Paris

Paris!  A grand city. I got a real feel for it as I negotiated my way through the streets from St Denis.  There were people everywhere, and with the help of good old google maps I made it straight to the hotel, late (9.30pm) and very weary, having tramped along tarmac for most of the day.  I had a hotel in the Montmartre district and spent the first day wandering around doing chores and sightseeing in the process.  

The first chore was the washing which was easy as there was a laundromat just around the corner.  My next chore was a little more difficult and in fact I never resolved it.  That was to try and sort out my technology problems.  No one could help me at the stores I went to, and since then it seems to have fixed itself, so here's hoping it stays that way.

My third chore was to find a guide book to get me to the city of Tours, which I found, but via Chartres, which I never did find.  However as I wandered from place to place, store to store I saw many interesting things.

The final chore was to buy some sandals and a summer weight skirt.  Again, no success until I decided to stay an extra day because I was so late leaving.  I stopped at a cafe to have some breakfast and use the WiFi to find a hotel on the other side of the Seine.  Here I had an interesting diversion chatting to a woman from Abu Dhabi.  A brave woman as she was waiting for the birth of her twins any day, and she was doing some final homework on her verbal PhD thesis presentation.  She was hoping that nerves didn't bring on the birth during her exam!

I stayed that night on the edge of Montparnasse and wished that's where I'd stayed the whole time.  I also had success with the clothes I was looking for as I found an amazing camping shop.  I actually went there in the hope that I would pick up the elusive guide book but no luck.  This camping shop was not one, but many small shops and I kept being re-directed down or up the street or around the corner on the right or left!  

On my second day in Paris I visited a couple of monuments and took a boat trip on the Seine.  I went to Notre Dame, and decided that I really didn't want to see inside that much because the queue's stretched across the square, but later in the day when I was passing the queue's had gone and I went straight in.

Out of curiosity I measured how far I walked on my rest days in Paris and each day I walked just shy of 20kms.  At least it was without a pack!

Enough words from me.  I'll let the pictures tell the tale.

The Cité des Sciences is a place of color, interesting play spaces for young and old, and full of life.

Opposite my bedroom, on the fifth floor, it was moving day (above and below).

Galleries Lafayette is not just one shopping store, but a number, linked.  This was the sight inside one of the buildings.

The Conciergerie (above and below) is one of the important buildings in Paris. It was initially part of the Royal Palace, then housed the prison.  It was here that Marie Antoinette was imprisoned and met her execution.

Also part of this former grand Royal Palace is the extraordinary gothic building called La Sainte-Chapelle, built by Louis IX.  The stained glass windows in this building are wonderful.

The exterior of La a Sainte- Chapelle

My first sight of the monumental Eiffel tower (above), and below the view from the Seine.

Notre- Dame de Paris.

The Louvre and its pyramid in the setting sun.

Soaking up the Paris sunshine.

The Hôtel de Ville.

From the Seine a view of Tour St-Jacques, all that remains of the church of St-Jacques (James).

St Jacques, atop the tower.

Saint Quentin, to Compiegne, and onto Paris.

I have already told you how I stayed with Sylvie and her family in Belgium.  Not only did she loan me her guide books for the rest of the path through Belgium, but I downloaded two other guides from her website for the journey from Saint- Quentin to Paris which made life very easy.

The tourist office in Saint Quentin, as helpful in 2015 as they were in 2011, helped me find accommodation for the first night after leaving town.  This was in a special pilgrim friendly place, though I don't think it was called a refuge, it certainly had a peaceful feel about it.  Getting there I had to use my navigation skills, as I have had to on most days into Paris.  I occasionally saw signs, and then they dissapeared for hours.  However, apart from one minor unintended detour of a couple of kilometers I eventually made it to my night's rest spot in the village of Tugny-et-Pont.

 The Saint Quentin canal, the only part of this journey I have walked before, though in 2011 I actually walked along the road on the other side.  This was much more pleasant.

 The brown critter and I took a mutual dislike to each other!  It began when he came up behind and head butted me.  Every time I turned my back on him he would start chasing me, and I had to walk backwards each time I went outside.  I resorted to shouting "no" to it, which was such a surprise it stopped in its tracks!  I'm glad no-one else was there!

