Tonight’s effort is going to be a somewhat abridged affair as I’m still trying to sort out the technical problems, although I think that yesterday and today now have maps.

Last night as it was fairly warm we had the window of our bedroom open. At about 9:00 pm some bloke outside tapped on the window and made some unintellible noises. It is quite possible that these could have been friendly overtures but the tones didn’t sound particularly friendly so we hastily shut the window and, in the best British manner, pretended that nothing had happened.

Last night I spent ages trying to get our mifi gadget to work with the French sim, no luck at all. The thing works in Italy and also in Britain with loads of different carriers. Here in France? Not a chance!

The failure to get the mifi device working meant that instead of setting off for Ardres at a reasonable time this morning we headed into Calais centre ville again. In the France Telecom shop at one point there were five people trying to get the device to work. In the end they found an English speaking helpline and rang it for me. If the helpline they rang was a helpline which helped mobile users then I am sure that things would have moved forward smartly. Shame in many ways that it was for fixed lines only. My eager helpers gradually dwindled down to one bemused sales person who shrugged helplessly when all had failed and only raised shoulders and eyebrows were in evidence.

We returned to our hotel at about midday and had a drink before putting on our rucksacks and heading towards Ardres. I have been using a small daysack so that I don’t have to have my large rucksack for shopping and so forth. today to save time I couldn’t be bothered to empty the thing and, instead, I lashed it to the outside of my rucksack. What a stupid, stupid thing to do! After about 5 miles I was in a state of desperation and dilapidation, the balance and weight of this illmatched pair were terrible. I should have stopped and sorted it all out but didn’t of course.

We ate lunch in a very nice, inexpensive, restaurant. A very friendly, substantial, lady in charge. Delicious steak hashe de cheval with a portion of pommes frites as substantial as the lady in charge.

This part of France is full of waterways which simplified our choice of routes today as we could not criss cross the countryside if there were no bridges to allow such incontinence of purpose.

We strolled on and on, and on and on, France is completely flat here so the roads and paths are arranged in long straight lines.

The good old rolling English road created by the good old rolling English drunkard has much to be said of it.

Arriving in Ardres at about 5:30pm we had just about had enough of walking. It had been hot and sweaty and, but for the French custom of free use of verges for convenience, it would also have been uncomfortable in the extreme.

We found a bar and refreshed ourselves willingly, the owner telling us where we might find a bed. The hotel is comfortable and we have dined well this evening on traditional French food. The people on the next table were a mother and son. The son was about 40 years old and the mother? Who knows? The son told me, amongst other things over a glass of cognac, that he enjoyed flying model gliders and that he intended to buy a new one as the one he used now was old and tired. He also told me that he was getting a new wife as he had been married for ten years and the new woman wanted to learn how to fly model gliders.
Tomorrow we are probably going to attempt to start strolling at 7:30 am, better go to bed I think.

Today’s stroll, looks a bit odd but it involves the stroll into Calais to talk to france telecom

Yesterday’s stroll was largely enjoyed in the heat of the midday sun due to the late start caused by another meeting with France Telecom. The problems are not yet completely at an end as, on looking through the small print of the sim, before I can recharge the little tyke I must send a copy of my passport and some other stuff to France Telecom.

We resolved to start strolling much earlier today in order to have a cooler balinade. In Italy the bars open early so that people can have a quick coffee and brioche before setting out for work. We wondered if the same custom operated in France. We arose at about 6:30am and, after washing and dressing, left our key and left the hotel on a bar hunt, we hoped that we would find a big one.

The town centre wasn’t full but neither was it empty. Children were going to school and the baker was doing a steady trade with people collecting their bread, croissants and brioches. The bars were all shut so we decided to buy bread and a croissant and to then find a seat on which to sit and wolf down our purchases before getting started on the day’s adventure.

Today has been the day of kindnesses. As we looked for a seat a youngish bloke, in his 20s I should think, came out of the door of the baker’s and, seeing our packs, wanted to know what we were doing and where we were going. After a little while he said “Avez faim?” We said “Oui.” He then said “Don’t move, stay here.” He went back into the baker’s and came out with a bag containing 3 warm, fresh, brioches. He bade us a cheery “Bon chance” and we parted.

We eventually breakfasted sitting on a low wall in the town centre. The brioches were perfect and we made very short work of them.

In order to get to today’s destination we were looking forward to our first taste of a GR, a grand rendonner.

As Ardres retreated behind us the road became narrower and we stopped to consult our map to make sure that all was well. A chap stopped his car and gave us heaps of  useful advice about roads and paths.

Eventually we found a small wooden arrow pointing towards a track in a field, we had found it.

The GR felt very much like the long distance routes in the UK. Strolling among the fields and over hills is what we really enjoy and we had it in abundance today for the first time since arriving in France.

It is quite obvious how much further along the seasons we are here in France.

We approached our destination, Tournehem-sur-la-Hem, looking forward to some lunch and getting our bed for the night arranged. We were early and found a nice cafe for a beer and a sandwich. As we ate and chatted to Mme Doyer, we asked her if she knew of anywhere to stay, she told us that there was an hotel and a chambre d’hote.

Second kindness coming up, Mme Doyer rang both the hotel and chambre d’hote without being asked but had some disappointing news for us. There is to be a basketball competition this weekend and all of the rooms in the town were full. She said that there was a chambre d’hote in the next village which we could try. This news came as a bit of a blow but, fortified by jambon, fromage et biere, we set of into the unknown and the, by now, hot sun getting hotter by the minute it seemed.

On getting into Bonningues-les-Ardres we sought out the chambres d’hote, nowhere to be seen, despair. We found a tabac which doubled as a bar and was also a place where vegetable seeds could be purchased. The lady behind the counter served us our beer and we asked if there was a chambre d’hote in the village. It was at this point that our language skills started to fail. The only way to understand the directions was to draw a sketch map. Leaving our bags behind us we set out once more, sketch map in hand, hopes not too high but, where was this chambre d’hote? In desperation we stopped the only person we could see, a man in a smart business suit, to ask where the place might be. He seemed delighted that we were British and took us straightaway to our destination. Le Manoir, a very grand house set in its own grounds with an imposing entrance. We feared that it would be another bust as madame looked to be very busy. The man in the suit greeted her and explained our situation. She had a room! Would we come back a little later? Of course we would!

We had an enjoyable conversation with a chap back in the tabac, not too sure what it was about but it was obviously friendly as we all parted on good terms, shaking hands and being patted on the back.

Le manoir is lovely, we arrived and slept for an hour or two then went down to dinner. We enjoyed an aperitif made by the proprietors, blackcurrent, ginepre and cider, delicious and drunk sitting on the lawn with occasional visits from the dog.

We dicovered later that madame’s brother had a farm and that the beef  we had been eating was charolais crossed with blonde acquitaine, home produced and delicious.

We wandered about quite a bit today so the map goes all over the place. Lets hope we don’t have to call on the priest for sanctuary tomorrow night.

Despite everything I said about not calling on the priest for a bed for the night we slept on the 27th May as guests of the monks at the Benedictine Abbey at Wisques.

The French long public holiday this weekend appeared to be leading us on an inexorable road to a one short in the bed for the night department. The internet failed us completely but our very kind host, Sylvie, rang the Benedictine Abbey at Wisques and organised a bed for us,

After having bade a fond farewell to our hosts at Le Manoir we set off to find the trail for today. At first it meant a stroll down a quiet country road before getting onto a true footpath once more. Not all of the footpaths marked on the map exist but the majority do and are marked so we could stroll at will.

Today has been truly glorious for strolling, the sun has continued to shine and a cooling breeze has kept us company when we needed it the most.

We aimed for Quercamps first, a small village where we were hoping to find a bar or a bakery for a lunchtime break. We found the bar immediately and went in. After getting a beer we asked if it was possible to have some lunch. The madame said that unfortunately this was not possible. In desperation we asked if she had any packets of crisps as by this time we were each thinking that biting a lump out of the other’s leg was a distinct possibility as a reasonable means of refreshment. Our difficulties increased when we tried to describe a packet of crisps, something made out of potato, something thin, something fried? We found a crisp packet in one of our rucksacks as a demonstration model and now we know the word for crisps in French. We had a bit of a chat with the people in the bar and suddenly madame appeared from the backroom with a plateful of pate sandwiches, delicious.  This was later followed by ice cream and tea and coffee.

