Eva on the Via Francigena (and beyond)

Song: Stubborn Love — The Lumineers

I’ve always liked this song, and it’s a great song for being in motion. In general, I think The Lumineers write music for motion, whether that’s hiking or road-tripping across America. So I was surprised to find myself drawn to this song for a rest day, but I listened to it today both times I walked Langres’s ramparts and it just seemed to fit.

It’s a great song, I love the orchestration of it. It was fantastic to hear live when I saw The Lumineers perform in Rome a few months ago (they are, by the way, excellent live performers). My favorite part of the song is the strings, but here are some lyrics that resonate as well:

“It’s better to feel the pain, than nothing at all / The opposite of love’s indifference”

”When we were young, oh-oh we did enough / when it got cold, oh-oh we bundled up/ I can’t be told, ah-ah it can’t be done….so keep your head up, my love / Keep your head up, my love…”

After the long last few days, and the sad departure of my pilgrim companions, I endeavored to put the “rest” in “rest day” today — and I think I succeeded. So, this will be a relatively short update.

I woke up naturally this morning, having fallen asleep watching the F1 replay and not set an alarm. So, at about 7:30 I was up and getting started with my morning, which involved starting another load of laundry, hashing out more plans for the next days, and making myself a four-egg French omelet, which (if I do say so myself) was so delicious. I had missed having a big breakfast so this was a welcome treat.

Following breakfast and my initial chores, I set out to see a bit of the city. Having already visited the cathedral yesterday, the main thing I wanted to do today was walk the ramparts. First I made a pit stop at a spa where my parents and Nathan had tried to book me a birthday massage — however, unfortunately they had not received the message and were fully booked. So it goes — I will try again in Besancon! From there I accomplished my other big item for today: getting my stamp at the tourist office. I’ve now almost completely filled the first side of my fold-out credential — very exciting. I suppose this makes sense as I’m about a quarter of the way done.

After this I took a slow lap around the ramparts, admiring the view across the fields below the city. On one side I looked down toward Lac Liez, which the VF tracks alongside (but I, unfortunately, will be skipping). Nathan and I like to play the online game Geoguessr, which randomly drops you somewhere in the world on Google Street view, and you have to guess your location. Games consist of 5 rounds and the person with the most points (i.e., the closest guesses) wins. Nathan usually beats me resoundingly, but I remember winning one game against him because one round dropped us on the shores of Lac Liez — I remembered the name from my VF planning and was able to select the exact location, banking me enough points to win the game. Further along, I saw the old tram that used to be used to bring people up from the ramparts (those who don’t walk, that is) — it’s unfortunately been replaced by a glass people mover which connects to a parking lot below.

Looping around the city, I could now see the hills where I had come from yesterday. I stood for awhile and admired the view, referencing the maps placed along the ramparts showing the direction you are facing: Mont Blanc (which you can see on a clear day) and Rome in one direction, in another New York and home.

I’m not sure why, but during my walk I started thinking about my parents and growing up. There were a number of young children with their parents on the walls, and I contemplated how different their childhoods must be from those of American kids. And it struck me, as it has before, how hard it is for me to comprehend my own parents’ childhoods, which were so different from mine. I’ve been really lucky to have a good, and not very difficult, life so far — I know my parents, like most parents, were just two people trying their best (doing parenthood for the first time), and I am so grateful for the experiences they gave Devon and I. Sometimes I wonder, if I have children one day, what I will take away from my own childhood to try to give to them.

Emotional rumination for the day done, I continued my walk back toward my Airbnb, and settled in for lunch at a bistro nearby with an excellent wine list. Over 2 hours I sampled a delicious burgundy and a planche of local meats and cheeses, while reading up on the next stages I will be walking until the Swiss border. A couple with a young child, maybe 18 months old, sat down behind me, and the baby wanted to play “peek a boo” with me for maybe 30 minutes. I was happy to, and Mom and Dad seemed happy for the chance to eat their lunch in relative peace.

After lunch I headed back to my Airbnb for a nap, and then began to prepare for my long day tomorrow. Unfortunately, I also received the bad news I had been expecting from Nathan: due to a work conflict, he is no longer able to join me in Switzerland. I had seen this coming so had prepared myself emotionally for it, but I was still very disappointed. Of course, I am happy to be alone and am content in my solitude — but this pilgrimage has been such a special experience for me, and I had hoped to share it with him, especially the moment of reaching the pass. Well, so it goes.

I hit the boulangerie and the grocery store to restock on food for tomorrow, and then stopped at a bistro in the main square for dinner — you guessed it, steak tartare. It was decent, nothing amazing, but hit the spot. On my way back to my Airbnb I ran into fellow pilgrim David again, who was staying in the same building. We chatted a bit more about our plans — now for once I will be ahead of him, so I promised to send any important recon back his way — and he went to grab dinner. I headed for the ramparts, where I was absolutely stunned by the sunset. It had been gray and rainy for most of the day, and there was a layer of haze covering the horizon. But for the moment the sun hung low in the sky, blazing red through the mist. It was really amazing to behold — I tried to snap a few pictures (though of course it doesn’t look as good on camera), and watched as the sun quickly sank below the hazy cloud and disappeared.

I walked back to my Airbnb to sit down to write. The Airbnb had gotten quite hot, so I opened the two large windows that looked out onto a terrace, hoping that I wouldn’t get too many mosquitoes coming in. As it turned out, mosquitoes were not the thing to be worried about. As I wrote and sipped a cup of tea, I noticed a black object move through my peripheral vision. What was that? I whipped my head around and watched a cat disappear into my bedroom — he must have climbed in through the window. I followed in search of him but didn’t see him in the bedroom or bathroom — eventually, I discovered him hiding under my bed. Luckily, he was not as skittish as my grandmother’s cat and seemed to want attention, because as I pss-pss-pss-ed and held out my hand, he actually came over to me. Once he was close enough I scooped him up, carried him back into the living room, and deposited him outside, apologizing profusely.

He was a sweet cat, and clean and fat — he didn’t seem like a stray. I sat in the window for a long time, petting him and gently explaining he couldn’t come back inside, though he continually tried to squirm around my legs into the living room. “Look,” I explained, “I know what you’re trying to do — you think you are slick but it’s very obvious — and even though you’re a cat I’m pretty sure I have faster reflexes than you.” Clearly miffed by this, he threw a Hail Mary and tried to leap over my lap into the warmth of the apartment. I caught him mid-air and once again placed him on the terrace. Embarrassed, he went to lay down out of arms reach, so I closed the window and returned to my writing.

It’s now getting late, and I have an early morning tomorrow and lots of packing to do before then, so I’m going to sign off. All in all, a good day. I’m a bit nervous about the continued pain in my hamstring and knee, but not much to be done about it at this point — I guess I’ll continue to reassess on my way to Champlitte.