A good restorative night and a continental breakfast later, and I’m on my feet to tackle the day. I buy a walnut bread to round out my supplies, before hitting the road towards Le Monastier.

Some say this stage is optional, because it doesn’t correspond to Stevenson’s route. That’s true, but it’s in the guidebook, and I’m a stickler for details.

A big smile soon spreads across my face as I progress through the flowering fields; the weather is magnificent and the season is ideal.

I make good progress, quickly; I’ve covered fifteen kilometers, and I meet the third hiker of the day, with whom this time I chat. He’s from the North and loves cycling; I’m in for hearing about Liège-Bastogne-Liège.

Arriving at Le Monastier, we part ways; he goes to eat at the village’s small restaurant while I head towards the church square to tackle the sausage and bread, which I’ve been craving since this morning.

Barely this frugal lunch swallowed, someone calls out to offer me water. It’s Nicole, who is dusting off old books she acquired along with her village house, which were getting moldy in the cellar. We chat for a good while; a very interesting character, who has traveled a lot, a bit of a wacky artist on the side.

She runs a bed and breakfast, but my stop is still ten kilometers away; I decline the invitation and set off again under a now well-established heat.

This second part of the day goes without a hitch; I cross charming farms where they’re mowing the grass, which perfumes the air.

Steep descent to Goudet, on the banks of the Loire. Everything is closed, even the small pizzeria/bar. I’m lucky; the owner is playing pétanque in front of the establishment but agrees to serve me a beer. At the same time, his father-in-law already opened up to let me in.

The latter is very friendly and seems to know every nook and cranny of the area. That’s my luck, because the campsite is also closed. He points me to a nice pine forest by the water where I could sleep without any problem.

I leave him after warmly thanking him. What a first day! So many encounters made time seem short. Yet it’s already past four in the afternoon. I head into the undergrowth, wash in the freezing Loire and hang my things to dry.

The temperature will drop suddenly, I know it. A quick meal later and here I am devouring the Hussar again. This is the good life.