Janet became friends with Patricia who introduced us to everyone and madame became Georgette.

We eventually decided that we should move on and succeeded in finding the path to Wisques and to the Abbey. We were welcomed by the hospitaler and shown to our room. The Abbey is very beautiful and we discovered that there were two other people in retreat.

We ate a good, simple, supper together and, using a mix of French and English, each told our life stories and how we came to be here in the Abbey on this day.

Day 53 brings a challenge, no map.

We arose in our monastic simplicity this morning and went down to breakfast at the Abbey. The rules of the order suggest that guests might care to eat breakfast in silence. We ate in silence, quite a  challenge for us.

After packing our rucksacks ready for the road once more we wandered about the abbey looking for father hospitaler in order to make our contribution for having enjoyed the short retreat at the Abbey of St Paul at Wisques.

The father was nowhere to be found so, after talking to the other two people on retreat we put the contributions and a note under his office door.

Today was always going to be a challenge as we had no proper map. All map shops seem to have been shut or did not stock the necessary maps we needed. We felt that we would have to manage with the sketch map picked up in a bar and the gps device. Being optimists we set off along the main road to Wizernes, which looked as thought it might lead us onwards. Stopping at a crossroads we peered left then right then at our meagre geographical resources. A chap stopped his car and asked us where we were going and did we have a map. He looked surprised when we described the journey we were intending to make and at the weak mapping we were using. He warned us to use a different road as the one we intended to use was dangerous.

Walking along roads instead of footpaths became, very quickly, quite tiresome. Watching out for traffic and the reflected heat from the road surface was starting to make the stroll less enjoyable. The GPS suggested that there might be a path we could use somewhere ahead so we looked for it and eventually it appeared at the end of a terrace of houses. We needed now to look at the GPS and the feeble map in order to check that we had a possible winner. We took off our packs and sank to the grassy bank grateful for a rest. It was at this point that I realised that I had left my walking poles in a bus shelter about half a mile back. “Well, blow me!” I said to Janet. “I had better go back and get the little blighters!”

We appeared to be managing quite well without a proper map as the paths seemed to be going in the right direction.

I decided that we shoukd consult the GPS to make sure that all was well when the little tyke told me that it needed to go to sleep as the battery was flat, no map, no gps, that made us feel flat as well. “Still.” we said cheerfully “Good chance this path will get us there!” We followed the signs along leafy lanes, through woods etc for quite some time.

We felt that we must be near to our place of rest and confidently asked a passing cyclist how far from Aire were we. “About 8 Km” she replied cheerfully. We sat under a hedge and I got out the laptop and managed to recharge the GPS enough for us to get a fix. The cyclist was absolutely bang on we were going in the wrong direction and were 5 miles from our bed with an hour in which to get there.

With packs and, in the hot sun, having already walked over 18 miles we thought that 5 miles in an hour without a map would be tricky. Thankfully the ‘phones were working so we could ring the hotel and seek advice. The receptionist was happy to leave the key and the fob for the main door in an envelope in the green bin by the main door, saved again.

We decided to get a move on and stop strolling until we got to Aire.

A woman in the square in a bar at Aire-sur-les-Lys told us where to find the hotel. After a while Janet zoomed off ay high speed, unburdened, and left me to nurse all our worldly belongings and a cool glass of beer.

The map below is a bit odd as loads of detail is missing where the gps conked out.

It was quite odd being the only guests in the hotel last night, but the place was quiet I suppose. Going out for supper last night we had to

let ourselves out of the compound and then, on returning, let ourselves back in once again to our enormous but empty hotel. Breakfast this morning was generous and tasty. The receptionist was able to tell us that the shops likely to have maps would open at about 10:00am. Any hope of an early start was rapidly disappearing over the horizon but the receptionist’s hopeful suggestion that the local Carrefour had maps, and opened at 9:00 am, seemed worth a visit. Carrefour doesn’t sell any maps at all, not even roadmaps. So, “pooh” we thought. Janet legged it into the town centre as I bravely sat with a coffee and minded the rucksacks and stared into the middle distance.

Once equipped with enough maps for the day we set off towards Lillers. The French maps have a symbol which means that a footpath may exist but it is not guaranteed that it does exist. In an attempt to avoid a busy road we set out to use the footpath marked on the map. We strolled about for some time, passing football pitches and gardens and a place with a horse peering over a fence. The weather was warm and somewhat sultry today and we had only done a mile or two so it was quite disappointing to have to return to the road and use it anyway. Imagine our irritation to find that there was a nice pavement along this “dangerous road”. No need for the blessed path at all.

Finding a brasserie for lunch proved to be an impossible task today. but we have learned to improvise. A roll or two from breakfast, a hard boiled egg, a bonbel cheese, a few peanuts, a coke bottle filled with warm water. Tell me what is missing from that lot to make a fine luncheon, eaten sitting by a dusty track with nettles as companions.

Lillers is a pleasant French town and it had a pleasant bar where we could slake our thirsts. There were two gentlemen standing at the bar who wondered what we were doing wandering about with enormous rucksacks. One of these chaps told us that he was a retired baker and had learned his trade in Paris. He told us that it was no fun working at night although kneading the dough made his hands soft and smooth and this delighted his wife.

Being refreshed we had enough strength to find our accommodation, Le Chateau Philomel. We eventually found some enormous gates and a long drive with a lake and an avenue of trees.

We strolled up the driveway dressed in much the same manner as poverty stricken Dickensian characters. The house appeared and we found the owner who let us in to a very grand entrance hall, staircase and bedroom. We enquired about the other guests, how many etc. A pattern is starting to develop, again, we are the only residents.

Again, the lights in the rooms are quite weak. This seems to be a common thread running through accommodation all over the UK and, it seems, in France. In fact I’m writing this blighter wearing a head torch even though all lights are burning with all their tiny might.

We have enough maps for tomorrow so our confidence knows no bounds. We can set out after breakfast to somewhere in France knowing that when we arrive it will be a place to which we have been heading.

As we were eating our breakfasts this morning I asked our host casually about the chateau. He said that his great grandfather had bought the chateau but that its claim to fame was when it had been the HQ for the British in 1915 where the plans were laid for the battle of Loos. I suspect that we will be reminded of past conflicts on many more occasions as we move through this part of France, Vimy, Arras etc.

Looking at our map we could see small perfectly circular hills dotted about the countryside and had speculated on what they might be. Janet wondered if theywere neolithic burial mounds and I wondered if they were WW1 constructions. We showed our host the map and asked him what could they be? He demolished our romantic notions with the words “They are coal tips, not very beautiful.”

The weather forecast, in fact, was good for strollers today, misty and cool to start with the possibility of thunder later. We could see that it was possible to start our stroll along a quiet country track and thus avoid a major road and its traffic. This track would then lead over, or under, the very busy autoroute A26, down which we have travelled on more than one occasion to Italy. The coolness of the air meant that we were walking at quite a pace compared to the last day or two and we were in high spirits, singing snatches of silly songs. It was certainly a surprise when we found a barrier across the track over which we were tripping and tripping came to an end.

When we retraced our steps and used the bridge, provided for the use of motorised vehicles, it quickly became apparent why the French authorities had been so cautious in providing such a secure closure.

I hope that I would have been in possession of enough self control not to have set out to cross this mighty tide of traffic if the barrier had not existed.

The first sight of poppies after this morning’s conversation with our host caused us to pause for a moment or two.

Finding a footpath which would carry us through a wood after having walked by a busy and narrow road was a real pleasure as the weather was getting warmer by the minute and showing no sign of thunder or rain.

Leafy glades in photographs all look the same, this one is really not one I made earlier in England. The shade was more than welcome by this time although insects were beginning to find our British persons interesting as possible sources of nutrients. Before leaving Old Blighty I took the precaution of buying some industrial strength insect repellant which actually had the desired effect and kept the little beggars at bay. The instructions said that the stuff was very effective but that the smell was fairly offensive. There must be more about me that is odd than I had previously thought as I find the smell unusually attractive.

We arrived in Bruay-la-Buissière in plenty of time to relax before supper but had no maps for the morrow or an internet stick that could connect to the internet. The receptionist suggested that maps could be bought in town, a mere 1Km from the hotel. I did get the stick fixed in town but all likely looking map shops sold no maps.

