Eva on the Via Francigena (and beyond)

Song of the Day: August — Taylor Swift

“But I can see us lost in the memories, August slipped away into a moment in time / ’cause it was never mine”

I bet you were wondering how long it was going to take me to include Taylor on here…well, this probably won’t be the only of her songs I will use. But it’s a great one to close out this first calendar month on the VF (and I highly recommend a listen even if you aren’t a Taylor fan — it’s one of my favorite songs from her indie era). Also well-timed as she announced that she will be showing the Eras tour in theaters starting next month(!)

I have to admit — today was kind of an off day. But, I think after a string of pretty good days — even if some of them involved long mileage, I have earned a day like today. I just couldn’t get myself in the right headspace.

Though I woke at my normal time, I extended my morning by making myself an omelette in the hostel kitchen. It was delicious and I think it was good to start my day with protein for once. I packed and headed out just after 7:30, so the morning was well underway by the time I left. As I was heading out of town, it occurred to me that Seveux probably doesn’t have a supermarket, and I hadn’t checked to see if I would pass any today. I had enough food for lunch today, but not really anything for tomorrow. Luckily, just as this occurred to me, I looked up and saw an open boulangerie across the street, so hustled over to see what was on offer. As I walked in, I heard someone call to me in English “Good morning!” I looked up and there was the woman from the hotel last night! We greeted each other and I thanked her again for the meal, before grabbing a croissant and a sandwich for later.

After one missed turn, I was out of Champlitte and on the road, which was a farm path cutting through pastures. Once again the wet, dewy grass immediately soaked through my boots. I was frustrated — what was the point of spending money on boots that are supposed to be waterproof if they fail within 30 days? Most of the boot seems to be fine, but I think the water is getting in at the top near the laces. Either way, starting my day with wet feet was an unwelcome surprise, made worse by the fact that my socks from yesterday, which I had washed last night, hadn’t dried overnight.

I spent a few minutes researching options while I walk — the boots are leather, and use Oboz’s own waterproofing system rather than Goretex. I think, if I want, I can buy some wax or waterproofing spray to try and re-seal them. Obviously this makes the boots less breathable, but I don’t find them particularly breathable anyway so it would be nice to at least have them be dry.

Anyway at this point I recognized that my head was not where it needed to be, so I decided to take a quick croissant pit stop in Neuvelle-les-Champlitte. I sat down on the edge of the town’s Lavoir, tried to air out my socks a bit, and stared into the middle distance while scarfing down a croissant. Once I’d had enough, I readjusted my pack — which was once again feeling heavy today — and prepared to head out. This is when I noticed that the tube of my camelback (sorry, my non-branded water reservoir) was looking a little grimy. I had been pretty good about emptying it out early on but have kind of lagged the last few days as the heat wave has subsided. I realized that the sore throat I’ve had for the last few days could be because I needed to clean out my camelback — there might be some mold in the tube or the spout. Annoyed at myself for forgetting this, I decided to switch to drinking from my Nalgene as much as possible today.

The next section was about an hour to Montot, which was on the official VF, cutting across familiar fields but with a bit more up-and-down. After some searching I figured out where the church was, but there was no tap for me to get more water. It was connected to a larger complex and it seems there had once been a large chateau here. I sat down on the steps to have an apple and rest, though I didn’t air out my feet this time (probably should have).

From there it was about 1.5 hours to Dampierre-sur-Salon, which had been infamous on the VF for a hulking steel-and-glass large hotel that dwarfed the rest of the medieval town, and was completely out of place for its size. Luckily, Dampierre had a grocery store, so I swung by to pick up what I would need to try and clean my camelback. While there, I saw they had rotisserie chicken behind the butcher counter, and decided to take one to have for lunch. Unfortunately, I didn’t look closely at what was in the box until after I paid, at which point I realized it probably wasn’t chicken — unless chickens have giant leg bones I was unaware of. No, it was rotisserie ham.

I took my ham and various other spoils to a bench and sat down to eat. Though not what I had been craving, it was delicious pork given it was freshly cooked. I shaved off pieces with my knife and ate with my fingers, and also dug into my sandwich — a feast! I sat for longer than I intended to, both again to try and give my feet a break (I could tell that blisters were developing underfoot with these wet days, and my left leg was starting to develop shin splints) and also trying to get my head in the game. It’s not that I was miserable or having a bad time walking — I was just feeling unengaged with the world around me.

