A map of the walk
Elevation profile of the walk
This post dives into the Via Podiensis, or as some like to call it, the Chemin de Puy—because who doesn’t want a little French flair in their hiking adventures? This trail is one of France's major pilgrimage routes leading to Santiago de Compostela. But plot twist: my grand adventure will hit the brakes at Saint Jean Pied du Port instead of making it all the way to Santiago.
The Via Podiensis stretches a whopping 750 kilometers (that’s 466 miles for the non-metric folks), starting from Le Puy-en-Velay. It’s like a marathon but with more quaint villages and fewer finish lines! Yes, you read that right—epic proportions of hiking await, so lace up your boots and prepare to virtually walk this journey with me!
I know this post is a bit long, but I did my best to summarize the religious and political history while keeping its importance intact.
In the vast world of Catholic pilgrimage sites, three cities really shine as key destinations. It’s no surprise that Jerusalem, tied closely to Jesus' life, and Rome, home to the relics of Saints Peter and Paul, lead the pack. But then there’s the unexpected gem: Santiago de Compostela, tucked away in a lesser-known part of Galicia, Spain. Its history is a mix of myth and mystery.
When it comes to Jesus' apostles, St. James (or Santiago) is often the least discussed. As the brother of John and the son of a strong-willed mother, he was among Jesus' earliest followers and the first to face martyrdom. But what happened to him after Christ’s crucifixion is shrouded in intrigue. According to Spanish legend, he ventured to the Iberian Peninsula to spread the word, but he didn’t find many followers. His return to the Holy Land ended tragically when Herod Agrippa beheaded him in AD 44.
Legend has it that after his death, his disciples secretly transported his body to the coast, placing it in a stone boat—sails and crew not included. Miraculously, the boat sailed west across the Mediterranean and north into the Atlantic, landing at what’s now Padrón on the Galician coast. There, his disciples retrieved his body and eventually buried him in Santiago de Compostela.
Fast forward nearly eight centuries to 813, when a hermit named Pelayo had a vision of a shining star over a field. Digging there, he uncovered the long-lost bones of St. James. This discovery couldn’t have come at a better time for local Christians, as the Moorish conquest of the Iberian Peninsula was almost complete. Amidst the turmoil, legend tells of the fictional Battle of Clavijo, where St. James appeared on a white horse, rallying the Asturian army against a much larger Muslim force. This marked the beginning of the legend of Santiago Matamoros ('St. James the Moor-killer'), alongside his other persona, Santiago Peregrino ('the pilgrim').
In France, St. James is often depicted in pilgrim attire: a brown cloak, a broad-brimmed hat adorned with a scallop shell, and a staff with a gourd. But he isn’t the only saint dressed for pilgrimage. Along the Via Podiensis, St. Roch (pronounced rock) can sometimes steal the spotlight. Born around 1295 in Montpellier, Roch was a gift to his childless parents. After their passing, he gave away his inheritance, keeping only his pilgrim’s garb and the essentials for survival, eventually setting out for Rome.
When he reached Acquapendente, a town ravaged by plague, he stepped up to help the sick. However, he too fell ill, and in Piacenza, those he had healed chased him away. Finding refuge in a riverside hut, he endured hardship until a miracle occurred: rain quenched his thirst, and a loyal dog brought him bread. After recovering, he returned home, but years of illness had changed him, leading to his imprisonment as a suspected spy. He spent five years in jail, only to die upon release, but his legacy grew as miracles were attributed to him, especially in the fight against the plague.
Though Roch and James can be confused in art, they have distinct features. Roch is often portrayed with his faithful dog by his side, ready with a bread roll. Plus, in some depictions, he lifts his robe to reveal a birthmark or plague sore on one leg.
As Edwin Mullins points out in his insightful overview of the four French pilgrimage routes, the Via Podiensis is the least documented historically. However, today’s pilgrims enjoy its relative seclusion and the well-preserved medieval villages along the way.
Even before St. James's relics were rediscovered, Le Puy-en-Velay was a sacred spot. Charlemagne celebrated mass there multiple times, and by the 10th century, it had become a pilgrimage destination. Its connection to Compostela was solidified when Bishop Godescalc embarked on a pilgrimage from Le Puy to Santiago in 950, possibly marking the first official visit by a high-ranking church official. Upon his return, he commissioned the chapel of Saint-Michel-d'Aiguilhe, a striking feature of the town.
While Le Puy attracted many pilgrims in the Middle Ages, it gradually faded from prominence. By the 19th century, its ties to Santiago were largely forgotten until the archives of Haute-Loire were reopened, revealing its past significance.
It wasn’t until the late 20th century that walkers returned in significant numbers. This resurgence wasn’t just about Santiago, but also the growing trend of walking holidays, leading to the development of Grande Randonnée (GR) routes across Europe. The first GR route was established in 1947, and the GR65, which corresponds to the Via Podiensis, followed in the early 1970s. Today, the Via Podiensis is just as popular as any of the major Chemins de Saint-Jacques, inviting pilgrims to embark on their own journeys of discovery.