Turning around we went in the other direction and walked back 1 Km then walked another to an out of town complex, maps aplenty, we can walk again tomorrow.

As we were tucking into our croissants etc this morning I was a little disappointed to see a Frenchman at the next table receive a plate of bacon and eggs. Had I known that this option was available to me I would have requested it for myself.

We managed to get away quite early this morning in order to get a good start on what could have been a longish day. The wheel and map suggested that we needed to walk about 15 miles today so we didn’t want to waste any time loitering without any intent.

As we were walking out of Bruay we were stopped by a French woman who asked us why we were walking through Bruay. She had done the pilgrimage to Santiago and so was interested in why we were doing our trip and seemed surprised that Bruay might be involved. She offered us tea etc and it really was a great pity that we had just met this morning as her local walking knowledge was obviously vast.

On the outskirts of the town were the slag heaps. They are quite imposing and we could see that they were being developed, one having a new vineyard starting to grow on its slopes, others having trees etc growing thickly on their slopes.

The weather was cooler today and much more pleasant for walking so we were able to keep up a fairly brisk pace for most of the day. The countryside here is much more interesting than it appears from the seat of a car travelling south at high speed and we have enjoyed today very much indeed.

Passing through a small wood we could hear the unmistakable sounds of a school field trip. A green open area revealed groups of scholars obviously being prepared to complete some woodland activities and having a great time. It was here that we spotted some strange objects made of metal and having chains hanging down from a top ring. Could they be plant pots?

As we were drawing near to Aubigny we spotted a track which would take us there in a fairly straight line and which avoided road completely. We set off down the track and were very pleased to discover that someone had spent quite a lot of time and effort in making the surface hard and dry. Brick ends, bits of old ceramic tiles and other hard debris had been layed down making the path a pleasure on which to walk.

About 50 yards along the path it went into a field and stopped at a fence. No problem for us because we could see that this was not really the path. The real path went into a narrow cutting overgrown with trees, bushes and nettles.

Undaunted by this trifling difficulty placed in our way by a cruel nature we put on our wet weather gear in order to ward off nettle stings and flying insects and plunged headlong into the green unknown.

After some 20 yards the vegetation lessened in its intensity and the way became much easier for us to follow. It was all the more disappointing then to find the path blocked by a fence and a large pool of water and sludge. Ah well! Nothing to do but look at the map and go back. This slight set back probably only added an extra half a mile or so to the stroll so it was an irritant rather than a disaster.

Before leaving Shropshire we remembered that one of our neighbours, John Hart, had ordered an unusual French local dish which was a sausage containing intestines. Being fairly sure that we would not enjoy this any more than he had done we asked Sheila Clarke, our French expert, what this potent dish would be called on a menu. Tonight at supper one of the items was l’andouillette, phew, thank goodness we asked and remembered. 

Lovely day for a stroll today. The weatherman suggested that there might be a few sprinkles of rain, but he was wrong. The road we took was a bumpy track and free of traffic and we strolled along it at speed and with delight. We could see on the map that there was a possible path which would cut off quite a chunk of busy road and, despite the occasions when this has not worked, we resolved to have a look at it. The map indicated that the path might end in the middle of a field and that it started in a farm yard. We got to the farmyard and there was what appeared to be a footpath sign so we followed it into the farm. We could here lots of shouting in a loud and hoarse French voice and a farmer appeared and suddenly started running up his shed still hoarsely shouting. I suggested to Janet that we could ask him about the footpath, did the path carry on through the field perhaps? On balance her advice that he might not be that interested in footpaths at the moment was probably wise. We could hear him still shouting long after we had left his property by the footpath that continued. I would really like to know at what he was shouting.

We started out a little earlier today and by 11:30 were feeling a little peckish. We had bought a camembert in Lillers as emergency rations and I had been carrying it around for a day or two in the warmth of the French sunshine and in the warmth of my rucksack. Last night it had become  necessary to put the little beauty by the bedroom window with the window open, even though we were afraid it might make a bid for freedom. So, at 11:30 we found a shady tree in a village by a church with a comfortable wooden seat and opened the camembert, it was perfect.

Lots of rural railway lines in France have nothing to prevent members of the public strolling down to them and crossing them. I like it, it makes me think that the authorities believe that I can think for myself.

As we got nearer to Arras we could see the beginning of houses and new housing estates. We had been following a GR but  we lost the thing completely at some point here.

I have an electronic 1:50000 map and Janet has a paper 1:25000 map and none of the new developments were shown on either of these maps.  We did know that a prominent building “The Beffroi” was just a few minutes from our hotel but we couldn’t see it. In addition wandering around the housing estates had not improved our sense of direction. I found our position using the gps and then found the position of the Beffroi, then plotted a straight line between the two and attempted to keep us more or less on that line. It was a great relief to see the Beffroi in the distance.

To be honest the relief was even greater when we actually got to the thing.

The square on which we are staying is very lively and is lined with load of bars. Also it is a real pleasure to listen to the carillon which plays before the hour is struck.

Tomorrow is our anniversary so a day off and a good dinner I hope.

For most of last night, at least the parts of last night when we were awake, we could hear the rain falling onto the roof next door. On waking this morning it looked as though it might continue to rain for most of today, as had been predicted by both our host and the TV.

We finally poked our noses out of the hotel doorway at about 9:30am and discovered that the rain had stopped and that the cobbles were shining in the weak sunshine.

Unburdened by rainwear we strolled across the square on the first steps towards Achiet. On the corner of the square we could see an ornate drain cover in the middle of the road so went to look at it. If Janet hadn’t jumped smartly out of the way a passing motorist would have been startled to find a British tourist, of the female pursuasion, clinging to his windscreen wipers.

At this point the rain started again so we huddled in a shop doorway and dressed for rain. It was our intention to follow the GR for the first mile or two today and we discovered some lovely areas of the city.

The inhabitants of Arras are obviously keen producers of vegetables as the area devoted to allotments appeared to continue for at least half a mile, probably longer.

We now have conclusive evidence that French people like vegetables so why do the restaurants not serve up these inexpensive treasures for us all to enjoy?

We have had a wonderful stroll today as we have managed to avoid busy roads and, after the first mile or two, we had no need at all for rainwear. Indeed the weather has been nearly perfect for us, overcast, breezy, not too cold and not too hot.

This open, sparsely populated, countryside is filled with an abundance of wind turbines and all of the infrastructure which is its inevitable accompaniment. French people seem quite content to live in close proximity to all of this stuff.

As I have mentioned before, each village or town here has a powerful reminder of the past.

Tomorrow we will be heading out for somewhere else in France. Our lunch is chilling on the window ledge .

When we set out on this adventure we made several assumptions. Some of these assumptions have been proven to be utterly wrong, both in England and in France.   One of these assumptions was that we would be able to find a reasonable amount of accommodation in rural areas. This lack of accommodation has  increased the length of our strolls and introduced peculiar meanderings into them as well, although it has led us to places which we would never have visited but for the need to sleep in the dry. Another assumption, limited to France, was that it would be relatively easy to buy 1:25000 maps in order to ensure that our daily strolls were no longer than we wanted them to be.

We left Achiet-le-Grand this morning in a  fairly stiff breeze and  quickly had to respond to a shower by donning our wet weather gear. We then headed at some speed towards Bapaume as we did not have a map for the last bit of the trip to Rancourt. We knew that there was a disused railway line and that it ran straight to Bapaume so we set off down the thing with great enthusiasm.

At the beginning of the line the tracks were in good condition and the ballast was free of vegetation so we made modest progress in some comfort being away from all traffic.

Further along the going became more difficult. With a couple of parangs to swat away the lush vegetation we would have made better progress. Not having any parangs tucked away in our rucksacks we were obliged to  leave the railway and use a footpath instead. We were becoming a little anxious by this time that the map shops, if they existed, would be shut for lunch.

We have discovered that Carrefour markets sell the maps we need and that there was one of these in Bapaume. On arrival we tried to get into the shop, the doors opened but the staff told us that they were closed on Monday. What to do now? A group of boys sitting outside tried out their English and told us where we might find an open shop. What a relief when we got to the shop and it was open and it had the maps we needed.The owner gave me his card in case we needed him, he is also a taxi driver. Feeling a little peckish by now we sat on a bench in the park in the rain eating our saucissons, crisps and lettuce. a delicious repast followed by a glass of beer in a bar.

