Not Every Walk Makes the Itinerary
A hard day in Aveyron, and why I test every trail before inviting you to walk it with me
Life can get you down. It happens to all of us. I am no different. Wars, politics, the cost of living, the environment, starting a business from scratch, feeling like the dorky new kid in school when everyone else gets the jokes. You get the idea. BUT let’s just forget about all that and take a beautiful walk in France with me on a sunny day.
I was staying nearby in Espalion in Aveyron, and I wrote about that here. I was taking in as many walks as I could in the span of a week before moving regions. I was walking every day to fit them all in. It came with difficulties, and it wasn’t easy.
The biggest of which were the recent losses I had to weather just before I departed for France. In the span of two weeks, I lost my beloved mother-in-law, Sandy; my troubled but beautiful rescue dog, Lilou; and my elderly, incontinent cat, Willow. I had also developed plantar fasciitis. Not an ailment you want to have right before hiking for a month.
But I had this month in France planned so I could finally choose an itinerary to start this small-group walking tour business. The show must go on. My heart was heavy and my foot was in pain, but I wasn’t going to let it stop me. Nothing was going to stop me from following my dreams.
I woke up in Espalion in my beautiful, locally owned rental, ate my requisite pain au chocolat with coffee, and headed out. I’m not an over-planner—that’s the free spirit in me. I wasn’t sure where I was going exactly. The Lot River winds its way through the upper reaches of Aveyron, and there are towns dotted all along its circuitous path. My goals were to find a place to eat lunch, find a great hike to share with others, and have an otherwise amazing day in France. This is my jam. Exactly a day like this.
The sun was shining, and my spirits were high despite the hardships. I found a taping system for my foot before I left for my trip. Simone Biles was my inspiration. If she can perform gymnastics at the Olympics while injured and taped up, I could hike with plantar fasciitis. Thank you, Simone.
I drove along the river, and the road goes from pretty green countryside with rolling hills to a canyon with steep rocky cliffs on both sides. It is beautiful. I first came to Entraygues-sur-Truyère. I parked and had a look around. There were hiking maps on a kiosk where I parked, and I could see people in the distance doing the hiking. I walked through town. It seemed like everyone was off somewhere else. There was a restaurant along the rushing river with outdoor tables, and it called to me. Why yes, please.
The server was not nice, and my food was not good. So I took that as my sign to move on. I’m woo-woo like that. I just wasn’t feeling it. So I drove to Estaing, just down the way, yet another town along the Lot River. As the town came into view, I pulled over so I could take its picture. I immediately got good vibes. It was so pretty.
I drove the rest of the way into town and parked right in front of a restaurant called Chez Lilou. A rush of emotions washed over me as I thought of my recently passed dog of the same name.
I looked at my Komoot app to see what trails were nearby, and I found one that fit my criteria. Not too short and not too far. Things were looking up. I put on my backpack and headed out. First, I walked around town. It’s a small village, but the shops were open and people were milling about. A tour bus pulled up, and a rush of people streamed out. That is not my style at all, but I could see how it could help a small village such as this. Estaing is as pretty as a postcard!
Have you ever seen a cat entrance as cute as this???
Et, C’est moi. Do you see the pretty heart in the cobblestones? I told you it was pretty!
I quickly found the start of the hike. And if you don’t know, France is a country where hiking is revered. Yet another thing to love about it. Hiking trails are treated like public rights of way. They can cross through other people’s private property. No matter where you go, there’s a hiking trail nearby. That’s why I didn’t fret about finding one. I knew there would be one there—I just had to find it.
I walked up to the start of the path and immediately stepped into a patch of stinging nettle. Dang it! And what’s funny is that I saw it just as I put my foot down. It was like slow motion: oh hey, isn’t that…? OUCH! But I didn’t let it stop me.
I walked up into a beautiful green grass field, and I could see back over town. It was such a beautiful day, I thought to myself, as the pulsing needles dug further into my ankle. Stupid plant. It apparently makes a healthy tea, though I haven’t tried it.
The trail entered a wooded hillside with curious stone steps—terraced before the trees grew in. I marveled at why they were there. Who built them? And when? Not anytime recently.
The trail kept climbing up and up and up. If you’ve read anything else I’ve written, you know I really hate long uphill climbs. I mean, it’s just not fun. I like to have fun, not kill myself. There better be a fantastic lookout at the top, I muttered to no one as I walked along.
I passed an elderly man with a walking stick heading the opposite direction. We said a quick “Bonjour,” and I swear he had a skip in his step while I, meanwhile, was pouring sweat and grumbling to myself about the climb.
The path opened up at “the top,” I guess. It did look down over a pretty green valley filled with farms, but I was already feeling like this wasn’t a keeper walk for the itinerary. I was starting to feel like I was wasting my time. I came to a small group of homes, some of which were quite nice, but they didn’t temper my encroaching sour mood. The view…
I walked along, and guess who passed me yet again in the opposite direction? The same man. I can’t remember exactly what I said, but it was something I could quickly gather in French about this being a difficult hike. He laughed and said, “But you’re young!” en Français of course, and was giggling to himself as he walked on. Yeah. So funny I forgot to laugh mister!
I re-entered Estaing a different way than I had left it. I have to say, the highlight is the town. A rushing creek runs right through it on its way to the Lot River. It buoyed my mood.
It wasn’t a total failure of a day. It just isn’t a trail I would take paying guests on. I was beat.
If you’re interested in walking in France with me, check out my website at: wewanderfrance.com, where the real itinerary is and the walks that made the cut. I am booking spots for 2026 for weeklong stays. And I already have some guests booked! If you know anyone who loves France, let them know about me—I would appreciate it. It’s important to get out of the cities. If someone LOVES Paris, like so many do, then they would love the rural corners of France too. Spread the love around. Paris is crowded enough.
Walking that day reminded me that hard seasons don’t last forever. Sometimes you just need to keep putting one foot in front of the other. And while the hike isn’t going to be shared this is exactly the kind of experience I want my guests to have—real days, real moments, not just picture-perfect highlights. And thanks for reading. I’m so happy you’re here. I’m honored you used your precious time to read what I wrote. Thank you!












I loved reading this — and really liked the photos too. But I am so sorry for all your recent losses! That’s a lot. So poignant to see that restaurant…
I have a love hate relationship with climbing!