A strange bout of diarrhea kept me going all night, the fault of some brackish river water? It doesn’t stop me from getting up in a good mood and brewing some (real) coffee facing the barely risen sun.

The descent towards Pradelles is easy and I’m in excellent spirits. The village welcomes me under a beautiful sun and I take the opportunity to tour the old buildings. I find a book exchange box, which will be the new home of the Hussar that I finished yesterday.

Plunge into Langogne, not much road. The town is much bigger, drearier too. I stop by the pharmacy, as my feet are like Christmas trees, then I land at a café to recharge my batteries, in every sense of the word. The place is quite seedy, I go to the toilets, they’re squat toilets and I can barely stand. Honestly, I prefer doing my business outdoors.

I flee this town that doesn’t appeal to me much, after buying a sandwich.

The Gévaudan opens its arms wide to me; the sun hides, a cold wind rises and thick clouds pile up in dark layers. After a while, thunder is heard. Stevenson hadn’t liked this passage, I fear it. Arriving at Saint-Flour-de-Mercoire, a light rain sets in. I continue my way, snubbing a small café-theater (what a mistake!), when, without warning, a deluge catches me. No roof in sight, I have to grit my teeth and keep going.

This story will repeat itself three times in the afternoon. Even though I took precautions, I’m soaked, especially my feet. I tell myself that after all, the hikers’ lodge is fine too. So at Cheylard, I knock on the door, but it’s already full. That said, I wasn’t really inspired by the place anyway, whose wafts of sweaty sneakers reached me from the entrance, not to mention those big men ready to start snoring as soon as they’re under the duvet.

A bit of ointment on the feet. I spotted a lake where a supposed cabin could serve as shelter, but it’s eight kilometers away. I set off, another downpour, the rain is horizontal.

The light at the end of the tunnel, finally, the cabin actually exists. I settle in, put everything to dry and dash off to take a shower in the lake water. At last, calm, dryness, rest. A small deer on the opposite bank watches me.

I’m joined later by another hiker; we share the shelter and supper, it’s pleasant. I’m delighted to have a short stage tomorrow, because I seriously need to tend to my feet, which are doing whatever they want!