Today I play a home game. I spent eleven summer vacations in Coursavy, between 1993 and 2004, and I was still there regularly after that.
Coursavy is a hamlet on the River Lot, so small that this website cannot find it on the map. It is near the village of Grand-Vabre and the famous pilgrimage town of Conques, and 60 kilometers below the Massif Central. It’s not on our Route de Vezelay, but on the route that leads from Le Puy to Santiago. We drive 200 kilometers for it.
To get there we had to bridge many altimeters again. First in the oppressive heat, the last twenty kilometers in pouring rain, with also some hail and thunder.
Another steep slope
It was hard work today, and now and then a curse rang out on the flanks of yet another steep slope, emanating from the mouths of my two Bible-steady companions.
But just after half past three we reached our destination, dripping with a mixture of sweat and rain, our feet sloshing in the cycling shoes.
We are guests of my old friend Hans, who ran a campsite here with his partner for 28 years. Hans and I still see each other regularly, but I hadn’t visited the campsite for years. It’s there as usual a trip down memory lane † Maybe even a little nicer and greener than before. The new owners, also Dutch, have preserved many good things and here and there made a few personal touches and improvements. They proudly announced that they will be fully booked for a month from July 18.
I sent some pictures to the home front. Eldest son Emile responded immediately: if I could book a week for him and his girlfriend.
That was possible. He will be here again next month, 29 years after he first arrived, as a four-year-old boy. I like that.