Eva on the Via Francigena (and beyond)

Song of the Day: On the Road to Find Out — Cat Stevens

My dad first gave me this song in 2020, when I told him about my interest in walking the VF and picking a song per day. And I’m incredibly grateful to him for it, because it truly is the perfect pilgrimage song.

But because it’s so perfect, I’ve struggled with using it for this blog. I’ve been reserving it for the “perfect” day that perfectly embodies a pilgrimage. But first I was just starting out and didn’t really feel like a pilgrim, then I was blister-stricken and miserable, and then suddenly it felt like a lot of pressure for this song.

Ultimately, I realized that there probably won’t be a perfect, emblematic day. But I thought today — the longest I’ve walked so far on the trail (and I think also the most I’ve walked before in my life), a lovely mix of scenery, and a pilgrim meal to end the day, was pretty close.

(By the way, I can’t choose just one set of lyrics today because they all work too well — I encourage you to just go listen to the song instead!)

I was up before my alarm, but struggled to coax myself out from my duvet for awhile. In the end, the cabin was very nice — the bed was comfortable, it had electricity, and it was just enough space for me to spread out. I wish the window had a screen so I could have it open at night, but otherwise it was the perfect choice. While this campsite wasn’t as nice (in my opinion) as the one in Seraucourt-le-Grand (primarily because it was all glamping in pods / cabins, so lacked a bit of authenticity), I was very glad with my choice and may try to do another cabin / pod situation again. The only downside with the campsites is you have to trek to a central building to use the bathroom or brush your teeth! So, I shuffled over in the morning dew, still waking up, toothbrush in hand.

I was packed and ready by 6:30 or so but it still wasn’t very light out, so I decided to pause and have my first meal of the day (just a banana, as I don’t get hungry in the morning). After dropping my keys off at reception, I was out of the campsite and soon after out of Bar-sur-Aube. Today was going to be long: 20 miles. The most that I’ve ever walked in a day, as far as I know, is about 18 miles. So this was going to be a challenge, which I was looking forward to. For better or worse, my pack presented another challenge: loaded up with max water and with food for 3 days (just in case), it was significantly heavier than normal, and even with the weight sitting on my hips the straps bothered my collarbone. But with not much to do about this other than drink my water and eat my food, I pushed on out of town, over the Aube and past an RV parking lot, where I watched the sun rise over a field. At this point, the landscape was hilly and green — very different from what I’ve seen of France so far.

Soon I was back into champagne vines for the last time this trip, dipping my toe into the Cotes de Bar region — which I now know is almost entirely Pinot Noir. Unlike the Montagne de Reims, which was one big uphill, this section was more up-and-down: good training for the Jura and the Alps, which will come up quickly. I huffed and puffed, pausing periodically to enjoy the view, when lo and behold — a pilgrim, in front of me! Further up the hill I could see a man walking with a large pack. I walked behind him, almost catching up a few times, cresting a hill just before Baroville, an extremely charming champagne town. I stopped to take photos of the view and the pilgrim continued on.

Descending into Baroville, a man pulled up next to me on a bike. He was wearing a “Moët & Chandon Vendages 2021” t-shirt, which I found amusing. Do they give out t-shirts for each harvest the way corporations give out summer retreat t-shirts? He said something to me in French which I didn’t understand, so followed it up with “Are you French?” You’re asking me in English, I thought, I think we both know the answer. “Non, je suis Americaine!” We chatted briefly about the pilgrimage, and before I could ask about his shirt, he pedaled away. I paused outside the Mairie to eat the croissant I had been saving since Vitry-le-Francois and continued on, up another hill, past a gite where an English speaking woman called out “see you on the trail!” (I never did, unfortunately, at least not today), and soon once again had the pilgrim in my sight.

Finally, he slowed to a stop, and turned around and asked if I wanted to take a break with him. I said I did. Turns out he was Patrick from New Zealand, who Krista had stayed with in the Bar-sur-Aube pilgrim gite that night before. Over a snack of Nature Valley granola bars (which both of us were pleased to find in France) we chatted and decided to walk together for a bit. I realized I haven’t done a very good job of introducing people on this blog, so I will try to start now: Patrick is an extremely interesting guy — he makes guitars, and has sold them to some well-known musicians, leading to some very cool stories. He reminds me a bit of my friend Viv’s father, and I think they would get along well. I mentioned my song-a-day concept for the blog and he asked which songs I was using. I threw out some artists: Cat Stevens, Queen, BW Stevenson, George Harrison, Marvin Gaye…. He nodded and said “well, you must have been raised by hippies…” Not too far from the truth, I think.

Saying our final goodbye to champagne, we headed into the forest, going up and down hills and having to navigate a few trees that had fallen across the path. We walked at a good pace, admiring the stands of conifer trees and the slugs that dotted the path. And we commiserated over our attempts to learn French — Patrick had discovered the only language book in his local library was a “Sesame Street” book, so his French is limited to “Thank you,” “I’m sorry,” and “Let’s play!” — the latter of which doesn’t get much use among adults, it seems.

Though it doesn’t always seem that way, I am certainly an introvert, and require a certain amount of alone time to be able to sustain being social. So, while it’s absolutely been nice having more pilgrims to meet this last week, it’s also meant that I’ve needed to be more proactive in carving out time for myself when I can, so that I can enjoy the time with others. That said, I’ve found all 3 pilgrims I’ve met have been very conscientious around this — everyone always asks if people prefer to walk together or alone, and there are no hard feelings when people do split up. It’s nice to have such an open dialogue, since everyone is walking the pilgrimage for their own reasons, and may have their own reasons for wanting company or solitude. I hope to bring more of this perspective to my non-pilgrim life.

