Attraversi il bosco
Tiepido aprile
Consoli da sempre il viandante
Pensieri leggeri
Si uniscono alle resine dei pini
Si fa chiara la mente
Come nuvola
Pensieri leggeri
Si uniscono alle luci e ai colori
Al silenzio, lontano
Delle nuvole
- Franco Battiato, Tiepido Aprile
A beautiful April day walking through the woods, among the wildflowers, under the changeable Spring sky!
But first, let me go back to last night: I left off writing just as my kind hostess, Marilyn, had called me down to join her and her husband Alain for a bowl of soup.
Attempting to sustain a conversation in French for an hour over pumpkin soup, bread and cheese was more exhausting than walking 20 kilometres! But it was a good exercise, my hostess seemed happy to have someone new to talk to, and I learned several interesting facts from her:
1. That the trains in the big freight yard just down the road are taking gravel to Paris for the Olympics (as I mentioned yesterday)
2. That it's particularly windy here because the wind blows across the flat plains of Belgium and first encounters the resistance of hills when it gets here - which is, presumably, why the locality is called ventu
3. That Bienvenue chez les Ch'tis, the comedy about people from this region of France (known as Welcome to the Sticks in English and Benvenuti al Nord in Italy, where it was not only very popular but inspired an Italian remake, called Benvenuti al Sud, complete with sequel Benvenuti al Nord... sorry if this is getting confusing) was not only the biggest-grossing film ever in French cinemas, but was extremely good for tourism in the region, and relaunched the local cheese, le Maroilles.
4. That €4.20 was definitely too much to pay for a cup of coffee, even in France!
Who knows how many other interesting facts she may have mentioned, that I failed to comprehend, with my limited language skills? There was an awkward moment at dinner when I asked whether the rind of the cheese was edible (having been laughed at for eating the rind of cheese when I first moved to Italy, more than 30 years ago), and failed to understand the answer. Marilyn's husband Alain has Parkinson's as well as a Ch'ti accent, and his speech was even more difficult for me to understand than regular French! So I ate my camembert first, and waited to watch what my hosts did with their Maroilles. Turns out the crust is edible, and delicious, too! It has powdery sandy stuff all over, just like sablé de Wissant, a related but milder cheese. For a complete guide to the cheeses of northern France, en français, naturellement, click here!
Once I managed to get away from the dinner table and upstairs to my room, I read a little (in French) and soon fell asleep.
When I came down for breakfast at the agreed time of 7:30, Alain was already at the table and Marilyn had been to the bakery for a fresh baguette and a delicious croissant, served with homemade jam and coffee. An excellent start to the day! I paid my bill, said goodbye and set off down the road and across the fields toward the Forêt de Guînes. Approaching Ferme des Flaquettes, another farm where it is possible to stay, I passed that most bucolic of country sights, a heap of fresh manure steaming in the morning sunshine.
The trail skirted the edge of the forest then plunged right in, zigzagging through the grid of forest trails, muddy in spots but always passable.
On 7 January 1785, French balloonist Jean-Pierre Blanchard and American physician John Jeffries flew from Dover to the edge of Guînes forest in a hot-air balloon. Blanchard Column commemorates the event, on the exact spot where the pair landed. This is Guînes forest's chief claim to fame, and it was supposed to be visible in the distance from the path - but I didn't see it. I was probably too busy looking down and trying to keep my boots out of the mud puddles!
In the forest I crossed paths with another pilgrim, heading in the opposite direction. But when I spoke to her she said she was walking towards Rome... it turned out she had just walked up the road from her accommodation in Guînes and turned the wrong way onto the trail 😁. So I set her right and we proceeded through the forest together for some way. Fiona is from Australia and also started walking in Calais, so it seemed rather odd that we hadn't already met!
After a while Fiona sat down to take a break and I carried on through a lovely stretch of forest carpeted in bluebells and violets.
I emerged from the forest, passed a dairy farm and continued on to the Via Francigena rest area with picnic table across from Gîte du Mât, where I stopped to eat lunch. I wished I had picnicked in the forest instead, as the spot was exposed to the wind and not particularly scenic: located beside a glass recycling bin at an intersection! But I spent some time resting there anyway, and was soon joined by Fiona and, eventually, by my four Canadian friends. We walked together the rest of the way into Licques, happy to descend from the windy ridge into the shelter of the valley.
Licques is a centre of poultry production, particularly turkeys. The town holds an annual turkey festival, "which features a parade of local notables in traditional robes and costumes herding turkeys through the town center, led by the Noble Dames and Knights of the Brotherhood of the Turkey", according to Wikipedia. I didn't see any evidence of this celebration, though we did pass a poultry plant coming into the town, and I saw a few turkeys in the farmyards along the road between the village and the campground.
Our first stop in Licques was the church of Nôtre-Dame, formerly the chapel of a large and influential abbey which was constructed the 11th century and disbanded during the French Revolution, after which it fell into ruin and was torn down, apart from the chapel. It boasts a finely carved pipe organ and a miniature bronze of Saint Peter, toward whose tomb we are, at least ostensibly, walking.
The church had no stamp for our pilgrim credentials, but the Mairie next door had a fine one. That requirement taken care of, we went on to the next most urgent needs on our list: food and lodgings. The Canadians repaired to their airbnb home in the village for the night, Fiona to her campground, and I carried on as far as the other campground, outside the far end of the town.
I took the long way round in order to swing by the supermarket, as all the village shops were closed for lunch break, but it was closed for renovations - and the campground bistrot has not yet opened for the season! 😩 Luckily, I anticipated this kind of problem in France and brought along a few packets of soup mix. And I have a kettle and a microwave in my caravan at Le Canchy campground, which has a simple two-bed caravan available to pilgrims at a special rate.
This little box has everything in it except indoor plumbing - toilets and washing facilities are in a common block across the way, shared with all the other caravans.
Thus ends another day on the Via Francigena in northern France!
Caffiers - Licques (Le Canchy) 24.5 km
Today's accommodations: Camping Le Canchy
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