Even before we had settled in the Southwest, I had always wanted to follow the Trail of the Cathars, that mysterious sect that split from the established Church in the 12th century, and spread widely over much of the south and southwest of France. The trail runs roughly from the Mediterranean at Perpignan, west to Foix, in the foothills of the Pyrenees.
The reason it is called the Trail of the Cathars is because there is a series of castles that were the refuges of this heretical sect that been persecuted and repressed in the lowlands of the Languedoc and Rousillon regions. There are five large castles, all impressive, all sitting very high, and now in ruins. They are called Aguilar, Termes, Queribus, Puilaurens, and Peyrepertuse. (There are many other castles in the region, of lesser importance). To them must be added Montsegur, the last bastion of the Cathars in which, after a terrible siege, the leaders were all killed by the armies of the French and other nations who had been ordered to be annihilated by Pope Innocent in the only Crusade that ever took place in Europe.
Who were the Cathars? They were ordinary people who not only rejected the rites of the Christian church, but also the basic relationship between God and men, as taught by the Church. They believed in a world of strict dualism, in which Evil is everything that is material, and the Good, which is only spiritual. They were puritanical in their everyday lives, believing that they must conquer the Evil of the real world through purity of conduct in order to reach the state of spiritual perfection. They were secretive, highly organized in clusters of communities all over the region. Interestingly enough, they were often protected by the local nobility who were sometimes Cathars themselves.
They were viewed by the Church of Rome as a great danger to organized society, and by the State because they represented a threat to its power and unity. Thus the Crusade of 1208 was launched with great force of arms under the banner of a great and cruel warrior, Simon de Montfort.
There is an anecdote that illustrates his religious fanaticism. In the midst of a repression, one of his lieutenants complained that it was impossible to distinguish between Christians and Cathars.Simon replied “Kill them all, God will recognize his own! “ The ones that the Crusaders didn’t kill in battle were mostly tortured and killed by the Inquisition unless they converted to the Church.
So this is the historical background that provided us a pretext for a great walk with fascinating cultural and historical aspects combined with absolutely stunning scenery---always dominated by the snow-capped Pyrenees.
With a friend and frequent walking companion, Simon Cole, I planned to take the trail during the summer of 2003. It would take a week or a bit more. Unfortunately that summer turned out to be the hottest summer in the last three hundred years of recorded European weather. Hundreds of old people died of heat exhaustion.
And this leads me to the “Medical Miracle “.
During the winter of 2002-2003, I developed extreme pains running from my lower back down through my right leg. I became so pained that I couldn’t sit in a chair, especially a car seat, without getting up after 20 minutes. Naturally I turned to the French medical profession, starting with our family doctor and on to hospitals and special clinics. Scans and other tests were made, with the final consensus coming out as very acute Sciatica made worse by a dislocated disc. I was given a regime of medicines, some physiotherapy, and a lot of advice. What came out at the end was a prohibition of walking (hiking), and only one form of exercise, swimming on, and only, on my back. (My advanced age was a big factor).
Naturally I didn’t take any of that very well, but I was told that I had had the best medical counsel in France. So that was that. Or was it ?
The date with Simon, along with two other walkers, one British, one French was coming up in three weeks time. I was sick at heart with the prospect of missing the great walk that we had planned for so long.
Finally I decided to disobey the doctors, friends, Patsy, and go anyway. I thought to myself, what the hell, this may be my very last walk but I was determined to do it, come what may. Foolhardy and stubborn.
So, very painfully, with 15 kilos of pack on my back, we started out in Fitou, the big Rousillon wine center (check your maps), the beginning of The Trail of the Cathars. The first two days were fairly easy through vineyards and low rolling hills. Although I was in pain, it wasn’t serious enough to fall behind the others (all of whom were younger men). But the heat started to slow us down; the temperature rose to 95-100 every day, with no let up.
The first castle we climbed to was Aguilar, perched on a crag rising to 1300 feet. This was my first big test, and although I passed it, I was behind the others. Strangely enough, I sensed somewhat less pain, an encouraging sign.
Then the next day took us to the spectacular ruin of Queribus. 2300 feet high, you climb vertically up zigzagged paths to reach perhaps the best view in the region. It was such a difficult climb that my companions persuaded me to only go halfway up. But even that was stretching myself and my poor back. That night we must have downed at least six beers each—fatigue and the intolerable heat .Queribus, because of its impossible situation for attackers, was one of the last Cathar castles to fall to the crusaders.
The next day took us over very rough terrain to the enormous ruin of Peyrepertuse. This castle submitted to Simon de Montfort in 1217, but Guillaume de Peyrepertuse resisted once more and sheltered both Cathars and local lords deprived of their lands by the crusaders. The final surrender took place in 1240 after a three-day siege. It is over 300 yards wide at the top and covers a very substantial lower building. I did climb this one, motivated by Simon who played a trick to keep me going. He would say; “I think the top is just around the next bend ", this being repeated over and over again kept me going. But I was in real agony. Now I really regretted the extra weight that I had loaded my pack with.
The next day, after a long and restful night, I really started to feel less pain, and I was game for the next castle, Puilaurens. This giant of a ruin is perched 2300 feet high on a rocky spur. It has a “Disneyland “look, with crenellated walls and turrets. I did climb it, as usual falling way behind my ever-patient fellow walkers. I was very proud of myself, but very, very tired.
Puilaurens was one the few properties of the French king, because of its strategic defense position against the traditional enemy, Aragon .
The following day was one of complete rest and relaxation.We swam in the cold waters of the Alamos Gorge, what a relief from the incredible heat. I was definitely feeling better.
Now, with no more castles to climb up to, our last two days were spent in walking rough, but very scenic paths. All at once , in a flash over some beers at a country inn, it came to me that , one, I had done it ( ! ), and , two, I was feeling much less pain .
So now comes the “Medical Miracle “. Within one week of returning home, I had no more pain whatsoever. And this has continued up to this day.
What happened? My family doctor was dumbfounded, and neither he nor the consultants that I had seen could explain it. Was it the extreme heat combined with my climbing movements? The action of my backpack against my lower back? Did it have something to do with will-power? The mystery remains.
Since then I have made a number of walks in the Pyrenees, always with my pal Simon Cole. We have explored the High Aragon region of Spain, and we completed the Cathar path, visiting the Castles of Puivart (well preserved) and Monsegur itself.
I’m very grateful for this wonderful period of walking in my life, especially since now I cannot climb mountains because of my heart condition. This doesn’t stop me from taking long walks, as long as they are on reasonably level ground. For example, he and I plan to walk along the banks of the Loire next year.
I have a small picture book called “The Castles of the Cathar Country “, which contains lovely photographs of all the castles, with short texts to go with them. I will mail it to the first volunteer who could possibly reproduce the pictures, or maybe circulate it among the various family members.
Suggested readings: The best short history of the Albigensian Crusade is by an English historian, Jonathan Sumption. You may have trouble getting it, but it is definitely in print. Great history and great reading.
I’ll be thinking of other adventures !
Labels: Tener Eckelberry
