Marching to the Saints

For thirty years I stood behind a bar, when I was released in february last year I discovered that I'd lost the ability to run and walking up & down hills was problematic, then I started taking my camera to the canal & riversides, over fields and through forests. Today I rushed my breakfast and pulled on a pair of socks, one I noticed had a hole but I was in a hurry, I put on my walking shoes then I drove to Karaez to meet up with the group of marchers, no rambling, before setting out for Carnoet, the sock was pulling on my toe hurting but I didn't take it off until we arrived at a prearranged refreshment halt, after that my skin rubbed into the leather becoming raw. There were murmurs that they were walking too quickly with no time to take photos. It was a long stop at St Catherine's and just as they set out someone called to me a chat making it difficult for me to catch up. Rushing along the country lanes played havoc with my leg muscles leading to my getting severe & painful attacks of cramp, I had to stop to try and ease the pain but it kept moving from muscle to muscle making it almost impossible to walk, I struggled along until fortunately the organisers' minibus came back in case there were stragglers. There are 21 giant saints statues, today saw the official unveiling of 7 of the latest of 14 below the seven founding saints or archbishops, 5 of them Welsh, situated on the medieval motte above, in those days there was no difference between Welsh & Breton, but this is lost on the new generations of French Bretons, the saints are Celts ipso facto Irish because Wales is in England and they weren't English. I asked the driver if there was anyway of getting back to my car because I wasn't staying for the evening festivities including a fest-noz with Ar Breudeur Morvan, he told me that he was taking a group back after the unveilings and that I could go with them. The last statue unveiled was that of Saint Teilo which attracted many people from the village of Landelo, nearest village down the road from Plouie where I live. I took photos, had a chat, went to where the minibus was parked only it wasn't. The countryside outside Carnoët is not easy to escape from, however I began walking down a road  with my legs hurting from cramp and the skin of my toe rubbing raw, I didn't have to wait long before I was picked up and taken to a bridge over the Hyeres next to the camp site where with only a few hundred yards to walk I retrieved my car. On our way back through Karaez I asked what was the bustle was causing the road to be fenced off, before realizing it was the Breton schools fundraising market for which I'd telephoned to have a place to sell my photos but didn't fill in the application form. I got back to my house & kitten, put my feet in warm water, switched on the telly and watched 'Carry on Screaming', only because I didn't feel like moving to change channel then Elise came in bringing me a basketful of home grown vegetables. I left the house with 2€ and returned with 2€.