The calm vibe of the Via Podiensis today hides a wild history that’s seen this countryside face some serious turmoil over the last thousand years. While I won't dive into ancient battles like the Roman conquest of the Gauls or the chaos of the world wars, which definitely left their marks, I will shine a light on four key conflicts that reshaped the towns and villages along the route.
You might know that the most famous crusades took place in the Holy Land and Spain, but France had its own share of drama. The Albigensian Crusade (1209-1229) had the Church looking inward to tackle supposed heresies at home. Historians from the 19th century pointed fingers at the Cathars, a group of Christians in Southern France who rejected the Church’s authority. Pope Innocent III rallied the faithful, promising forgiveness and land to those who joined the fight. Simon de Montfort, a lesser-known noble, jumped at the chance and became a formidable (if ruthless) leader. He didn’t survive the conflict, but he left his mark as the top landowner in Occitanie before his death.
This crusade also served as a clever excuse for the French crown to expand its control over Southern France. Interestingly, modern historians have found that the 'Cathars' may not have even existed, and the whole heretical frenzy was manipulated for political gain. After the war, many fortified towns—known as bastides—sprouted up, with nearly 700 built in about 150 years, many of which I’ll encounter on my journey.
Now, let’s talk about the Hundred Years' War (1337-1453). It wasn’t just one long war or exactly a hundred years, and not many people know the full story. It kicked off partly due to a succession dispute between Philip, the Count of Valois, and Edward III of England, both with claims to the French throne. Philip seized Aquitaine, which had been under Edward’s control, sparking a series of messy conflicts that were a lot more complicated than just a French-English rivalry. It did, however, ignite a sense of French nationalism, with Joan of Arc playing a pivotal role. She believed she was chosen by God to drive the English out and led troops to victory in Orléans. Though she was captured, tried, and executed (horrifically burned at the stake), her legacy lived on, and by the end of the war, the English were almost entirely out of France, with Calais as the only exception.
The Protestant Reformation shook things up globally, and in France, it led to the French Wars of Religion (1562-1598). After Luther's declarations, small Huguenot communities began to form, influenced by Calvinism from Geneva. The French leaders tried to accommodate these changes, but it didn’t go well. Given the French Crown’s close ties with the Catholic Church, Protestantism was seen as a real threat. The Béarn region became a stronghold for Huguenots, particularly under Queen Jeanne d'Albret. These conflicts were brutal and marked by horrific violence from both sides. The fighting finally came to a halt when Jeanne’s grandson, Henry of Navarre, converted to Catholicism in 1598 and issued the Edict of Nantes, which granted some rights to Huguenots—though this was revoked by Louis XIV in 1685, leading to the expulsion of many Protestants. While the fighting officially ended, the tensions lingered.
Then came the French Revolution, which had a huge impact on the country. For my purposes, the religious changes were particularly striking. Revolutionary leaders tapped into the public’s frustration with the nobility and clergy, leading to a wave of anti-clerical violence in the early years. France went through a de-Christianization process, declaring freedom of religion while placing the Church under civil authority. Church properties were nationalized and often destroyed. Revolutionary leaders called for the removal of statues, crosses, and bells; churches were closed, sold, repurposed, or demolished. The Concordat of 1801 put an end to some of the chaos, but former Church properties never returned to their original owners—traces of those tumultuous years are still visible in the country’s surviving churches.
Southern France boasts remarkable diversity, ranging from the rugged countryside of Auvergne to the lush rolling hills of the Pyrenees, influenced by Basque culture. Each region offers unique traditions and gastronomy to explore. Unlike other routes to Santiago, the Via Podiensis is generally quieter and less crowded. Nevertheless, I anticipate meeting fellow pilgrims and engaging with interesting individuals along the way. 2027, is a Holy year signifying that the festival of Saint James falls on a Sunday, which only happens about 4 times in one's lifetime. I anticipate an influx of pilgrims journeying, particularly along the route leading to Santiago de Compostela. With this in mind, I remain hopeful that my trail (Via Podiensis) will maintain a sense of tranquility. More insights will follow soon.
8 months ago, I began a devotional book titled, The Life You Almost Lived, by Arabah Joy. I admit to beginning this 40-day devotional study with a bit of fear and trepidation. Have you ever noticed that when you seek a deeper relationship with Jesus, all hell breaks loose? The enemy unleashes attacks to derail you in ways you've never seen before. He likes us busy with everyday family activities, distracted by social media, entertainment, career chasing, even church activities, just non-stop busy. The verse, "Above all else guard your heart for from it flow the springs of life" Proverbs 4:23, came to mind. When I bought the devotional book, we were well into the book by Jerry Bridges, The Pursuit of Holiness, in Sunday School. One of the things that really spoke to me was if you get your heart right, everything else: your thoughts, your words, your actions, will follow.
Since it was a 40-day devotional, I thought it would be a good opportunity to revisit my journey through the book and share my thoughts with you on this 40-day journey, so hang on tight...
