We returned to see Silvia ‘cause she had the only wifi in town. She also had the only violin that she played in the local symphony orchestra. As we looked around her office she played Puccini’s Gloria which added a delightful background. This area of France contains archeological digs from the fifteenth century, much of which was on display here in the violinist’s office. This town was under siege at the time it was being fought over by the Dutch and the English amongst others. It was thought that the English, in losing that challenge, spread salt over the areas to prevent farming.
This passionate Frenchwoman also was the only person in town very interested in helping to revive this neglected pilgrimage walk. She asked us for suggestions which we gave in abundance, and will take her extensive notes to a large conference on the Via Francigena French route in 2 weeks to use as her input. Concerned at never having walked this journey prior to her attendance, she now feels confident in her newfound knowledge. After a cup of tea with a violin handle, Silvia and Puccini bade us farewell.
The house was all ours and with goodies from the local store across the road, and Alain, we cooked our first meal – tuna, tomato and rocket pasta, and a glass of wine. The ‘goodies place’ also helped us with tomorrow’s lunch, while the boulangerie almost next door made us baguettes and croissants at 7am.
Off again, with aches and pains mostly a memory now, our bodies hopefully recalling their own muscle memories of what they have been capable of. No major roads today, mostly small farming ones where these huge modern tractors use more than the roads width, so it’s a choice between newly planted seeds on one side or established crops on the other.
Walking along a high embankment a few kms from home, I was wondering what it was as there is no irrigation. My book, which I usually criticise for lack of detail informs me that it is an old disused rail line, not much unlike French rail today which I am told is in chaos with rolling strikes becoming the norm (you’ll have to google for more).
No light from above today, but still the cool breeze, which tried to stop us in our long, last push for home.
Our great host who looked after us like his own children, oops, I mean parents, ‘telephoned’ ahead to book us into, yes, we’re back in our favoured loft in an enormous farmhouse dating back to the 1600s … but tastefully renovated to this century. Lovely people who welcomed us with the local Arras beer, and they’re going to cook us dinner as well – life is good.