I was only an hour and a half or so away at this point, and running low on water in my Nalgene as I hadn’t found a place to refill it. Not ideal. The next section was a tractor track alongside a D-road, where I watched clouds roll in — though it wasn’t in the forecast, it looked like it might rain. Eventually I crossed the D-road and headed into a forested section. This was my favorite part of the day, and the first time since the morning I felt like I was really appreciating the scenery. The forest was dim and quiet, and the path, blanketed at parts in pine needles, was soft underfoot. In some areas clearly there had recently been logging, as the much taller trees were extremely sparse. This got me thinking about an article I had read years ago after the Notre-Dame in Paris caught fire. They wanted to repair the timber roof in the way it had originally been built, but apparently there were no forests old enough, with large enough trees, to make it work. I have no idea how them addressed this problem, I will need to look it up later.

After a quick chat with Nathan as he headed into the office, I was out of the forest and along the D-road leading into Seveux. All I could think about was how desperately I wanted an Orangina, and how impossible it was going to be to get one in a small town. Finally, I arrived at my Gite, and was greeted by Roger, who immediately asked what I wanted to drink — orange juice? I immediately accepted, figuring this was the closest thing to Orangina and wondering how he read my mind.

Roger is very nice, and he and I spoke at length (in my extremely halting French) about his son, my life, the pilgrimage, etc. He spoke slowly and was very patient with me as I googled key words and phrases. He said he was surprised to see a pilgrim so young — most are in their 50s, 60s, or 70s — but that he once had an 18-year-old American, so I was by no means the youngest.

After 30 minutes, maybe more, of chatting, he showed me to the room upstairs where I would stay. I showered and washed my clothes quickly in the sink, and then tried to set about cleaning the camelback. There were a number of issues — first, the skinny brush I had purchased was too short, and couldn’t reach the problematic middle of the tube. Two, the actual bladder part of the contraption desperately wanted to stay closed — the plastic walls would cling together, making it difficult for me to find a way to air-dry it. In the end I don’t even think I got all of the dish soap out of it, and I managed to get water everywhere — it was something of a comedy of errors.

I headed to the pool to write and dip my feet, where I met two new pilgrims from Slovenia (Lilliana and Jannes) who had walked from Coublanc today. They had started from Canterbury on August 11, and walk at least 40 kilometers a day! Suffice it to say that I think we are unlikely to cross paths again as I am walking much less than that.

The four of us (Lilliana, Jannes, Roger, and I) had dinner together: an avocado and tomato salad, a (spicy!) carrot appetizer, and then zucchini / pork / rice followed by cheese and melon from the garden. Everything was delicious and Roger was (rightfully) very proud of his garden. He and I had discussed earlier my interest in wine, so he also broke out a wine from Provence for me to try — he said it was Gamay, but I looked up the appellation and it’s more likely a mix of Syrah and Grenache. It was an interesting wine and very tasty — clearly from the south (14%, with aromas of cooked fruits, redcurrants, liquorice, and some truffle). Certainly a departure from the Pinot Noir I have primarily been drinking in these parts!

The craziest aspect of the dinner is that I ended up serving as the translator. For anyone who has heard me try to speak French, you’ll understand why this was ridiculous (or just bad luck for the Slovenians). Anyway, we did have a wide ranging dinner conversation on topics ranging from work to pilgrimage to Slovenia’s wildlife. I only had to break out Google Translate a few times (notably: “Slovenia gave two bears to France. But the French killed the bears because the bears ate the sheep. Now there are no bears in France.”)

All in all it was a lovely experience — certainly a pilgrim dinner for the books. As I headed upstairs to my room, Roger explained to me that the name of the gite (Reve) comes from the acronym of his and his son’s names. Very sweet.

Tomorrow I am planning on a later start again, even though I think it threw off my energy today. Tomorrow will be hotter, but Maps.Me is taking me on a shortcut through the forest, so I would rather start a bit later and hopefully avoid any rogue wildlife (read: boar) encounters.

Final mileage: 16.02mi
Walking time: 5h 07m
Elevation gain: 453ft

Accommodation: Gite Reve in Seveux. Roger is a very kind host and I’ve very much enjoyed the time here. He has a private gite (attached apartment) on the property, which housed the Slovenians, as well as rooms upstairs. The bathroom is shared with him (the gite has its own).