As we stroll around the countryside we keep encountering plies of clay. These piles are dumped on field edges and appear to be abandoned as the crop in the field grows around them.

This part of France was described to us by the tourist information lady at Arras as being empty, just fields. In one sense she was quite right, the landscape does largely consist of large fields of arable crops which are like seas of green. Intermingled with these green seas are tiny villages connected by the lanes and footpaths we use to move south from day to day. Most of these little villages no longer have a baker or butcher and now rely on deliveries from larger towns. At least some of the villages still seem to have a bar tabac, thank goodness, which is a great place to sit and relax and to chat.

The room we have for tonight is quite pleasant and the bath was fabulous. The restaurant was a bit odd though. We asked for a table and sat down. There appeared to be one waiter only who seemed to be incredibly inefficient.  He brought us a menu of huge pretention and price then left us. Other diners entered and were seated and received their menus. In some sort of ritual known only to him he brought out the bread rolls and gave them to just one table. Then disappeared for a little while. He then returned and gave bread rolls to another table and disappeared. He took a drinks order from one man and ignored the rest of us and so on and so on. we finally went into the bar in despair and discovered that the waiter was the barman as well. By this time we were becoming a little tense and decided to go to another restaurant. There being no other restaurant in the village and we, having no means of transport, retired to our room and ate the remnants left over from our lunch. It was delicious and strangely liberating to have eaten some food despite the best efforts of the retaurant to prevent it.

Tomorrow we go on to Péronne.

Today has been a perfect day for a stroll, with the extra benefits of lovely countryside and hardly any need to use busy roads.

We see war cemetaries everywhere here, some large some small, but usually French or British.  The events of the past are recounted in compelling detail on plaques and on memorial stones in every village.

Our path gave us the opportunity to have a go at some nettle flattening and thistle thumping as we set about mastering the countryside of North Eastern France,

For most of the day we were able to stride out and just enjoy the fields, the smell of flowers, and hedgerows. We ate our lunch lounging  drowsily in the sun to the sound of the cuckoo and the lark.

Where is the Somme though? Surely, it must be here somewhere?

The Somme looked enormous on the map and we found it strange that we couldn’t see it, even from a distance of less than half a mile. When it finally came into view it was huge. A series of sluices, canals and locks have been used to create a series of huge lagoons used for fishing, boating etc.

Peronne is a pretty little town which we would never have visited but for the stroll. Tonight we need to devote a considerable time to tomorrow’s stroll. It will be one of the longer ones and will probably be something in the order of 22 miles. So, an early night I think after some very enjoyable Norman cider and dinner with no chips

As the days have gone by we have become fitter and in order not to become too smug about this we have bought some extra stuff in order to add weight to our packs. We now have a dictionary each and I have a new day sack. Janet has ordered a new kettle from Amazon, allowing us to have a nice cup of tea every morning with the added bonus that Janet can fill her hot water bottle.

Today’s stroll was a little longer than usual being about 20 miles long.

Before leaving Peronne we went to the pharmacist  to buy some more Vaseline. My walking friends will testify to the importance of Vaseline to the long distance walker. I had lost my supply and was feeling nervous at its loss. As soon as I purchased the new supply the old one appeared of course.

A significant part of today’s stroll took place on an old roman road but in order to get to this ancient chariotway we had to follow ordinary footpaths through open countryside.

The overnight rain had made some of the paths a little troublesome but they were, for the most part, an easy option.

After some 10 miles we were closing in on a village for some refreshment. the path was obvious and was clearly marked on the GPS and on the walking map. It was a little distressing to find the blighter blocked with saplings and a thicket of nettles.

We hunted about a bit and found a fence over which we could climb. Janet hopped over first and swung upside down on the netting, ho ho I said.

This process added at least half an hour to our stroll as we sat down and consoled ourselves with cheese. On closer inspection of the path we could see that the thing had been moved and that there was an easy, neatly cut, path which we could have taken if it had been on the maps.

We arrived at Vermand with ferocious thirsts and eagerly hunted about for a bar but all were closed for Wednesday.

As the approaches of St Quentin drew near we could see a mighty motorway between us and St Quentin.  My map is out of date and showed no crossing. Janet’s paper map showed that it might be possible to cross but after our earlier experience we were a bit nervous. After 19 miles of strolling we didn’t really want to have to find another way around this obstacle. The map showed a tunnel but we were climbing up a hill and were at the same height as the motorway. We whistled happy tunes and pretended that everything was just fine and that if the path stopped short then that was absolutely alright in the great scheme of things.

The path twisted and turned as it descended and refused to yield up its secret until we were upon it, the tunnel existed, we should go to the ball.

We are staying in an hotel which is part of  group. The hotel is called Premiere Classe, this obviously has a different meaning here in France to that which one might expect it to have as a foreigner.

We left our Premiere Classe accommodation this morning without regret.

Last night, at about 12:45, the fire alarm began its soothing chorus . We were sleeping in a concrete room with a door to the outside and a concrete landing leading to concrete stair down to the concrete ground. My first reaction therefore to the alarm was to turn over and go back to sleep in order to be ready for the morrow.  The alarm persisted so I donned my trusty underpants and went outside just in case there was a fire and we needed to depart in an orderly manner. People were walking about, like me, in various items of nightdress and wondering what might be happening. As a British person I had no idea what was happening but my grey hairs seemed to attract demands for information from our fellow guests. I shrugged hopelessly and this seemed to be enough to send people back to bed. Eventually the alarm stopped, why? Who knows?

After the unusual midnight awakening I arose with less enthusiasm than usual and would have been happy for an hour or two more under the duvet.

Today’s stroll was to be a modest 15 miles so we set out with light hearts and heavy packs. St Quentin is surrounded by water, the mighty Somme and numerous canals are to be stumbled over everywhere. To escape from the city, bridges have to be found. We have noticed that town planners in France have saved space on many roads by ignoring the needs of pedestrians. Approaching a busy road bridge over a river always makes one expect the worst.

The road bridge we chose was the most direct route out of St Quentin so we felt a little downhearted to be thwarted at such an early stage by finding no pedestrian access. We could see from our map that by enjoying a further mile or two of St Quentin’s back streets that a possible alternative bridge could be found. By this time we were in need of refreshment and went into a bar tabac. The kindliness of the average french working man and woman still amazes me, these little back street bars are definitely the places to go to be prepared for a plan B. So after a tea/coffee we set off to find the bridge which could be crossed by people without wheels.

By this time we began to wonder if we were destined to wander the streets of St Quentin in much the same manner as Molly Malone in Dublin.

The blokes in the bar were right, the bridge is open to pedestrians. The next mile or so was not wonderful and involved some possible problems around an industrial estate but we eventually escaped into the countryside. The rest of the stroll was idyllic and we ate our lunch sitting on the side of a path in the sun. French footpaths are not the same as those in England, at least not in the North of France. The ways are more like tracks used by farm vehicles, some with a hard surface and some quite overgrown. There are no stiles or kissing gates.

We could see a storm in the distance for much of the afternoon and had had to climb into wet weather things once or twice. It looked as though we would escape the obvious downpour only for it to dampen us as we approached a wood only two miles from Mennessis. The rain, when it came, was ferocious.

As we enjoyed a tea time snack, much the same as lunch but very tasty, I could hear the sound of frogs in a pool behind me. The pool was surrounded by a wire fence and for a few moments I considered how well protected were these delightful amphibians. I then remembered that I had seen many such ponds echoing to the raucous calls of frogs. France? Frogs? What could these frogs be for?

Getting into Mennessis we crossed over another canal bridge. A lovely day’s stroll finished by a croque monsieur and a glass of Leffe.  

Today’s stroll has been a small town stroll. We have really not seen very much countryside and, although the sun has been much in evidence, the wind was  very chilly meaning that we needed our thin raincoats to keep the blighter out.

We set off early this morning and made our way to Tergnier in order to get a  spot of breakfast as Mennessis could not provide. We got into the town by the back streets so it looked as though there was no town centre, just a load of housing development. As we were feeling quite hungry this lack of a town centre was something of a disappointment. On finding the Mairie in its quite splendid square we felt sure that the lack of shops could only now be temporary.

