Eva on the Via Francigena (and beyond)

Song of the Day: The Wolves — Ben Howard

“Falling from high places, falling through lost spaces / now that we’re lonely, now that we’re so far from home…”

I remember first listening to this song while walking in my neighborhood. It wasn’t too long after it came out, soI must have been in high school — it was a grey and drizzling fall day, and I remember thinking that it was a good walking song. The guitar and the strings really paint a beautiful mental image. So today, between forest and fields, I thought this was a fitting soundtrack.

I had another slow morning (I feel like I start every blog like this — I guess I should just admit to myself that I really am not a morning person), and managed to get up, moving and out the door of my B&B at around 6:40. The boulangerie was open so I grabbed a croissant and a pain au chocolat, the latter of which I ate on the move. I had a decision to make: should I start out following the official VF path, which would wander back and forth before entering the forest, or should I set out on the more straightforward D107? Given I wanted to make good time today, and a bit wary about entering the forest in the early morning, I decided to start out on the road, which was quiet on a Sunday morning. It was a bit chilly in just my t-shirt and hiking pants, a welcome change. The forest was thick and dense on either side of the road, and I started to feel a bit bad about skipping the official route.

After maybe an hour and a half on the road, I found a logging road that would connect me easily to the VF path in the woods. A bit nervous, I quickly skimmed a few articles on wild boars to make sure I remembered the best way to respond to them, and then set off. I made it about 5 minutes up the track and turned onto the VF path, and after not too much longer, I noticed something moving on the path ahead of me. I stopped, squinting in the dim forest light to try and see what it was. Yep, it was an animal, maybe 15 meters away, and as it turned and crossed the track I could see its profile in silhouette — definitely a wild boar. Shit. Well, at least I knew the procedure — stay your distance, if you get too close back away slowly, and DON’T RUN AWAY. Oh, and if it attacks you, try to climb a tree — they run very fast but have little legs. As I ran through these in my head, I realized they weren’t very helpful for the situation I found myself in.

I stood for what must have been at least a few minutes, watching the boar pace back and forth across the trail, blocking my path. I knew I would need to make a decision. I tried clacking my poles, Meredith Blake-style, to see if the noise would convince it to run into the woods, but it barely seemed to notice. It was now starting to lightly drizzle.

It started to walk toward me, and I stepped backward a few paces, ensuring there was still plenty of space between the two of us. Apparently boars have bad eyesight — though so do I, and I wasn’t wearing my glasses — so I wasn’t sure if it could even see me. I needed to make a decision. I looked back to where I came, hoping that maybe Krista or Patrick, one of whom I thought may have caught up to me, might suddenly appear, but no. It started to rain harder and the boar stepped off the trail, but not wanting to risk it, I turned back and headed towards the road.

Once back on human territory, it began to rain even harder, and I had to stop to put on my rain jacket and rain fly for my pack. Then I continued on, only being passed by a handful of cars, a bit warier now of the forest on either side of me. I really did not want a boar to come springing out of the woods onto the road.

Finally I made it to Richebourg, at which point the rain had stopped and I was overheating, sweaty under my rain jacket. I stopped on a bench to tape up some hot-spots on my feel, and eat and apple and my second croissant. I did this all slowly, trying to figure out my next moves. I had no idea when Patrick or Krista had set out, so the chances of us crossing paths were relatively low. And the idea of heading back onto the VF into the woods, and risking another solo boar encounter, was not very appealing. I decided that (in the immortal words of Randy Jackson), that’s gonna be a no from me, dawg — I would skip the VF and continue again on the road.

The temperature had dropped with the rain, hovering at about 60 degrees, and I realized I was shivering. I pulled out my fleece from my pack — this thing hasn’t seen the light of day since Wisques, I think? Finally I put my boots back on and got ready to head out. On the way out I paused to visit Richebourg’s small church, which was open and adorned with a Via Francigena sign.

