Eva on the Via Francigena (and beyond)

Song of the Day: Annie’s Song — John Denver

Some of these days have kind of split personalities (today was one of those), which makes it difficult to pick a song that works for the whole day. However, I picked this song during the morning, my favorite part of the day, so I’m sticking with it even if my day evolved in a different direction.

This is my favorite John Denver song (Nathan’s is “Thank God I’m a Country Boy” which I think probably says something about the differences between us). It was actually written in Aspen, on one of the lifts on Ajax. Aspen is one of my favorite places in the US. If you’re picturing private-jet and logo-mania Aspen, that’s not what I mean — while it’s great in winter, Aspen in the summer / fall, when it’s quieter and you can hike and bike up and down the valley, is my favorite version of Aspen. And that is the version that this song evokes for me. And, it’s a fast waltz (even a Viennese waltz), and I am definitely partial to waltzes.

Given my near brush with heat stroke yesterday, and given the continuing heat wave across Europe, I knew I would need to start today much earlier if I wanted to stay walking fit for the next few days. So, painfully, I woke up at 5am and dressed and packed as quietly as possible so as not to wake Giulia, who had opted to take the train today given her blister.

Just after 5:30 I tiptoed downstairs, bid an au revoir to Mme. Jacqueminet, who was already awake, and headed out into the darkness, equipped with my headlamp and a hi-vis vest. To be honest, though Trepail seems like a lovely village (one of the many semi-deserted villages I have come across), walking in the dark made me a bit uneasy. I ended up calling my dad, since it was still before midnight in the US, and talking with him as I walked until the sky brightened just after 6. The first part in the dark quickly took me out of town and into the champagne fields once more. As I said goodnight to my dad, I stopped to de-layer, and decided to stand for a few minutes and watch as dawn broke, eating my sad breakfast (a few bites of stale baguette).

The next bit of walking was absolutely spectacular. Behind me, the horizon glowed orange, though the sun had not yet risen. The early morning light shimmered off the leaves of the vines. Ahead of me, what had first been darkness, with the dim lights of villages ahead, opened up into rolling hills of vines before the beautiful flat plateau. The air was cool and fresh. I put on John Denver and began my descent to Ambonnay, another characteristic small village. From there, I pushed on along farm roads and eventually the D-road to Conde-sur-Marne. The sun was just now rising and the fields were bathed in a beautiful pink light.

In Conde-sur-Marne I passed another pizza vending machine (truly, a crime against pizza) and then a vending machine for various local products. I stopped to investigate and was amazed: saucisson, cheese, potatoes, pate, fresh vegetables — I’m sure all of it was delicious. That said, I still find it bizarre how common these vending machines are: evidence of a labor shortage / the general depopulation of these tiny towns. In Conde-sur-Marne I had a pain au chocolat and then headed to the canal, which would be my companion for the rest of the day.

I have to say, I am not the biggest fan of canal walking in general. Yes, it’s flat (this is really the one pro), but I find it incredibly boring as the scenery really does not change, and I find it less conducive to thinking than the open farm roads. Plus, there is rarely shade, and the asphalt quickly warms up and begins to reflect heat back at you.

All this to say, I had an enjoyable first hour (of 3.5) along the canal. The sun was still low and the water reflected the trees and sky — though the water itself was pretty disgusting. I started out listening to Donovan’s Sunshine Superman album, per my dad’s recommendation. It was an interesting one — a bunch of different things going on stylistically, and I’m not sure I understand the sort of medieval-inspired songs. But I liked a number of them, and I was reminded (again, since I always forget) that Donovan was the original singer of Season of the Witch.

Over the course of the day, I saw a few barges, one in a lock waiting for the water to rise, another steaming by me. Pretty cool. However, once the sun was up high the temperature quickly started to rise. I was pushing the pace, not stopping as much as I would normally, trying my best to get to Chalons-en-Champagne before the heat got unbearable. Because of this combination, while my blisters weren’t bothering me, my feet and legs just ached. Not only that, but I for some reason couldn’t get my pack to a comfortable position, and so my back was hurting as well. I eventually paused to have a sandwich (second breakfast at about 10am) and then powered through. About an hour out I crossed the canal to a path on the other side, which was somehow even hotter than the first, and passed by a chemical plant where you could see trucks and trains being loaded up with cargo. I pulled out my solar umbrella and trudged on, chugging my water and trying to not focus on the heat of the sun. Finally, after a slog through Chalon’s industrial outskirts, I arrived to the hostel where Giulia let me in — grateful for a shower and a chance to stretch.

