably. Tomorrow will be my last day of walking.