A coffee and a tea drunk in a small bar revealed that there were three boulangers within easy reach of the bar. Janet has an obsession with maps and now knows the type of shop which could possibly sell them. So we didn’t go directly to a baker but via a map shop detour. We don’t look for possible entertainment or other shops only for bakers and maps, we are in a consumer rut.

We came upon a museum by the side of the road as we started to leave Tergnier. The museum describes the heroism of the local resistance in World War 2 and also the deportations which took place by the civil authorities at the time .

We walked in silence for some time after leaving the museum.

Everywhere we have seen massive pylons carrying lots of big electricity to homes, factories  and farms. it seems perverse that this big electricity comes out of the walls by means of two feeble pins having the diameter of matchsticks.

We arrived in Versigny by 1:30 so have had one of the easiet days.

After yesterday’s early start it was a pleasure to have a lie in this morning. We started out on our stroll at a leisurely pace and at a leisurely time, 12:15pm more or less. After yesterday’s rather dull townie stroll today promised to be much more enjoyable. Versigny is a quiet place but obviously enjoys a game of boules more than a coffee or a glass of wine.

It didn’t take more than a few minutes to find ourselves outside Versigny and entering a wood. We were welcomed at the threshold by a forbidding sign indicating that the wood belonged to the military and that entry was forbidden.  We now had to consider our approach to this difficulty placed in our way by an uncaring military:

1 We continue onwards and, if approached by a uniformed and important looking person, deny any knowledge of French and imply that we are too short sighted to see any notice smaller than a motorway sign at a distance of seven metres.

2 We turn around and make a large detour.

After a second’s discussion we plumped for option one and pressed on. After a little it became obvious that the notice was probably no longer in force as woodland activities had taken place and logs and cut trees were everywhere in abundance.

Walking through the forest was a real pleasure and we heard our first grasshoppers making a din in the fields either side.

We eventually sat down and prepared to eat our picnic of baguette, saussisons, really delicious fromage, etc seated on sheets of bubblewrap. Suddenly Janet hopped to her feet saying “Ants!”  This interlude delayed lunch until an ant free place could be found in which to sit and chat about ants. Ants in Shropshire are small, fast in movement and not too troublesome in my opinion. Janet tells me that Surrey ants are large, fast and nasty blighters and the ones on which we had been sitting appeared to be closely related to the Surrey type. This information made me agree that our hasty retreat had been a very wise move.

In earlier posts I may have referred to the lack of footways for pedestrians in some places. It is quite a surprise to realise that what I had believed to be footways were really semi offroad car parking places.

Another very sleepy town called Crepy which led onwards but still no sign of Laon, our destination. Then, turning a corner we could see the spires of the cathedral on a distant ridge.

A feature of the English section of the stroll was the ever present village church porch under which we could shelter from the rain and eat our lunches. We have not yet found a village church with a porch here, the churches are open but I don’t think that eating lunch inside is an option really. Perhaps it is an option?

An early warning of the next leg of the French section, to Reims, was announced before we made it to Laon.

Laon is a town in two sections. The lower town is modern and not really very pretty. The upper town is ancient and very pretty indeed with many beautiful buildings and well worth a visit, even by non strollers. A really good way to get to the upper town from the lower is by means of the Poma, a cable car which whisks one up and down at a considerable speed at a minimal cost on a trackway on stilts over the streets..

Another fabulous day brought a close by eating  a hearty supper, in a turkish takeaway, of the ubiquitous steak haché – frites. Being very well fed we could go to our hotel happy.

As days go today has been somewhat trying. We decided to have a trip on the Poma from our hotel, which was near to the railway station, up to the old town of Laon as it is such good fun. The entertainment started when the first car went into the maintenance bay. As we zoomed off up the hill to the old town we noticed a splash or two of rain on the cabin window, nothing much just a few spots. When we arrived at the station at the top of the hill there was a bloke washing the station with a power hose. He needn’t have bothered as the rain was hammering down. Off with packs and on with waterproofs and away down the road with a merry song on our lips and the knowledge that we HAD to be at Amifontaine by 6:47 pm at the latest. About 5 minutes into the stroll Janet felt that something was missing , blessed walking poles had hidden themselves in the Poma station.

False start over we set off once again, rain still hammering down with great enthusiasm.

Today we were attempting to use the network of Grand Rendonnees to get to our destination, a challenge as the terrain is not particularly easy in muddy conditions and the navigation takes great care. We also had the time element to add to the mixture as an extra bit of spice.

The stroll started very well, although soggy. We were enjoying the scenery and looking forward to a clearing sky which was not yet with us but gave the impression that at some stage we might be able to discard the impermeables.

We could see woods ahead and knew that, although the ground might be muddy, at least we should be sheltered from the rain to an extent.

It was at this point that I spotted that the GPS tracker was switched off. We had had to make a detour, as the path was blocked by a large muddy ditch, so needed a secure fix to keep on track. We were making very good progress and were well on target to get to Amifontaine by 6:47 and were beginning to really enjoy the presence of summer and all the smells of the flowers surrounding us. the rain had eased and the garden was rosy. We were starting to feel that it was time to sink our gnashers into some bread and cheese and came into Cheret.

Cheret does not have any public seating but it does have a bus shelter by the mairie / ecole. We sat down in the bus shelter and, as there aren’t any buses, could relax knowing that no one would want to catch a bus or that we would disturb the tranquillity of a bus driver who might think that there were passengers to be picked up.

It was after lunch that our plans started to unravel. Leaving Chenet we had the ancient road to Reims to follow and a map of the paths. At some point either the map or we were in error as we ended up in field bordering a wood. The contour lines on the map were densely populated as were the trees. We stumbled about a bit but realised that the only solution was to retrace our steps. This little excursion cost us about three quarters of an hour and sowed the seeds for later on. Undaunted however, we pressed on with great enthusiasm as the sun was peeping out from the clouds, although shyly, hiding itself in order to tease from time to time.

Now we were making really good progress and were moderately back on target,just. We headed off down a gully at breakneck speed ignoring rubble, fallen branches and other inconveniences.

I really hope that this is the path

Arriving at a junction in the gully we checked the map. The map said “Straight on my English friends!” Straight on led nowhere. Was the map wrong? Were we wrong in our map reading? Was the GPS confused by the thick canopy of trees? We needed a compass but luckily could see the sun behind the clouds and, as we knew the time, could orientate ourselves and the map. We guessed that, as the only path going down was also more or less in the right direction, that the Rendonee mark saying don’t fallow this path was probably wrong and could be ignored. In fact we had very little choice really. After some time the map, the GPS and the sun were all in agreement. At some point the path has been rerouted and so the map is no longer correct at this point, this has occured before although sometimes the maps we have bought are old stock so it is well worth checking the map edition when in the map shop. By now any chance of getting to Amifontaine by 6:47 was impossible. Four and a half miles in 45 minutes with heavy packs after 20 miles in the hills?

So, why do we need to be in Amifontaine by 6:47? Accommodation has been very difficult to find between Laon and Reims as the villages are very small. We decided that the only solution was to use public transport creatively and to stay in Reims and do the walk to Reims in 2 or 3 stages.

The last train to Reims leaves Amifontaine at 6:47 and we arrived in Amifontaine 30 minutes later. A bar was open and we went in, dropping the packs and asking  for a beer.  I asked the madame if there was a taxi, more in hope than expectation. She said “Yes, where do you want to go?” She then rang the taxi and explained where we wanted to go and that we had to be in our hotel by 8:00 pm or there wouldn’t be anyone to let us in. The taxi was to arrive in 10 minutes, it didn’t, the madame rang the taxi again obviously giving the bloke a piece if her mind and said to us that he would be here in 2 minutes. She also rang the hotel to get the reception to stay open and would take nothing for all this.

The map

Due to the shortage of accommodation in this part of France we have had to resort to trains to get us to the start of the daily stroll today. There are only a few trains which stop at Amifontaine so we had to rise earlier than usual in order to catch one of these rare beasts. In order to save time we bought the tickets yesterday in case there was a problem with the ticket machine at a crucial moment. We had been a little puzzled by the timetable given to us at the information desk which showed us that the train, for which we had just bought a ticket, had been cancelled.  I had a look on the SNCF.fr website to check whether or not the train was running and the website said that the train did not exist.We arrived at the station at Reims at 7:00 am in plenty of time to got to the information desk, only to find the bloke sitting behind the glass screened counter chatting to someone on the telephone and filling in a long form with several leaves of carbon paper for added importance.  Eventually Janet caught his attention and asked about the train. He looked at us as if we were a bit strange and said “The train goes from platform G, as usual!”.

