How Many Kilometres Should You Walk Each Day on the Via Podiensis/ GR65?
- Camino Way of Life
- 14 minutes ago
- 8 min read
It is one of the first questions people ask when planning to walk the Via Podiensis, the Le Puy Route or GR65:
How many kilometres should I walk each day o the Via Podiensis?
People usually hope for a simple answer.
15 kilometres? 20? 25
But the truth is that there isn't one.
For many pilgrims, somewhere between 15 and 25 kilometres a day is a reasonable range.
But that number alone tells you surprisingly little.
Because a stage is not simply a distance between two points.
The same 20 kilometres can feel completely different depending on the terrain, the weather, your fitness, what you want to do along the way and even what time you set off in the morning.
And on the Via Podiensis, there is another important factor: you cannot always stop exactly where you would like to. The location of accommodation, food and other services will influence how you divide your days.
So perhaps the better question isn't:
How many kilometres should I walk?
But:
What does this particular day actually involve?
Let's look at a very concrete example.
One stage, three completely different experiences
I have walked from Conques to Livinhac-le-Haut three times.
Each time, the route was the same.
Each time, I was walking roughly the same distance.
And each time, the experience was completely different.
First, the climb out of Conques
The stage begins with a steep, rocky climb out of Conques.
The first kilometre takes me roughly 45 minutes.
It is perfectly doable, but it is not a kilometre you can rush. You are climbing steeply on rocky ground, and the number on the map tells you almost nothing about how long that kilometre will actually take.
Once you reach the chapel and the plateau above Conques, the walking becomes much easier for quite some time, although much of it is on pavement.
The landscape opens up.
The walking becomes gentler.
But eventually the pavement can begin to feel long and rather monotonous as you approach the point where you can leave the GR65, cross the bridge and enter Decazeville.
And that is where the same stage can begin to unfold in very different ways.
The first time: I knew nothing about the stage
The first time I walked this section, I knew almost nothing about what lay ahead.
That is often how I like to experience the Camino.
I like arriving somewhere with very few expectations, allowing the landscape, the villages and the experiences to reveal themselves to me as I go.
The climb out of Conques was steep, but perfectly manageable.
It was a hot day, however, and I hadn't left particularly early.
By the time I reached the plateau, I was thirsty and needed a rest.
The walking became easy, but I found the pavement long and a little boring before eventually reaching the point where I could leave the GR65 and cross the bridge directly into Decazeville.
I'm glad I did.
I found a very nice boulangerie where I had lunch and rested. The baker was extremely kind and helpful, and that stop gave me a real boost.
Decazeville: a break in the dream
Decazeville itself can feel strange after the beauty of the countryside you have been walking through.
Arriving there can feel almost like being slapped out of a beautiful dream.
But that contrast is part of the town's story.
Decazeville is not an ancient pilgrimage village that has grown gently around the Camino. It is an industrial town, created in the 19th century around coal mining and the development of the steel industry. The town was named after the Duke of Decazes, who played an important role in the development of the mines and industrial works that transformed the area.
For many years, Decazeville was a busy and prosperous mining town. But as the mines and industry declined, the town went through difficult times, and you can still sense some of that history today.
Perhaps that is why arriving there from the countryside can feel so abrupt.
And yet, I think it would be a mistake to simply dismiss Decazeville as a place to pass through.
It has its own character. Its industrial past has shaped it, and there are some genuinely interesting things to discover there.
The first time I arrived, though, I didn't know that.
I was simply tired.
I should have stopped in Decazeville
The sensible thing to do would have been to stop there.
I could have stayed at Les Volets Bleus, an excellent gîte in Decazeville. They had a bed available.
But I had other ideas.
Everyone in my little Camino cohort had been talking about La Vita e Bella in Livinhac-le-Haut.
I wanted to go there.
So I continued.
After crossing the bridge and rejoining the GR65, there is an uphill section.
If you are already tired, it can feel surprisingly hard.
After that, the route is relatively flat for a while.
Then comes a wooded section and a descent towards the banks of the River Lot.
By then, I was becoming very weary.
I had pain in my left foot, and I found the downhill section towards the river difficult.
After crossing the river into Livinhac-le-Haut, I took a wrong turn.
There was nothing wrong with the waymarking.
I was simply so tired that I couldn't see what was right in front of me anymore.
Eventually, I found my way to La Vita e Bella.
And everyone had been right.
It was a wonderful place.
But I had pushed myself too far.
The following morning, I simply couldn't face walking.
La Vita e Bella was fully booked for another night, but the owners were wonderful. They took me to friends of theirs who had a place somewhere between Livinhac and Figeac.
The following day, we met again at the Figeac market.
I bought everyone a couple of rounds of drinks, and then continued my Camino.
I hardly had time to explore Figeac.
But it was a great experience.
Not because I had planned the day perfectly.
I hadn't.