I was back into fields for a bit out of town, and paused for awhile at the VF turn-off, thinking and re-thinking my decision. Finally I decided that there was limited downside to taking the road (and really, limited upside to talking the forest path), so continued on my way, alternating between forest and fields. Maybe 30 minutes before Mormant, the countryside opened up into a beautiful clear blue sky, vast fields, and a horizon punctuated by two sort of strange-looking trees and a tall pile of hay. Singing along to “Alice’s Restaurant,” I meandered into the hamlet of Mormant, which is a handful of buildings that, I gather, used to collectively make up an Abbey. I managed to locate Annick, the lovely woman running the gite, who showed me to my room. After a shower and some laundry, I headed out to meet Chris, Nathan’s dad, who would meet me for lunch.

Chris picked me up from the D102 road I had come in on, and we drove about 10 minutes to Villers-sur-Suize for lunch at a hotel restaurant, the only place open for miles. I realized later that the place had seen familiar, because the VF actually passes near this town, and it had come up in my planning research! Anyway, it was a fixed menu of 3 courses: I had jambon cru, a delicious rabbit dish in a cream sauce, and a crème brûlée, accompanied by a glass of red wine. Everything was absolutely delicious. It was really nice to see Chris, who I last saw in London right before I left for this trip. We caught up on how Nathan’s brothers are doing and we talked a bit more about my journey. He was headed south and had many more hours of driving, so after a leisurely lunch we drove back to Mormant (“You can just drop me off by the roadside cross, I can make my way from there” — not a sentence I would normally expect to hear myself saying) and said our goodbyes. A really lovely surprise and I’m glad we were able to make it work.

Back at the gite I went for a nap, and upon waking up realized we had a full house! In addition to Patrick and Krista, we had two additional pilgrims: Terry and Ken from Canada, who started out in Reims (continuing a journey they started last year) and are using a trolley rather than backpacks.

Patrick, Krista, and I sat outside for a bit, drinking tea, chatting, and discussing the plans for the next days. I realized I had only just met Patrick the day before, and I’ve only known Krista for maybe 2 weeks — it is remarkable how quickly you can develop a real sense of ease (and camaraderie) with fellow pilgrims. It reminded me a bit of the movie The Way (mentioned a few posts ago), which showed burgeoning friendships on the Camino de Santiago.

At 7 our host, Annick, brought a basketful of food and the five of us had a really fantastic pilgrim dinner lasting over 2 hours. Over tomato soup, lentils, sausage, a fruit compote, and of course some wine, we covered a whole range of subjects: The Big Lebowski, Quentin Tarantino movies, music, politics, history… It was also a really nice opportunity to get to know Terry and Ken better. Ken works as a firefighter in northern Alberta, and has crazy stories of flying planes to help guide the people who are dropping water on the fire. He offered a really interesting perspective on the recent fires in Canada and Hawaii — and then he and Patrick, the guitar maker, were able to connect on the topic of trees(!) Super interesting how we all find these connections. Anyway it was a warm (emotionally, not physically — finally, it’s a bit chilly) evening, and I’m incredibly grateful for the chance to have so many fellow pilgrims to share it with. And hey — two real meals, with good company, in one day — what more can a weary pilgrim ask for?

Final mileage: 11.82mi
Walking time: 4h 45m
Elevation gain: 386ft

Accommodation: Gite l’Abbaye in Mormant. The hamlet is a collection of houses that used to be an Abbaye that would give pilgrims refuge,and then during the Revolution was turned into a farming commune. Now as far as I can tell the population is ~4. Our host, Annick, was incredibly lovely and cooked us a delicious dinner. I have my own room with a double bed, and Annick left some bread out for those of us leaving early tomorrow. And, I find it nice staying in these really small towns / villages / hamlets where there is no pressure to sightsee after a day’s walking. I hung out for the bit with the cows,said hello to the large domesticated boar, and drank tea in the sun. Paradise. Combined with the company, it’s turned out to be a real highlight so far.