Italy to Santiago II Part 1: Via Domitia Day 19 Abbaye de Boscodon - Chorges

Comme Ulysse, il est nécessaire parfois d’accomplir le tour du monde et de se perdre en mille folies avant de rejoindre Ithaque.

-David le Breton, Marcher la vie : Un art tranquille du bonheur

Céline and Gérard, my hosts and the custodians at the Abbaye de Boscodon, warned me that there might be hunters in the woods on a Saturday in October, and offered me the use of a bright orange high-visibility vest with reflective stripes on it - the kind road workers use. I told them I wasn't going to walk all the way back up the hill to return it, and they laughed and said that was OK, Gérard had found it at a work site somewhere, but they didn't need it. The vest was big enough to fit over my backpack.

I didn't meet any hunters until three kilometres before Savines-le-Lac, where there were pick-up trucks parked along the gravel road, some of them with warning signs indicating "hunt underway". However the signs were intended to warn drivers of the danger of animals running across the road, trying to escape from hunters; I don't think hunters would have fired their guns close to the road! I certainly didn't hear any shots. The only thing I did hear that worried me was something howling in the forest, high up on the mountainside; but when I got lower down and looked back I could see it in a clearing: just a big white sheepdog. Not a wolf! The dog was howling and running back and forth; perhaps it was looking for a lost lamb, or a puppy?

Just over a kilometre away from Savines-le-Lac the trail left the gravel road and began a steep and somewhat treacherous descent into the town. Here I removed my high-vis vest and stopped at a bakery for a cup of tea and a sugary oatmeal square called a pavé du randonneur, a hiker's square, which seemed appropriate! I would certainly need all that sugar to get me up the hill on the other side of the lake. At this point, the Durance river becomes Lac de Serre Ponçon, an artificial lake created by the Barrage de Serre Ponçon, a dam built on the Durance in 1959. I needed to cross this lake on a highway bridge more than one kilometre long - luckily it had sidewalks, on both sides. I walked on the side facing into the traffic, though this meant I was on the wrong side of the highway at the other end of the bridge and had to cross it. 

The next challenge was a 600-metre climb up to Saint-Apollinaire, the village I could see high up on the mountain slope as I was crossing the bridge, at an elevation of 1300 metres. At the top, I sat on a bench by the church to eat two of the apples from Châteauroux-les-Alpes and the last of the cheese from the dairy in Plan de Phazy, which had been ageing nicely in my backpack for a couple of days! 

Just past the church of Saint-Apollinaire is the home of a sculptor, whose fantastical creations adorn the garden.

The trail climbed a little further, unnecessarily,  I thought, before gradually making its way back downhill and around a corner in the river valley. It was a beautiful trail, mostly soft underfoot, with a few stony and gravel sections; the only steep bit was the final descent into Chorges, or rather, the vicinity therof: the trail twisted and turned through the fields, with fantastic views of the mountains towering above. 

This is a brief account of what was actually a very long day: 27.5 kilometres with a +600-metre elevation gain, and a -900-metre elevation loss. By the time I reached my accommodation in Chorges I was just about ready to collapse. Luckily the grocery store was only 100 metres away, so after showering I went down to get a few vegetables to throw into my pot of lentil soup (I'm still working on that packet of lentil soup mix that I bought three days ago!) and some milk for making overnight oats. I have a whole apartment to myself - a bit of a luxury, but it's all I could find in Chorges! 

Le Grand Rue

Ma maison

Abbaye de Boscodon - Chorges 27.5 km

Italy to Santiago II Part 1: Via Domitia Day 18 Châteauroux-les-Alpes - Abbaye de Boscodon

La Règle de Saint Benoît propose d'habiter le monde ni comme un étranger qui n'est nulle part chez soi, ni comme un propriétaire qui serait purement et simplement chez soi, mais comme UN HÔTE. Etre un hôte, c'est se recevoir des autres, de l' Autre qui est Dieu, et vivre de ce Don.

(The Rule of Saint Benedict suggests that we should live in the world not as a foreigner, who is not at home anywhere, nor as a homeowner, who is simply at home, but as a GUEST. To be a guest is to receive from others, from the Other who is God, and to live by means of this gift.)