Patrick and I eventually reached the former Abbey (now prison) of Clairvaux, where we stopped for a short break and to receive stamps once reception opened. From there, Patrick was continuing following the official VF path and I was taking a Maps.Me shortcut that would avoid the forest but hopefully shave off a few miles. Before we separated, I gave him the names of a few gites for the following stages. His guidebook is, according to him, “probably 10 years old,” and unfortunately many pilgrim accommodations have closed since Covid, so I figured it would be helpful to have some updated options. In fact, I was concerned about his and Krista’s ability to find a place in Chateauvillain, as my accommodation list (allegedly updated each year, though I have had issues with it being inaccurate) had no record of a pilgrim accommodation. Desperate after contacting 4 different hosts in 3 villages along the way, I had booked an Airbnb in Chateauvillain just in case.

So, after a false start on my end where I started down a dead-end path, we said our goodbyes. No more forest for me for the day — I was back to farm roads, this time over gently rolling hills rather than the flat plains from further north. The scenery was beautiful and by 11am or so it was still not too hot. Entering the small village of Juvancourt, I passed by the perfect lunch spot: a shaded picnic table next to the town’s lavoir, a covered area where women would come to do their washing. Many towns in this region still have them, though they are no longer used.

So, I plonked down at the table, pulled off my boots, and prepared my mini-feast: a small saucisson sandwich, a few olives, and a block of chocolate. I inspected my feet, which seemed to be holding up okay so far, though my hips and knees were clearly tired. I watched an excitable horse graze and inspect the cars that drove by for a bit, before re-packing to get back on the road.

It was up, up, uphill out of Juvancourt, on a road pointing toward the local aerodrome. And sure enough, I realized a small airplane was circling overhead. It must have been a beautiful day for flying. My dad called me on his way to play golf, and we chatted as I tracked along a path parallel to the Autoroute. At this point, it was starting to get hot and the sun was out in full force. I started listening to George Harrison’s All Things Must Pass, an album I love, but realized I didn’t have enough service to pull up the full thing so decided to save it for another time.

The next two hours were a bit difficult, on a fully exposed farm road. The cloud cover offered periodic respite from the sun, and I would huddle under shade whenever possible. The scenery was beautiful, but I was ready to be done. Unfortunately, I had many miles left.

I passed more windmills, these ones perched on weird metal stands, and once again came quite close to one of them. I watched the massive metal arms whir around and around (once I was a safe distance away), still amazed at these crazy things. I was just over an hour out now and decided to take one last break at a well-located bench, where I ate an apple under the shade of my umbrella.

Descending from the ridge with the windmills, the last hour was walking on tractor paths across a flat plain, where I could see Chateauvillain’s church in the distance. Much of this was alongside fields of a new crop I hadn’t seen before, which was tall and spiky and…sort of smelly…upon closer inspection I realized this was hemp (or just marijuana, I’m not sure the difference). I’m not sure what the laws are about it in France, so no idea for what purpose it was being cultivated. Thankfully, I eventually shifted over to corn crops, which are less pungent.

After a quick phone call with my mother, I was into Chateauvillain: hot, sweaty, and achey in ways I didn’t think were possible. Luckily my Airbnb was on the way into town, so I stopped off there to deposit my bags (and lay motionless on the bed for awhile) before heading out to see the town.

My first stop was the tourist office, where I happened to walk in on Patrick, who was deep in a half-English / half-French discussion with the young man behind the desk about housing options. The young guy was trying to sell Patrick on a local gite a few kilometers out of town. I offered my (very limited) help in translating, and we soon learned that there was indeed a donativo pilgrim hostel (clearly there must be some sort of secret password to unlock this option, as the kid was very hesitant to mention it). With Patrick en route to the hostel, I asked about seeing the “Chateau” of Chateauvillain and was told I was standing in it — a very unassuming chateau, more of a big house, I guess. Finally I went to go visit the church, but there was a wedding happening with apparently the whole town participating, so I didn’t want to intrude. Taking this as a sign that tourism was not for me today, I headed back to my hotel room to watch the F1 qualifying and relax.

I wasn’t sure what Patrick and Krista’s plans were for dinner (I had mentioned that I was planning on eating at the only restaurant in town), so starving I headed the few blocks, sat down, and ordered a steak. Digging in to my plate a few minutes later, I suddenly heard a noise outside — I looked up and there were Patrick and Krista, waving at me! They joined me at my table and we had a fantastic pilgrim meal to celebrate Krista’s birthday. I now have had the chance to get to know each of them a bit individually through various walks and dinners, so it was really nice to have a group of 3 for dinner. We joked about the long day, commiserated about other tough days on the VF, and generally had a great time. It really, for me, helped me understand some of the appeal of the more crowded Caminos — while I appreciate walking alone, having company for dinner really does make your day better.

We headed back to our accommodations at around 9pm with plans to see each other at the gite in Mormant tomorrow. I actually have lunch plans tomorrow (!), as Nathan’s dad will be driving through France and is detouring to say hello. So, I will hopefully have company for multiple meals tomorrow — what a treat.

Final mileage: 20.77mi
Walking time: 8h 21m
Elevation gain: 262ft

Accomodations: An expensive room booked on Airbnb which turned out to be a room in the Castel Lodges B&B. I wish I had known about the pilgrim hostel as I would have been happy to stay there, but I haven’t seen any information anywhere (in the FFVF guide or online) about it, so for me it was worth paying to ensure I had a place to sleep