With Edward and Paula
Beautiful walk through the forests of Haut-Marne. I can understand why Sigeric wanted to do this walk: stop by the Boulangerie early in the morning for the day’s provisions; pause before a church, in the shade of a post oak, across from the Mairie for lunch; a cold beer on the terrace of a restaurant at the end of the day watching a parade of vintage cars wind through the narrow streets of the town. He had the life.
Bar sur Aub rests on the banks of the Aub, languorously calling back to a time when it was a center of commerce for the champagne region. The relatively short walk to Clairvaux was along some of the prettiest paths we have walked to date, over gently rolling hills through the last of the champaign vineyards and then corn, wheat and alfalfa fields. The landscape has changed dramatically, we did several 400-500 m climbs along the way. We arrived in Clairvaux during a down poor that rendered the stark contours of Bernard du Clairvaux’s Cistercian abbey dark and somber. Not much of the 11th century structure remains, but it must have been something to behold, at its peak one of the largest Abbeys in Europe. It was destroyed during the 100 year war, rebuilt in the 1700s but converted to a maximum security prison in Napoleon’s time and still used that way today. The Cistercians were the Fundamentalists of their day, insisting on strict adherence to the Rule of St Benedict, first formulated in the 6th century. At its peak Clairvaux was home to 120 monks. That number declined in the 13th century as other monastic movements competed successfully for recruits. Stock options were not invented yet.
Chavanges, a spit of a town, nurtured us. Our gracious hosts Agnette and Jean Francois prepared a delicious meal of lamb stew and potatoes dauphine after which we retired to a restful sleep. Brienne le Chateau, a town that boasts Napoleon found his identify at the military school there and has a Chateau and museum to show for it, drained us. Our room was right on a main truck route so while trying to cope with stifling heat we were serenaded by 18 wheelers pumping brakes. No sleep, but the Camino provides so the next day we had a very pleasant, almost restorative walk, to Bar sur Aube.
As we move into Week 5 I can report we are feeling Strong! However, occasionally I am reminded of a slogan from the window of a tattoo and piercing salon – “you bet it hurts.”
Additionally as we are trudging along my mind turns to Segric, the Serious as he is known in history. Segric, in 990, walked this path from Canterbury to Rome to receive his pallium, think scarf, the ultimate accessory for the Archbishop. But I wonder if he was perhaps know as Segric, the Happy-Go-Lucky until he got to the Alps and then he had the happy sucked out of him. Let’s see if we have any personality shifts. And another question, how did he get home?
Some have asked if we are losing weight – we should be, right!? We burn from 1500 to 2000 calories a day, lug around 10lb+ back packs, and haven’t had a cocktail in a month! In fact when we order wine it is a half bottle, I thought those were for the kids menu. The scene unfolds very delicately – the waiter first clarifies that he has heard correctly, then goes somewhere where those little babies live. He comes back cradling the bottle in the palm of his and presents it like the skeptical remains of a bird. The tasting requires that he stand there holding the bijou. Once served it is then placed in the ice bucket where it bobs and weaves like a drowning swimmer. So, yes, I think we are losing weight but fat is a incredibly loyal companion so if you are trying to decide between the Keto or the Via Francigena, for a weight loss plan I’d go with Keto.
Last night while saying good night from our twin beds, which we pushed together, Edward and I started laughing at the sheer joy and absurdity of it all. Onward.
We walked off piste today to shorten what would otherwise have been a 35km day. This is a walk, not penance. The secondary country roads are not much traveled and go through pleasant towns. We were passed by two guys riding in a maroon convertible 2-chevaux with leather suitcases strapped to the back traveling not much faster than we were walking. A delivery truck stopped to inquire where we were going. When we said, “To Rome!” and after a French shrug and a pursed-lipped “Oughre”, gave us a bottle of cool water. We are trying to figure out why we can walk 20-30 minutes without traffic but then two cars or trucks traveling in opposite directions meet right where we happen to be. It is cosmic.