Today’s stroll was short and over very easy ground which has removed any pressure that we might have felt in getting to our next, infrequent, train. The rain made its customary appearance and has obviously become fond of our company as it tries to come with us as much as it can.Amicourt was shut when we arrived but we were able to find a bus shelter with a seat in, and on, which to eat our makeshift breakfast of baguette, saussisons and water. I have become really accustomed to a croissant and a coffee in the morning and, somehow, the food we had, although worthy, didn’t really please. Most of today’s stroll was adjacent to either a railway line or a canal so, a perfect day out then.

The path was not quite as wide as the map suggested  but was as close to the rails as the map suggested. It, the path, was also very straight indeed.

The path did start to become narrower and became blessed with more luxuriant plan growth. This did not last long and we were back out into the wide open spaces again.

The railway needed to be crossed by going under a bridge where we could see that our friend the rain was friendly with other people too. In fact this puddle looks worse than it was and could be walked around. We arrived at Guignicourt, on the map possibly quite interesting, in fact not very interesting, so we had a coffee, bought a croissant each, ate them and carried on.

The canal we joined at Guignicourt is obviously in use as we saw a couple of canal boats, larger in the beam than ours I think.

The map clearly showed a path running alonside the canal but the entrance was closed by large locked green gates. At the side was another barrier of crossed metal poles. There being no sign barring entry, or warning of dire consequences, we climbed through the crossed poles visible in the photo and walked on. On one side of the path was the canal and on the other quite high embankments. the map suggests that these embankments are holding huge lagoons of either water or stuff for the sewage treatment plant.  We enjoyed the green leafiness of the path and hoped that the French hydraulic engineers had done a good, robust, job.

We arrived in Amicourt with heaps of time to spare and looked around for a place to read the paper and have a coffee. We went into the bar which had the most bored looking peron behind the counter that I have ever seen. It was also the coldest place I have been in for ages. A chap came in and had a chat about footpaths and things but his accent was very strong so I’m not sure whether he or we are any the wiser.My new shoes, although not yet very comfortable,  are waterproof.  Janet’s shoes, on the other hand, have now sprung a leak. It appears that only one of us at any one time can have adequate footwear.   

We have been looking forward to today for what seems like an age, well two days anyway. Today we officially arrive in Reims.

During the night there had obviously been a lot of rain and we were pleased that we would not be officially strolling until after midday. The unofficial strolls this morning involved posting some maps home and a few touristic activities. We discovered this morning that the Roman Temple of Mars is only at the end of the road where we are staying and that we could have given it the once over long before today.

Our host told us that the weather today would not improve, just as we were about to set off on the official strolling session. It is probably just as well that he is not employed by the French meteorological office as the day has been really pleasant and sunny with a balmy breeze to blow through the gap between rucksack and tee shirt, removing any possibility of an unpleasantly sweaty back.

We set off from Aguilcourt with great pleasure. Janet did not want to take any photos of the place in case she remembered something about it. The only photos we have taken show the end of village sign.

The map clearly showed us how to get to today’s footpath and, as it ran alongside the railway, we could see no real problem in finding our way to it. In fact there were no great problems, but the map was wrong. The path was in the correct place but had not been used very much of late meaning that we were forced to don waterproof and nettleproof clothing in order to struggle along its abundant leafiness.

We followed the hedge as described on the map and were looking forward to the path improving. It just carried on as before so I was happy to have my waterproof boots and Janet was happier with her, newly returned to waterproof status, shoes.

We could see that at some point we must either deviate into a field system or cross the railway line. When the time came to make the change the railway line was on an embankment with no legal way across it. We had a crack at climbing up the embankment but were stymied by brambles and a chainlink fence lying on the ground to stabilise the rubble of the embankment. We nearly made it to the tracks but it is probably as well that we failed as getting down the other side would have been just as tricky.

By following a footpath across a field we arrived at an official crossing point. What a pity that we no longer needed to cross the tracks as our side was better at this point.

One of the many pleasures of this trip has been to see the various crops in the fields and to see them ripen.

A recurrent theme of this stroll seems to be the presence of either railway lines or canals. Today we had both of these delights as the way into Reims can be accomplished, without recourse to busy roads by the canal towpath. Within the first few minutes of joining the towpath we saw two broad beam canal boats. The locks here seem to be much more official than in the UK. There are traffic lights at the entrance and a person to organise the opening and closing of the lock gates.

Not only pleasure craft but quite large working barges also use the canal. The barges being large enough to accommodate a  reasonably sized car on the deck.

The canal water was a rather beautiful aquamarine colour, quite startling as it looked exactly the same colour as the water that comes from the high glaciers in Italy in winter. The stuff here must be clean as fish were lurking about and popping up for a gasp now and again. It was odd though that waterfowl were not in any abundance until we got to the busier section, perhaps they like people.

We were following an official GR path into Reims for the latter part of today. Anyone following a Grand Rendonee (GR) must must must  take a map, do not depend on the official markings. Twice in the last few days the official route markings said, “NO, DO NOT GO THIS WAY” In fact that was the correct route.

Finally we are here, we are in Reims and contentedly sipping a glass of wine and a beer. All is well with the world. Tomorrow we stroll onwards to Sept Saulx.

Last night our slumbers were slow to start due to the herd of chattering elephants in the room above ours.

The mixed weather has continued and we awoke to the sight of people scurrying around protected by umbrellas and heavy overcoats. The weather seems to have set into a pattern of overnight rain, soggy morning and clearing up in the late afternoon early evening.

Although our planning for this trip was rudimentary we did expect that the heat in france would become an increasingly difficult burden and that we would have to rise very early in order to avoid being overwhelmed by the fierce rays of the sun as we strolled. As yet the fierce rays of the sun have kept themselves bashfully well hidden and we have not needed to take the extreme precautions which we had envisaged would be necessary.

Today’s stroll was conducted in the sort of weather which I have enjoyed in both Scotland and Wales. I recall many happy days out at Aberystwyth or Barmouth, sitting in the car with the sound of rain drumming on the car roof, my father occasionally flicking the windscreen wiper switch so that we could enjoy a glimpse of the sea.

Our host told us that we should visit the basilica before we left so, as we were strolling out and passing it,  we did. He said that he recommended looking at the outside of the Cathedral and the inside of the Basilica. When we arrived the place was deserted but, as the rain had become more persistent, I stopped in the doorway to put on my overtrousers, at this point a load of people turned up and went inside for a lecture meaning that we didn’t have the place to ourselves as we had expected. Even so, the visit was very enjoyable.

We made our way  back down to the canal in order to get out of the city without using roads. We have become very much aware of how motorways, rivers, canals and busy main roads can act as impassable barriers to the modern day stroller. The canal is a great way of leaving a large city, but it can be tedious as the venue for a stroll. The canal in question spends quite a lot of its time in a cutting or is surrounded by industrial sites. It is quite hard to tell if these factories are defunct or just not working on weekends.

The canal is very straight so one’s perspective is confused. Is the boat in the far distance and large or is it small and nearby? There desn’t appear to be a towpath as seen in the UK. Instead, there is a mixture of smooth macadam, stoned ways and very overgrown grassy paths. These paths are used by lots of cyclists and runners, I suppose that it is very flat and easy for such activities. We have seen very few people just strolling along and enjoying the ambience.

The rain continued for all of today’s stroll. Janet’s shoes were not waterproof, despite her ministrations of the other day, and neither were the new ones I bought only the other day. I’m not sure what shoe manufacturers mean by waterproof. My definition would be that water doesn’t get in and my feet remain dry. In mitigation perhaps, we were walking through long sopping wet grass at some pace for miles and miles today, perhaps theblighters didn’t have a chance.

The wet weather has meant that the canal verges are covered in a fabulous display of wildflowers. Some of these flowers are very familiar to us but a good number are outside our experience. The perfumes are a delight as is the colourful display.

We called in at a village near to the path and found that it was shut. We returned to the path and found a bridge under which to shelter and take huge bites out of our saussisonsslices rasped down with handfuls of crisps. It was then that the rain eased off and it looked as though we could remove the waterproofs and walk in greater comfort. Having finished our lunch we set off once again with the rain, having had a rest with us, able to set off with us as well.

