My knee started hurting again today, despite the knee brace and rest day in Condom. One problem with rest days is that your backpack feels really heavy the next morning.

Below: The tiny walled town of Larressingle, where medieval bishops could do their scheming away from prying eyes. It had one street and took all of 30 seconds to walk around.

Below: The balise of the GR65 and a pile of rocks put there by pilgrims as confirmation that you’re headed the right way. The sign pointing the way to “Compostelle” was a bit premature, as we had something like 975 kilometers left at this point.

Below: Robert walks through a vineyard after we took a brief detour to the Église de Routges.

Below: At the Relais de Saint-Jacques, which had the feel of an English pub crossed with a run-down hotel. Despite its name, the owner obviously hated pilgrims, and had filled the hallways with newspaper clippings about pilgrims doing bad things. Still, it was really cheap and she served big portions at dinner.

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