- posted at the Abbaye de Boscodon 

I was a guest in Marion and Thomas' home, which smelled of apples, pears and crab apples; they had crates of them stored in the entrance hall where I left my boots and walking sticks. We had freshly pressed apple, pear and crab apple juice with our breakfast, and homemade apple, pear and crab apple compôte on our toast. The scent stayed with me as I climbed out of the village and up the mountain slope, passing among the fruit trees, some carefully cultivated and others abandoned. My hosts had given me three apples to take with me, and I refused their offer of pears as well, because of the weight; but when I found them on the grass beside the road, I couldn't help picking up a couple of small but perfectly formed pears - a pair of pears - and tucking them into my waist pack. It seemed such a shame to let them lie there... though the road was dotted all over with smashed pears! 

I walked up the hill behind Châteauroux-les-Alpes to the chapel of Saint Roch, patron saint of pilgrims. The trail continued along country roads high up on the hillside before descending steeply into the town of Embrun. 

It's possible to bypass Embrun and save two kilometres, but Thomas had advised me that it was well worth going into the town to see the cathedral. And indeed it was! Embrun, population 6400, is a pretty town with plenty of bakeries, cafés and other businesses, as well as a beautiful cathedral. 

In the fourth century, when Embrun was the capital of the Roman province of Alpes Maritimae, Saint Marcellin established the Bishopric of Embrun, which later became an Archbishopric and remained so until the French revolution. Due to the city's location on the Via Domitia road over the Alps, master masons were brought in from northern Italy to build the cathedral, between the years 1170 and 1225, and it is more Italian than French in style. 

Beside the cathedral is a park with a sweeping view over the Durance valley - which I had been seeing from higher up on my way into the town, and into which I now descended. Embrun is perched atop a cliff over the river, so it was a steep descent! I crossed the Durance on a road bridge, walked through a district of supermarkets, shopping centres and gas stations clustered along the highway, then headed up into the hills on the left bank of the river. By the time I got to the village of Baratier, I was ready for lunch, and I found the perfect spot: right beside the church is the Parc des Clôsures, with a fountain, picnic tables, benches and even a lounge bed in the sun!

After demolishing a mini-quiche and a large chocolate brownie from the bakery in Embrun and the two pears found by the roadside, it was an easy walk as far as the village of Crots.

But then came the hard part: a six-kilometre climb through forests and pastures to the Abbaye de Boscodon, at an elevation of 1150 metres (Embrun is around 800 metres). A long, hard climb is just what you need at the end of a day’s walk! The trail twisted and turned through the forest, passed through the tiny farming community of Beauvillard, which seemed to be inhabited primarily by kittens, and then went back into the trees: still no sign of the abbey. You can't see it until you come right upon it! And what a relief that was. Isabelle at the gift shop stamped my credential and made sure I knew where and how to find the pilgrim dormitory. It's on the top floor of the east wing of the monastery, where there are also a number of somewhat less spartan guest rooms available; next door there is a commercially operated guesthouse and restaurant, which seemed however to be closed at this time of year. I believe they also have a pilgrim dormitory, and I had written to enquire about it, but got no reply. 

I am in this building 

In any case, I have the pilgrim dormitory at the abbey all to myself, and it is a very special place. Not many pilgrims stop by here - Céline, who is in charge of receiving guests, told me she had only hosted 18 pilgrims in the year since she came to live here. She and her husband Gérard, who is a native of the nearby village, came to live here as caretakers when the last member of the religious community left the monastery a year ago. It is now run as a tourist attraction, museum, cultural centre and art gallery, with accommodation available for pilgrims and anyone wishing to spend a quiet time in this remote location. Céline told me she used to be a nun (before she met Gerard, presumably) and laughed as she said it was appropriate that she had ended up living in a monastery anyway! 

As the only guest of the monastery, I accompanied Céline, Gérard and their dog in their evening ritual of locking up the church. We passed through a secret inner passageway and sat for a few moments in the darkness of the church, with only the Christ figure above the altar illuminated. As they pointed out to me, this modern sculpture is not a crucifixion but a Christ with his arms extended in an embrace. I told them as best I could in my broken French that this figure is similar to the symbol of Accoglienza Pellegrina / Hospitaleros Voluntarios, the volunteer association to which I belong. 

Construction of the Abbaye de Nôtre Dâme de Boscodon began in 1142. After many centuries as a Benedictine monastery, it was nationalised during the French revolution and then sold off; a village grew around the church building, which was used as a stable, with homes and apartments built inside and around it. The inhabitants moved elsewhere in the 20th century, and the church was abandoned to decay until 1972, when an association was formed to preserve and reconstruct it; the work took forty years to complete.

For more information on this unique place, see the official web site at this link. 

Beer, nuts, mushroom soup and toast for dinner

Châteauroux-les-Alpes - Abbaye de Boscodon 24 km