Once again we have had to return to Reims to sleep tonight. Tonight will be the last night here as we move on officially and unofficially tomorrow. Today we strolled to the halt at Sept Soulx and arrived in plenty of time to have a hot chocolate and a cake before the train back to Reims was due to arrive. If the bar had been open I am sure that both hot chocolate and a cake would have been delicious. Disappointed, we shambled to the platform of the halt and sat under the shelter generously provided by SNCF

The shelter looks as though it might be quite cosy, in a spartan sort of way. You will see that it has a roof , back, sides and a seat. All of these qualities beckoned to us as shelter from the rain. How cruel indeed was it when we realised that the seat was wet. That the sides and back were porous and that they let the rain and wind in. We ate a bag cashews standing outside as the rain made its way through the roof as well.

We woke up this morning to see a beautiful blue sky. What a complete contrast to the last few days. I am writing this  outside in the garden in late evening sun in order to make the most of the sun and to get a signal for the dongle. The sun is becoming weaker and the signal was very weak from the start. I’ll try and bung some photos in tomorrow.

Today was the day that I consigned the old faithful, but leaky, shoes to the dustbin. I have total confidence in the new French boots so can do this deed without fear.

The stroll today started by leaving Sept Saulx in sunshine and heading once more towards the canal which has been our companion for the last day or two. It seems quite some time since we could be confident that rainwear would not be needed during a stroll.

In a clearing at the edge of the path at the canal side we could see about 15 to 20 beehives. It was quite beautiful to see the little blighters buzzing about with the sun glistening on their wings as they went about their busy bee type activities.

We could see that following the canal for too great a distance would take us away from Les Grandes Loges rather thank towards it. We knew that the path we needed left the canal at a small bridge so paid particular attention to where we were, using both landmarks and the GPS. Once we were at the important spot, confirmed by map and GPS, we looked for the all important footpath.

Nothing, not even an animal track to be seen. We decided to carry on and hope that the next possible path existed. As we approached this second all important point there was still nothing. We climbed about for a bit and got bitten by various flying insects.

It was here that I learned two important lessons. First lesson, high concentration deet really does repel biting insects. Second lesson, if you are a bloke, wash your hands after applying deet before going to the lavatory. This precaution will avoid ten to fifteen minutes of stinging discomfort and amusement for your walking companion.

Having no choice but to continue following the canal we arrived at the place where the canal disappears into a long tunnel. At this point there was a fairly good road which would take us via the fields to our next landmark.

The road followed the lines of fields containing various crops, sugar beet, ripening barley, potatoes and white and pink flowered poppies, I’m not sure what the poppy seeds would be used for, surely not just dusting the tops of expensive bakery products?

My rather out of date electronic map does not have the next landmark on it so a walker relying on the electronic map would have had a surprise when they bumped into the TGV line, the French High Speed Electrified Train route.

We were able to follow the TGV line, as there is a path adjacent to the line with just a plain wire netting fence, with a strand of barbed wire at the top, to keep the casual stroller out of harm’s way. The TGV is very clean and the track side is protected from herbicides etc so it is very rich in wildflowers. The scents of summer were absolutely fabulous today, I just wish that I had a better knowledge of the plants growing in great abundance along the track. Standing on a lowish narrow bridge over the TGV track is quite an odd experience as the blighter zooms through underneath at 170 mph or thereabouts.

After leaving the railway we quite quickly arrived at today’s stop, Les Grandes Loges. There is no bar or restaurant in the village so the kind hearted owner gave me some pasta and a sauce with which to cook up a tasty supper. This repast being washed down with a large cup of tea has rounded off the day very nicely.

One of the guests staying here is a specialist in the care of the elderly, we should be OK then. She asked me how to say ‘unemployed’ in English and then she told me that there was no likelihood of  there being any unemployment for people in her line of work.

Today has been a funny old day really. We awoke after a long sleep and went down to breakfast of home made bread and really delicious home made jams, my favourite being mirabelle. Our host told us, I think, that her husband grew the wheat and had it milled at a local mill. She is a typical countrywoman and said that there would be no fruit this year as the frost had taken all the blossom.

Today’s stroll was quite short again as we are finding it very difficult to find accommodation in this part of France. The stroll started off very well as the weather was perfect, not too hot, not too cold and not rainy at all.

The only minor hiccup was the path which took us to the railway line, clearly showing a crossing point where no crossing point was to be seen. We toyed with the idea of climbing through the nettles and up onto the ballast and so crossing the lines. If the other side had been visible this is what we would have done but instead found a longer, but more  sensible route .

We were both very pleased that today’s stroll was fairly short as we were both a little under the weather, nothing serious but enough to make us feel undynamic. We arrived on the outskirts of Chalon in quite good time despite the energy deficit. We seem to have a rhythm now and cover the ground at more or less the same speed regardless of packs, weather and terrain.
Having put the address of the hotel into google we headed straight for the place. It was quite disappointing to find a petrol station on that very spot.

This google lack of precision is well known to us and to lots of other travellers so we were rather stupid to rely on the google map position, our own fault really that we ended up in the wrong place. It wasn’t all bad though as we were starting to feel hungry and the petrol station had cooked food, frites of course and some meat. Reinforced from the inside we got out the dreaded dongle and found out where the the hotel really was and set out steadfastly in that direction. We managed to cut off quite a lot of busy road by taking a shortcut across a field at the back of the petrol station. Feeling pleased with ourselves at this wheeze we found a bridge under the duel carriageway and walked to the hotel. Seeing the blighter on the other side of the duel carriageway would have driven lesser people into taking a mighty kick at the roadside barriers.

Ah well, we could see it now. I suppose that it was just an extra couple of miles added to the day so no real disaster.

Having dumped our stuff we fell asleep for an hour or so then set about the task of getting accommodation for tomorrow before going out to look at Chalon.

In addition to some rather grand buildings and quite a few wooden half timbered houses, the mighty River Marne flows through the town. We have already spotted a conenient canal which, we hope, we can follow out of Chalon tomorrow.

Finding a place to eat is quite often a problem in the evenings. The restaurants and other eating establishments cater for the lunchtime trade and so a croque monsieur can be the offering at night. We passed several takeaway pizza places and finally spotted an Indian restaurant. It was interesting to order the same things which we have on our menus in the UK, but toned down considerably for the French palate. I missed the usual  load green chillis with my jalfrezi. The lady who took our order was very chatty and told us about Bangladesh and her liking for France but that she would probably join her sister in London. Tomorrow is still a mystery, thank goodness.

As today has been a lovely day with no problems worth chatting about I have spent some time adding photos to a gallery. It is fairly rough and ready at the moment but I fully intend to tidy the blighter up and add some meaningful text, sometime,  err, well you know! The gallery is called Strolling to Italy – English section and there should be a link on the right handside of the main page or
Click me, the scrolling thing might be slow.

We set off from Chalons this morning in a very lighthearted mood probably because  the croissants at breakfast were very hot and very fresh and we would probably never visit Chalons again.

There is a huge barrage across the Marne at Chalons, which makes the river upstream quite tranquil. I am still really surprised at how green is the water in both rivers and canals in this part of France.

This part of France is not only very arable, on the grand scale of things, but also very watery. We have driven through this landscape quite a few times on our return journeys from Italy but have not really seen the many large rivers, canals and lakes all about.

Of course this watery landscape does come with a small price. The insect life is abundant and vigorous. I am confident that the insects do not compare with those of Scotland for malevolence but still, a mosquito in an unprotected earhole is a mosquito in an unprotected earhole wherever one finds oneself. Good old DEET came to our rescue and discouraged the 17 small biters on Janet’s neck and in her hair.

We arrived at Sogny aux Moulins in time or lunch and asked a group of ladies awaiting the arrival of their children from the school bus, ” Is there a  bar  or a restaurant here?”  They laughed at this ridiculous suggestion  and so we sat once again in the bus shelter for a splendid lunch of yesterday’s bread and some cheese left over from a few days ago, delicious. After a little while one kind and thoughtful person came out and asked if there was anything we needed, the loo, a drink?  Quite remarkable to offer this to complete, and disreputable, foreigner strangers.

Without any intention on our part we arrived at quite an important crossroads today. We strolled on the same ground as many have strolled before on both the ancient paths of Compostella and Francigena

For the greater part of today the ground has been dry and non slippery so I’m not sure why I added the puddle photo, except for sympathy.