 My brown friend was out of sight and so I could take this peaceful scene from near my "bungalow" at Ms Noblesse's on the outskirts of  Tugny-et-Pont.

 Ms Noblesse had references to St Jacques everywhere including this statue in front of what was the old mill.  The river is the Somme.

 After leaving Tugny-le-Pont I had to navigate my way on roads like this leading across fields. At one point I missed a turn, but managed to find my way back without having to retrace my steps.

This splendid gateway led to a cropped field.  No road, or house to be seen!

 The pollarded trees have yet to get their leaves.  A lovely place for shelter from the hot sun in a month or so.

The path led to the town of Noyon with a grand cathedral.  I ended up staying in a hotel right opposite the Cathedral, but it was Sunday, and as usual little was open.  I resorted to a takeaway pizza for dinner which I had in my room.  Sundays in France can be a bit scary as very little is open.  I persuaded Ms Noblesse to book a room for me before I left that morning so that at least I knew I had a bed.  It is warming up, but still a bit too cold to risk sleeping outside!

 A fresco inside the cathedral in Noyon, and the interior of the cathedral (below).

 Noyon cathedral and war memorial.

 John Calvin the protestant theologian whose teachinga played a part in the reformation was born here in Noyon.

After the canals in the UK, the canals in France come as a surprise.  They are so wide by comparison, and as on the rivers in Holland and Belgium, the barges traveling them move with considerably more speed.  I could easily walk faster than the barges in the UK, but here, even running I doubt I would get ahead of them.  The waves created as they pass can be heard sloshing against the canal sides for many minutes after they have gone.

Heading under the bridge and along the canal.  The red and white GR sign is on the pillar on the left.

This is not a wall, but barges lined up end to end at the side of the canal.

The path followed along the grassy banks of the canal towards Compiegne.

 The Mairie in Compiegne, with its fancy bell tower.......

......and the three little men who strike the bells every quarter hour!  Note the diminishing sizes - the pitch was "mi, re, doh" - or "hot cross buns"!

The pilgim refuge, under the church, in Compiegne was a wonderful place - beds, not bunks, complete with a well equipped kitchen (not that I used it), and most importantly a warm welcome with lots of advice for the days to come.

From Compiegne there were only a few days into Paris.  A lot of that time was spent walking through forest, and indeed I have been really surprised at how much forest there is.  On that first day out of Compiegne the path led, in a straight line, for 12.5kms through forest, and that doesn't include the forests on the other side of the city and the forest to come.  Even on the last day when walking into Paris there were several kilometers of forest before reaching the suburbs.

The forests are laid out, as they have been the whole way through Belgium and France, in a very symmetrical pattern.  Leaving Compiegne on the 12.5 kms of forest tracks many of the signposts were set on a plinth.  A real bonus because the provided a seat to sit and rest on!

At the edge of the forest after leaving Compiegne there were some roman ruins.  A temple, a thêatre, and a thermes.  I took some time wandering around before heading off across the fields to my Chambre d'Hôte in the village of Orrouy.  Madame was very kind and packed a picnic lunch for me the next morning as there were no shops until Senlis, my destination for the day.  This day only had a tiny bit of forest, most of the day being taken up with walking on a roman road straight through fields, with little shelter from sun or wind, neither of which were too bad, fortunately.

A forest sign, and my lunch rest spot!

Looking towards the thêatre from the thermes (bath house) at the roman ruins, not far from Orrouy.

The shell sign was somewhat infrequent, and has been white, rather than yellow. This is the exit from the village of Béthisy Saint-Martin, the last patch of forest before reaching the 10kms of roman road.

These vines have been espaliered against the wall, presumably to make use of the warmth of the stone.

The fields have been poughed and the irrigation is ready to roll.  The road continued straight just like this for 10kms!

Shopping time in Senlis.

Senlis Cathedral.

The sun is not far off setting and I still have over 4kms to go before reaching the night's destination in le Mesnil Aubry.  Heading towards the village of Fontenay en Parisis, and the flight path!

At some stage the path has to cross the things needed for a big city, things like busy motor ways, high speed train lines, and in this case under the power lines.

The forest at Sarcelles, the last forest to walk through before hitting suburban Paris.  Note how green this forest has become compared to the one at Compiegne, only a few days earlier.