After I had a chance to feel human again, Giulia and I went into town for sightseeing and lunch (a delicious, but structurally unsound burger for me; steak frites for her). We visited the two major churches of Chalons-en-Champagne: Notre-Dame de Vaux and the Chalons Cathedral. Both are considered major churches on the Camino de Santiago (though, interesting, that list doesn’t include Reims or Laon), and both are spectacular Gothic churches, with some 16th century stained glass that has been preserved. The Cathedral also had some of the medieval-style decorations — in particular, the blue starry ceilings that you can also see in Rome at the Church of Santa Maria Sopra Minerva. It also had beautiful orange stained glass windows — quite different from the blues more common in some of these other churches. All in all, I was glad to get some time in Chalons, which the tourist office calls “Le Venice Petillant” (i.e., “the sparkling Venice”).

We also saw some impressive examples of half-timbered houses — this is the region for this style of architecture. The tourist office, where I got my stamp, had a particularly outstanding example of this architecture.

After this we headed back to the hostel, where I took a nap and then tried to plan out my next few days. A bit more context here is probably needed: first, there are two ways out of Chalons-en-Champagne. The first is the more historically accurate version, which follows an old Roman road through Coole to Brienne-le-Chateau. The second is the official VF route, which the French planners have diverted (adding many more days) as the historical route barely passes through any towns, and involves long, hot, exposed days.

Originally, I had planned to take the historical route, and in order to save time, I (in the infinite hubris of a 22 year old planning a journey I wouldn’t take for years) had thought I would push and do it in 2 monster (25 mile) days. Foot issues notwithstanding, with the current heatwave, and the fact that I go through basically all of my water when walking 15-17 miles and would struggle with no places to refill, it seemed supremely stupid to try and push for my original plan. Even breaking up the historical route would be difficult as it would still involve long days with no shade, and still would have the issue of refilling my water.

So, I had 2 days to play with and accommodation already booked in Bar-sur-Aube. My second choice plan was to take the train from Chalons to Vitry-le-Francois, and walk to Brienne-le-Chateau from there in two 15-mile days. Very doable. However, my experience in the heat yesterday made me concerned about this plan — the earliest train out of Chalons wouldn’t get in till 7:30. On top of that, the shortest route out of Vitry-le-Francois was essentially entirely on D-roads, which can be extremely variable in terms of how busy they are. Given that confluence of factors, option 2 was also out.

I then moved on to option 3: follow the suggest VF route and do 2 nights on the road to Vitry, and then train from Vitry to Bar-sur-Aube without an overnight. However, the gite in the first town out of Chalons was fully booked! After weeks of not seeing any other pilgrims, suddenly I am having accommodation issues! Anyway, after a choppy conversation in French (in which I responded “oui, oui!” Multiple times to her request for my name, oops…), I booked a gite halfway between Chalons and Vitry. Now I think I will walk that stretch in 2 days / 1 night (unfortunately more canal walking as to make this work I have to deviate from the VF), stay the night in Vitry and then train to Bar-sur-Aube. Ugh. I am hoping that my train days are over soon.

I started to look into my plans for after Bar-sur-Aube, but determined that this was going to be a whole new knot to untangle — better to give it a few days, see how the weather evolves, and go from there. Planning done for the day, Giulia and I made dinner together (pasta — cooked properly, al dente!) and then I got ready for another early departure tomorrow!

Final mileage: 15.73mi
Walking time: 6h 00m
Elevation gain: 92ft

Accommodation: Les Auberges des Jeugnes hostel in Chalons-en-Champagne. 20 Euro for the night (excluding linens). The place is a total ghost town, Giulia and I are sharing a room meant for 3, and we haven’t seen or heard from anyone else.