Joanne's long walks: Road to Home 2023 Day 39: Champlitte

I think if I could walk through a country I should not only see many things and have adventures that I should otherwise miss, but that I should come into relations with that country at first hand, and with the men and women in it, in a way that would afford the deepest satisfaction. Hence I envy the good fortune of all walkers, and feel like joining myself to every tramp that comes along.

- John Burroughs, The Exhilarations of the Road (1905)

Walking guru Luca Giannotti suggests that when you walk into a village, you should sit on a bench in the village square and wait until someone comes over and strikes up a conversation. Twice today we had interesting encounters that resulted from simply sitting on a bench taking a break!

When driving though a village, you won't meet anyone at all; when cycling, you may perhaps have just enough time to say hello; the same when walking briskly along your way. But if you dawdle, stop to look at things, and say hello to the people you meet, you have more opportunities.

Champlitte treated us well last night. Our hotel room was roomy, comfortable and, best of all, had not just a shower but a proper bathtub! So after meeting Andrew and his friends, quite by chance, and having a beer with them, then meeting Jacques of the European Association of the Vie Francigene for a drink and a bite to eat, I was able to top off the evening with a nice hot soak in the tub! A good night's sleep and a bit of breakfast and we were ready to go.

The first village we walked through was Champlitte-le-Ville, only one kilometre after Champlitte itself. A gradual climb across the fields and the town was soon far behind us.

Arriving in the village of Margilley, we found a bench - not as common as one would like on the Via Francigena - and sat down to watch a minor drama unfolding as an elderly couple failed to start first their weedeater and then their car. Their next-door neighbour came out, smoking a pipe and accompanied by a little dog, to have a go at starting their car for them. He spotted us on the bench across the street and asked us if we would like to come in for a cup of coffee. Thinking that this is exactly the sort of thing our mothers warned us never to do, we followed the man into his workshop.

Philippe is a carpenter, cabinetmaker and violin maker, and he keeps an excellent espresso machine in his workshop! He restores antiques and lives/works in an antique home dating back to the year 1632. He has four little dogs and a cat, all of whom joined us. Over coffee he told us his life story; he had been many things - a soldier, a truck driver, an entrepreneur and a treehouse builder - and had a big house, an expensive car and lots of suits and ties before he got divorced, moved to the country, grew a beard and simplified his life.

Philippe with Jean-Pierre, Ginette and Jazzy

We thanked Philippe for the coffee and left him a can of beer we had bought last night but not drunk - it was too heavy to carry and we thought he might appreciate it, seeing as he had beer bottles both full and empty scattered about his workshop!

We walked on to the next village, Framont, where we sat on a low wall in the sunshine beside the village church to drink some water. A lady appeared in the window of the house beside us and asked if we would like to take a look inside the church. She came out bearing a big iron key about six inches long. "This is the key to paradise!" she announced when I told her she looked like Saint Peter. I meant to take a picture of the key, but she disappeared with it, leaving the church door open for us.

Coming out of Framont, we crossed the Salon River, now much bigger than when we first encountered it yesterday, on an old stone bridge. We crossed fields of wheat and barley, and walked through a wood past what appeared to be an old quarry.

A lunch stop in Montot and then more fields finally brought us to the outskirts of Dampierre-sur-Salon, where we left the Via Francigena to detour into the town and to our accommodations on the far side of the village. Au Bon Vivant started out as a chambres d'hotes but recently added a pilgrim dormitory with five beds. They are all taken tonight, and for the first time we find ourselves sharing a room with other walkers! The two Frenchmen whom we had glimpsed passing by earlier in the day were already sitting in the garden enjoying a cold beer when we arrived; some time later we were joined by Ross, an Englishman I had met three weeks ago in Seraucourt-le-Grand and never seen again until today! Such are the mysterious ways of the Via Francigena!

Our host amused us with a tour of the house and grounds peppered with French humour - imagine a group of tired pilgrims who struggle to understand instructions in French being told that the fishpond is the bathtub and the rose garden is where you go to the toilet, or that if the water is not hot enough all you need do is open the door to the wood-burning boiler and climb right in, the temperature will rise right away! At dinner we were joined at the long table on the veranda by the guests staying in the fancier chambres d'hotes section of the establishment, and all enjoyed a merry meal together.