Reflections from the stained glass windows in the beautiful Basilica at Saint Denis, on the way into Paris.

Heading into Paris the path took me past the football stadium, looking like a giant space ship, and along the canal.

People walked and cycled along the canal, and further along they picnicked in their droves and played skittles and pétanque.  For a while it was quite an obstacle course!

This is  working canal though, and here the cement trucks are lined up.

The way led through the science park, with people walking, skating, cycling, chatting and playing on the many things to entertain, but more of that later.

Walking into Paris was more pleasant than I expected.  It was a very long day though and I eventually reached my hotel at 9.30pm!  Because it was such a mild evening people had come out to enjoy themselves.  There was hardly an inch of space along the canal.  I walked between the picnickers who sat on the edge of the canal with bottles of wine and little snacks and then the teams of pétanque players on the other side, and on the other side of them, the cyclists. Pétanque is a game played by all.   I have seen the older men playing in the villages, but this night it was the young people who were playing, in their dozens.  Sprinkled amongst them were teams of skittle players.  These skittles are not like I am used to but rather shaped like a piece of giant dowell with an end cut off at an angle, and rather than rolling a ball to knock them over another type of skittle is thrown at them.

My technology problem seems to have resolved itself for the time being so have now put photos on the previous posts.  I just hope it remains sorted.  More about Paris, and beyond, next time.

Paris - in the springtime

Yesterday I watched the Paris Marathon. I watched it, on and off, for about two hours and still they were passing - over 41,000 of them!

Just some of the 41,000.  Note the Eifell tower between the lampost and the tees!

I watched near the 27km mark, before wandering along the Champs-Élysées, traffic free for some of the day. There were young (ish) runners, older runners, and some that looked as if they could only be labelled as old! They wore a variety of fluro colored shirts and some wore trendy bottoms - others just daggy shorts and even a few with no shirts. Some ran in jeans or track pants. I don't know how they managed it as I was feeling warm, and I was standing still!

Along some of the Champs-Élysées.

There were all shades of colored hair - curly, straight, long and short, many grey haired and a lot with no hair! Some were skinny, others carried a bit of weight. There were those that stopped every so often and walked to give themselves a breather.

The crowds were very supportive, cheering and applauding as runners passed, some had musical instruments, with one group of fans banging on drums for hours. A young lass had a megaphone to cheer all and sundry. Somehow in this tremendous crowd of supporters individuals managed to spot their special runner amongst the thousands and ran alongside for a few hundred meters.   I saw one young bloke roller skating next to his lady for a several hundred meters.

The fire brigade cheered and held hoses, spraying jets of water across the race to cool down the runners. The young guys took it in turns holding the hoses - it's hard work holding a heavy fire hose steady for so many hours.  

The fire brigade in the background were loudly cheering.

At one point I thought that I might have to practice my first aid at the very least, or even CPR!   A man who was really obviously struggling stumbled a few meters before reaching me. He continued stumbling, grinding to a halt in front of me, leaning towards me, about to fall.  I held out my arms ready to catch him, though I think he would have brought both of us down if he had done so, as he was a big bloke and at least six inches taller than me.  Somehow he found the strength to stay upright and continued to shuffle along the road. I hope he made ​​it safely - he was actually in the three and half hour estimated finishers (runners start according to the time they think they will finish).

Some hours later, after I had eaten lunch and done some sightseeing, I could still see stragglers running along the banks of the Seine. A motley lot of musicians struck up each time one of these weary runners passed, cheering them on their way.

This was an event I was fortunate to witness in the bright spring sunshine, as Paris wore a dress of pale green, with leaves on the trees starting to shoot. A multitude of colored jewels in the form of red and pink tulips, yellow daffodils, hyacinth and pink and blue's decorated her feet.  Indeed a lovely day.

I still have not got around to telling you how I got here. That will have to wait for the next post. I have tried to make my words tell the pictures I am still unable to show you.

To Saint Quentin on the Via Thierache

It has just occurred to me that I haven't posted for ages and you're probably wondering where and how I'm going.  I am very close to Paris, but that can wait till the next post because I need to tell you about where I have been.  Added to that there will be no photos on this post until I can talk to someone younger who can help me sort out an equipment problem.  Will try and add them soon.