All in all a great day, les allouettes and the fabulous wild flowers. Finished off  in a proper French brasserie with  delicious food. Our hotel tonight is run by an eccentric person but the room is huge and the bed comfortable.

At last! We are on the move again. We didn’t get going until after lunch but, as we only had about 12 miles to do, we were fairly certain to arrive at Vitry before 6:00pm.

We crossed over the railway line level crossing and over the main road. The weather was very warm and sultry, but still quite pleasant for walking. The path we needed appeared to have been involved in some serious redesign as there were trenches, pipes, hills and troughs everywhere. As we have continued to stroll our usual approach to blocked paths is to get over, through or under. Today’s little difficulty only lasted for about 30 yards so was nothing at all.

Everywhere, it seems, are huge fields of commercial poppies. The fields are really beginning to look wonderful.

I really should have got out my shades and saxophone as we were on the road to cool.

As we have moved further south we have noticed that the number of villages without the benefit of a bar has increased. By now we were really beginning to feel in need of a pick me up. We were keeping up a fairly good average pace of nearly 3 mph and the air was getting hotter so a glass of beer was starting to come up in our conversations more and more frequently. Would Loisy be the place?

As we sat and slowly savoured each delicious drop the bar lady told us that it had started raining. Saved again by beer.

In order to continue our official stroll we now needed to get to the canal. The French authorities had posted a notice on our only feasible pathway which seemed to suggest that we should have no worries at all about following it.

Approaching the canal we crossed the Marne again. The railway line and the footpath ran parallel with each other over the Marne, the footpath bit being made out of a sort of weldmesh. This gave a fabulous view straight down to the river below to the stroller crossing the bridge.

When one sees heavily laden barges travelling along the canal it is easy to forget how shallow the blighters (canals) are. It is when one crosses an aquaduct over a river that the true depth of the canal becomes obvious.

The rain started to fall with some enthusiasm as we arrived at Vitry. There was to be a big music festival in the town centre today if dry, village hall if wet.

The sports loving types ignored the rain and the musicians decamped to the village hall.

The weather has cleared up now and I can hear the insistant sound of drum and bass vibrating the window pane. Perhaps it is time for one last look at the square. Not too long though as we have to be in St Dizier before 5:30 pm and St Dizier is some 20 miles away.

The heady mix of frites and cooked cheese is filling the air in the square. Young persons are beginning to appear so the party will probably start just as the ancient monuments are about to sleep.

As we had about 20 miles to do today we got up a few minutes earlier than usual and left before sustaining ourselves with a hearty french breakfast. We had maps to take us just to St Dizier, but after that?

It was a glorious morning to be going on a stroll. The sun was shining but there was a crisp feel to the wind which was raising the sparse hairs on my arms to full attention.

Opposite our hotel there is a very convenient boulangerie and patisserie where we could buy the means to eat a late breakfast. We found a seat in a park and scoffed a fresh, warm, brioche.

The outskirts of many of the towns in this part of France are quite industrial. I think that a lot of the buildings are to do with the processing of agricultural produce.

We were, once more, intending to walk at the side of one of the many canals which criss cross this very rivery and watery region. Our map showed a bridge over the canal in more or less the perfect position for us. As we approached the bridge it became apparent that it was just a covered connection between two factory buildings, one on each side of the canal. The bridge was about 20 feet from the ground with no entrances so we abandoned that line of attack.

We carried on strolling and hoping that we would find another crossing point.  Under the railway bridge we could see a lock. We have noticed that locks and bridges are like fish and chips  here so it was starting to look very hopeful that we could get to the path on the correct side of the canal. We went under the bridge and then over a bridge.

The water in the canal is beautifully clear. One can see fish swimming about and  the stalks of waterlilies.

We ate our picnics in church doorways when we were in England. When we moved to France we took over bus shelters. Now that we are near the canals canal lock opening mechanisms have become the new places for us to sit and to  eat. The sun warms up the metal housings and we get a warm seat on which to rest our weary parts.

Janet did manage to find the only small drop of water not in the canal in which to dangle her skirt. I’m still not sure why, perhaps to cool her legs as we walked.

The French airforce has an airfield adjacent to the canal and we had the pleasure of listening to fighter/bomber jets playing in the air above us for an hour or so. I tried to get a photo of the blighters but, although they were very low, all I got was sky. Military planes go jolly quickly at ground level but there are two specks in the photo which are the planes, I think!

This is an agricultural part of France and there are some fabulous events lined up for summer which no one should miss,

We arrived in St Dizier with loads of time to spare. St Dizier is not a place I would particularly want to visit again.

The weather today has been, on the whole, very pleasant. We went to a bar in the town centre for a beer after buying the maps for tomorrow and the day after that. A well lubricated Frenchman joined us for a chat as we sat with shoes off relaxing in the sun.  The Frenchman spoke better German than French so our conversation was a bit odd.

We now have accommodation for tomorrow night so we will be walking away from St Dizier towards Chaumont tomorrow morning.

This “having fun and not being at work” job is very time consuming. we get up early and stroll about all day then think about where to go tomorrow, then see if we can find a bed for the night. When all of that is finished we find somewhere to have supper and then finally, I type up this nonsense .

Our stroll today ended in Eurville. we had not intended to end the stroll in Eurville but we were very pleased about it in the end. Our first contact with Eurville residents was in the bar where a lively discussion took place on many subjects, one chap demonstrating with a loaf of bread his solution to a problem.  Today a couple were getting married in the Mairie at Eurville, our bus stop to Joinville,  so the place was full of people dressed in all their finery. Two younger members of the crowd were kicking a ball about and joined us for a chat.

Mixed is probably the best way to describe today. We left St Dizier for a medium length stroll in glorious weather, sunny but with a cool breeze. Janet had felt a twinge in one of her legs at the end of yesterday, not during the stroll but after resting at the end of the stroll. The twinge started to really cause problems this morning and it began to feel as though we should really abandon the stroll for today and get something done about it. In fact we were both quietly thinking that we would have to abandon the stroll altogether and get a train to Ponte Caffaro and resume strolling in a week or two.  Perhaps it would mean that we should just stop and start again next year. After some very inexpert attention from me the thing seemed to improve and so we were able to carry on.

We carried on strolling but at an apparently slower pace than we have been moving of late.  After an hour or so at this slow pace it turned out that we had actually resumed, more or less, the pace and rhythm that we have developed over these last weeks.

Strolling by the canal is perfect if one is off form as the going tends to be flat. A new long distance cycle way has been built and we were able to use this for much of today

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Footpath, railway and canal side by side

The fascinating thing for me is the mix of rural and industrial landscapes sitting happily side by side as one walks along.

The pictures above and below were taken from virtually the same spot, just 180 degrees apart.

The stroll was enjoyable but uneventful and, on arrival at Eurville, it was the sensible thing to stop, rest  and get the bus to our chambre d’hote in Joinville.

Joinville is a lovely small town. Although I have said it before, we would never have visited lots of the lovely places we have seen on the stroll if it were not for the way we have to travel. These villages and towns are not famous for anything in particular or tourist traps so life just goes on in a normal manner.

Walking up the main street we were met by an enormous cavalcade of motorcycles. Motorcycles of all shapes, sizes and ages. Motorcyclists of all shapes, sizes and ages as well.

Our chambre d’hote at Le Val du Roy is enormous. We were made very welcome and invited to take a beer with our hostess and family in the garden and relax.

The town has a music festival this weekend and the streets started to fill with people as we were going out for supper. A brass band was rehearsing in the church, a rock band was doing a sound check in one of the squares and a French folk group was getting started outside the pizzeria.

Just wandering about listening to live music was a real delight. We have been away from home for about two and a half months now and it has been such a change of lifestyle for us. Moving on regularly. Having very few possessions. The only thing to which I should like to have access is an accordion. One of the French blokes had a  Hohner  2 row wooden melodeon but I resisted the temptation to ask him for a squeeze, in case I cracked and had to get one sent out from the UK.

Very enjoyable day today. The weather has been perfect but after having consumed a glass or two of home made plum brandy I think that a rest is in order.

Having rested I can continue.

Today’s stroll has been a trial for Janet as it looks as though she may have developed a shin splint.

Leaving Eurville