No wealth can buy the requisite leisure, freedom, and independence, which are the capital in this profession. It comes only by the grace of God. It requires a direct dispensation from Heaven to become a walker. You must be born into the family of the Walkers. Ambulator nascitur, non fit.
- Henry David Thoreau, Walking, and the Wild (1851)
I have, so far, had the good luck always to have the company of the family of walkers on the Via Francigena, even this lesser-known and not so commonly frequented portion. As soon as I set off from my not-so-grand lodgings in Seraucourt-le-Grand this morning, I met Elaine coming round the corner from her cabin in the campground. We walked together most of the day. Elaine is very good company, the sort of person who infuses calm wherever she goes, speaking softly, kindly and only when necessary.
When Elaine stopped for a bite to eat in Clastres, I carried on and found myself walking with Guy and Chantal, who seem to like to walk in silence. We let the golden fields of rapeseed (canola or colza) do the talking.
Upon reaching the locks on the canal at Jussy, I stopped to eat my lunch and Elaine caught up with me again. The monotony of walking along the canal was broken up when we encountered the Australians Roy and Sue with the Englishman Patrick, and I carried on with them the rest of the way along the canal past Tergniers into La Fère. We bumped into the Dutch couple who are simultaneously cycling to Rome and walking to Canterbury, by an ingenious system which I explained in yesterday's post; we naturally run into them at some point every day!
I stopped to stock up on groceries at a giant supermarket on the way into the town. Now giant supermarkets are not the best kind when you are tired from walking 30 kilometres, wearing a backpack and carrying walking sticks, and only want to buy small portions of a small number of things. Finding what you want in an unfamiliar supermarket is always a challenge, especially in a foreign country when fatigued from a long walk. I eventually managed to locate what I needed and find my way to my studio flat in the town centre.
Today's accommodations were princely compared to the past couple of days! I had a whole studio flat to myself. Admittedly a small one, but very handsomely decorated and fitted with a vast range of electrical appliances. The flat is in an old storefront, and has a vast number of electrical outlets which presumably were all needed at some time in its history (though three of the essential appliances in the kitchen, toaster, kettle and microwave, shared the same plug, so I had to keep switching them). The appliances provided are all very new and in perfect condition. But how to get them to work? There were no instruction booklets around, and of course things work differently in different countries. I had no trouble getting the washing machine going, with all my clothes in it. Then I ventured to take a shower, my first proper shower in a couple of days given the rustic nature of my previous accommodations. Could I work out how to turn on the water? Not at all. This has happened before, but in shared accommodations, and by pooling our resources both physical and mental, we had always managed to succeed. Here I was on my own. There were two knobs, and I tried pushing, pulling and turning them in various combinations, with no luck. I messaged the owner of the flat and he video-called me to take a look at the taps, which required some careful angling of the camera considering practically all my clothes were in the washing machine! 😄
We didn't succeed in sorting out the problem over the phone, so he sent someone over to look at it, and within two minutes a man in work clothes was knocking on my door. Having managed to cover essential body parts with the only two items of clothing not in the washing machine, I let him in and he showed me how to get the correct combination of knobs. Apparently one of the knobs has a setting that prevents any operation of the shower whatsoever, keeping the water turned off no matter what you do with the other. Now why bother with that?
Once I had succeeded in showering, I began working on turning the groceries I had purchased into dinner. The plan was to cook enough for the next day, too, as I would not be coming across any grocery stores or other sources of food during the day. But in France there are no gas stoves, only electrical induction cookers, and I don't get along very well with these! I pressed all the buttons in different orders; nothing. The display continued to say "Lo", and I wanted "Hi". Eventually I realised that Lo didn't stand for Low but for Locked, and the stovetop had a childproof Locked setting. After pressing buttons in various ways for some time I finally managed to get rid of it, and cooked a delicious dinner of ratatouille with spinach and rice. The rest of the spinach became a salad with hard-boiled eggs and blue cheese. I cooked enough to feed a family of four, ate three portions and packed the remainder away for the following day.
In between these adventures with fittings and appliances, I managed to get out a bit to see La Fère (pop. 2800).
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| La Fère was formerly the home of the Royal Artillery Academy |
The hometown of one of the men who inspired the Three Musketeers, the town seems to have fallen on hard times, with plenty of À Louer (To Let) signs and boarded-up shopfronts. One of these has been converted into my adorable little flat, in which absolutely everything is green, even the microwave (the only appliance I managed to work right away!). Green is a restful colour inspiring peace and serenity - making up for the stress of dealing with giant supermarkets and unfamiliar appliances when on your last legs after a thirty-kilometre day!
Today's accommodations: La Casa Verde, studio apartment in La Fère (found through booking.com)
Seraucourt-le-Grand - La Fère 29.5 km
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