Sadly, the last day in Belgium was my worst.  In fact it was the worst, weather wise, of the whole trip so far.  It drizzled as I left in the morning and got steadily heavier as the day wore on.  This, coupled with very strong winds, meant that I was unable to take many photos, couldn't read the guide book without it getting drenched, and because my head was down most of the day I didn't see much of the beautiful forest I was walking through.  By the time I arrived at my Chambre d'Hôte in St Michel I was drenched through.  The only dry bit of me was a strip of my trousers on the back of my calves!  Fortunately though I was warm enough because of all the merino layers I was wearing.  It was an effort to get to my room in a small château as Madame stood over me while I stripped off all my outer rain gear and my shoes and socks.  In my room I put my pack on the bath mat which soon became sodden, though its contents were dry fortunately.

 I rested in the porch of this little chapel.

At the only other sheltered rest spot, a derelict shack, I had a view of hundreds of wild daffodils.

Interestingly, the next day at the next Chambre d'Hôte I met a Belgium man who had walked from Brussels.  He too had an awful day the day before and had asked to stay an extra night to recover.  On the other hand, I decided I was OK and set off.  Trouble was, I wasn't - OK, I mean, and walking to the abbey at St Michel I had to stop and rest every 200 metres.  At this point I decided it was time to turn around and catch a bus (I had already reserved a room for the night and don't have the language skills to cancel it, hence my forward progress).  The problem was that there was no bus.  The path followed an old train line and was very pleasant and easy and so I slowly made my way along it, resting frequently, until I thought I was close enough to walk out to the road and hitch.

The beautiful abbey at Saint-Michel.

The path along the old train line made for easy walking fortunately.

The path went past old stations, now converted into dwellings.

At the village of Wimy I saw an amazing church (closed) with two castle like towers at the front, and as I moved through the Thierache, the region I was in, I was to find out more about this and other such churches.  The man who gave me the most information was the one who gave me a lift from the edge of the village.  I was a bit gob smacked when he informed me that he had been to Adelaide, liked it better than Sydney, and that we have a very good museum and that he liked our old buildings - he lived in a region with buildings from the middle ages!

Now to return to these fortified churches, for that is what they are called, and there are over 60 in the region.  This part of the world was more or less sandwiched between the armies of France (yes I know it is in France now, but presumably it was different then) and the armies of Austria and Spain whose kings had formed an alliance.  There were no castles which could protect the people and so the people of the villages banded together and fortified the largest and strongest building in the village - the church - congregating in their safety when the armies were on the march.  Hence in almost every village in the region there is a grand castle like church.

 This is not actually a church, but the tourist office in Saint-Michel.  It is very near the abbey and has a tower too.

 The first of the fortified churches I saw, in the village of Wimy, and below, more fortified churches.

The following day I followed the old train track again all the way to the town of Guise, where arriving early, I spent a delightful couple of hours with Mark, a young Frenchman who, like me, couldn't get into the hotel - because no one was there till 6.00 pm.

On this journey I haven't retraced my steps, on previous pilgrimages, until now.  My destination the next day was Saint Quentin, a town I had spent a week in trying to recover from tendonitis while walking the Via Francigena.  I actually planned to stay here for three nights to do chores such as washing, but also to make sure I had a bed over Easter.  As an Australian you can imagine my surprise to discover that Good Friday was just a normal day - children went to school, the bakeries were open, and the tourist office and shops were open all day.  I loved my stay here as much as I did in 2011 and made numerous trips into the square to hear the very lovely Carillon on the Marie (town hall).

The Mairie in St-Quentin.

 The Basilica in St Quentin has had a tough time over the years with havoc been wreaked on it during the wars.  The photo above shows the cracks in the stone work and some of the repairs.  It stood roofless for many years. 

The Basilica interior, with the beautiful labyrinth and the exterior (below).

There is one photo that I missed out on.  On my last day in Belgium I crossed the River Oise, a small stream that, were it not swollen from the rain, I could almost have jumped across.  I went to take a photo of it but couldn't because of a flat battery and it was too wet to dig out the spare.  It would have been interesting to compare this little stream to the mighty river that has carved out the broad valley I have basically been following over the past week.

When I get the technology sorted I will add some photos, and will do a post shortly of this last leg into Paris.