But because the Camino has a strange way of turning even a poor decision into an unexpected human connection.
The second time: the same stage felt easy
The second time I walked the same section, I was with Robert.
I was in great shape.
The climb out of Conques felt easy.
We stopped for breakfast in Noailhac.
And then, before we knew it, we were in Livinhac-le-Haut.
The same stage that had exhausted me the first time felt easy.
In fact, we almost wished we had gone a little further, perhaps to the gîte where they make their own bread.
Same route.
Same climb.
Same distance.
Completely different day.
The third time: I took my time to appreciate everything
The third time was in June 2025.
By then, I knew exactly what to expect.
I took about 50 minutes to reach the chapel above Conques.
It still required an effort, but I was perfectly fine.
This time, though, I wasn't simply trying to get from Conques to Livinhac-le-Haut.
I wanted to take my time and appreciate everything along the way.
I stopped in Noailhac.
There was a charming new café, and I also went to the Café Vide-Grenier, where I had a wonderful conversation with the lovely woman who runs it.
This time, I deliberately went into Decazeville.
I wanted to explore it.
I visited the church to see the remarkable Stations of the Cross by Gustave Doré.
I took the time to discover the street art.
And I enjoyed a local speciality: estofinado.
This traditional dish of the Decazeville area is made with dried cod or stockfish and potatoes, enriched with ingredients such as eggs, garlic, parsley and walnut oil. Its presence here has its own history: the dried fish once travelled inland along the River Lot and became part of the food culture of the area.
Afterwards, I climbed out of Decazeville, crossed the flatter section and continued through the wooded area and down towards the banks of the River Lot.
This time, I arrived early in Livinhac-le-Haut.
I was pleased to discover a new café on the main square.
And I had the pleasure of discovering a new gîte.
The same stage that had almost defeated me the first time had become a day of walking, cafés, conversation, art, food and discovery.
So, how many kilometres should you walk each day on the Via Podiensis?
For many pilgrims, 15 to 25 kilometres a day is a useful general range.
But don't plan your Camino by kilometres alone.
Look at the whole day:
the terrain
the climbs and descents
the weather
where you can find accommodation
where you can buy food and water
what villages and places you might want to explore
how long you want to spend there
And remember that a stage is not a fixed unit.
The first time I walked from Conques to Livinhac-le-Haut, it was too much for me. The following morning, I simply couldn't face walking.
The second time, it felt almost too short.
The third time, I walked the same distance but deliberately chose to take my time, stopping to appreciate the places, conversations, art, food and small discoveries along the way.
The distance didn't change.
But the experience did.
The information between the stages is what gives you freedom
Many guides divide the route into fixed stages.
But a stage is simply one way of dividing a route.
What gives you real freedom is knowing what lies between the point where you begin your day and the point where you hope to finish.
Where can you stop?
Is there accommodation?
Is there somewhere to eat?
Can you buy food?
Is there water?
How much further is the next village?
And what might you be missing if you simply rush through?
The first time I walked this section, I knew very little about the stage ahead.
And that was partly intentional. I like leaving room for surprise.
But there is a difference between allowing the Camino to surprise you and simply not knowing what your options are.
If I had known exactly what was available that day, I could still have experienced everything as it unfolded.
I could still have stopped in Decazeville for lunch.
I could still have followed my curiosity into the town.
I could still have chosen to continue to Livinhac-le-Haut.
But I would have known that stopping in Decazeville was a possibility.
And that is an important difference.
Planning your own stages
This is one of the reasons Rob created Walking the Via Podiensis Made Simple.
The guide was conceived to help you build your own stages.
Rather than telling you where you should start and finish each day, it gives you the information you need to understand what lies ahead and make your own decisions.
What is available in the villages along the route?
Where can you find accommodation?
Where can you eat?
Where can you find water and other essential services?
How far is the next village or possible stopping point?
With that information, you can begin to build an itinerary that works for you.
Perhaps you want a shorter day.
Perhaps you are happy walking further.
Perhaps you want to stop somewhere to visit a church, explore a village or simply enjoy a long lunch.
Perhaps you arrive somewhere and discover that you've had enough for the day.
Or perhaps, like me, everyone is talking about a particular gîte and you decide that you really want to go there.
The guide doesn't tell you how to walk the Camino.
It gives you the information you need to build the Camino you want to walk.
I hope this article will help you think about how to prepare for your own Camino, and how to plan a journey that feels right for you.
Because the route does not divide itself into perfect stages.
And neither should your Camino have to fit someone else's idea of what a stage should be.
A stage on paper is simply a distance.
A stage on the Camino is everything that happens between the beginning and the end.
Buen Camino,
Kate
Kate is a French-born pilgrim who has walked the Via Podiensis several times. Since her first walk in 2015, the Camino has become a central part of her life. She writes about the Via Podiensis and the experiences, people and places that make each Camino unique.
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