We can’t get away from WW1. Every town and village have a memorial to the fallen during the Great War. What we need is a daily, 5-minute blaring siren to remind us of the futility and unspeakable horror of war. We are listening to G.C. Meyer’s A World Undone as we walk through fields where Generals, experts at war, confident of victory, executed a strategy whose goal was to deplete the other side’s supply of ammunition by marching row after row of soldiers into the maelstrom of well positioned machine guns. The parallels to our present situation are stark: sanctions, blockades, unlimited supply of weapons, grain shortages, spiraling inflation, demonization of the other side, corrupt regimes, domineering egos, humanity abandoned for savagery and more. I Don’t have any answers, but I agree with the old man in Catch-22 who told Nately “It is better to live on your feet than die on your knees.”
Our walk took us along the Canal Lateral a le Marne, a shaded, straight gravel path with comfy benches every km or so. We are in the center of Champagne region. The signs of Champagne’s bounty are everywhere: elegant cathedrals, stately homes, shops, restaurants. The Harley Davidson rally in the center square came with well-groomed motorcycles straddled by pot-bellied, bearded men wearing Call of Duty sunglasses and leather jackets proclaiming: “I’m a Southern Red-Neck/Kiss my Ass”, as a French rock band played Credence Clearwater, AC/DC, Rolling Stones and closed with “Sweet Home Alabama” to a gently swaying crowd of espadrilles and Nantucket pink shorts. Dinner of roasted lamb shoulder was delicious.
High 90s under the hot sun. We take the heat and sun seriously with frequent water stops. Fortunately, the path takes us into the Reims regional natural park, a long stretch deep into cool woods, where the random fallen log makes for an easy resting stoop. But we arrive at Trepail in a blaze of heat, sweat and fatigue where the accommodations are comfortable but there is no air conditioning or a fan. We slept the uneasy sleep of slumbering in a sweat lodge without a whisper of a breeze. But, good news, the food was decent.
My cousin Anna Maria refers to what we are doing with the Latin phrase ad aster per aspera. There is some of that though we are not suffering in any real sense of the term.
Some pilgrim followers have asked about hotels and food.
Accommodations. Except for our 2-night rest stops, we stay at pilgrim hotels, 2- or 3-star locations, some even have closets. While humble, they are generally comfortable or at least appear that way at the end of a long day walking; we have been disappointed only on a couple of occasions where the hosts seemed to have lost track of their responsibilities. For our longer stays we try to stay at upscale locations though in several cities there aren’t many choices. We are grateful we have not had to camp out on a park bench in front of a Church as many Francigena walkers have done when no facilities were available.
Cuisine. This has been a big surprise. Until arriving in Reims we have enjoyed mediocre food that revealed a penchant for cream sauces and French fries.
We thoroughly enjoyed Reims. The Cathedral is a wonder to behold but we also went to the Reims Automobile Museum which, if you are a fan of vintage Renaults and Citroens, is a pleasant place to visit, and the Carnegie Biblioteque (thanks for the suggestion Roy) which led us to read up on Andrew Carnegie. Our desire for good food was fully satisfied when we enjoyed a delectable meal at a restaurant with the unlikely name CrYpto, and where we also indulged a bottle of 2012 Perrier- Jouet. We hope food gets better as we head south.
We crested a hill and all at once, as if stepping onto a new world, the landscape changed from golden fields of grain to neat green rows of vines stretching to the horizon We are in Champagne region. Hermonville, like many wine region towns, is orderly and clean with a well-preserved Romanesque 12th century church where we listened to the town choir practicing a truly angelic Kyrie Eleison. The Piccolo Pizzeria offered a reasonably good Bolognese. We enjoyed our hosts, a transplanted Dutch couple who left Den Hague 23 years ago to open a B&B in the Marne. They also teach leadership skills in Rwanda. On to Reims.
Walking the Via Francigena 