Marching Into Reims

As it turned out, the march to Rheims was nothing but a holiday excursion:…’. So wrote Mark Twain of Joan of Arc’s march into Reims, a bit unlikely as Joan was marching at the head several thousand armed men in July 1429.

The line does, however, describe entirely accurately our leisurely walk out of the Hauts-de-France region into Reims, at the heart of the Champagne district’s (more correctly in current official parlance, the Marne Department of the Grand Est Province) and the 12th largest city in France. It is also the largest city we traverse on our entire 1200 km hike on GR 145 from England, through France and Switzerland.

Black Madonna, Laon

Laon’s grand Cathedral waves the the modern pilgrim off with images of some ‘kickass women’ including Saint Teresa of Calcutta (better known as Mother Teresa) and a Black Madonna.

Black Madonna have colourful histories (puns not intended). They were often seen by medieval populations as immensely powerful, and of course, like all representations of female power, highly suspect. Laon’s original Black Madonna was destroyed in the French revolution. The current version, a relatively placid looking figure, was installed as far as I can tell, in the mid-19th century.

Just outside the Laon city walls, you can tumble down through narrow back alleys, between houses. Do you remember how it felt to run down a slippery slide when you were at primary school – rather than sit and slide like the good kids? Well that’s how it felt, except that as Leonard Cohen puts it, these days ‘I ache in the places I used to play’.

Knees notwithstanding, the sliding reduced the distance to Corbeny (our final stage in Hauts-de-France) by nearly 3 kms, to a more manageable 27 km, though we probably missed some stunning views reported by walkers who take the prescribed route out from Laon.

Chemin du Roi

A tedious 6 km on the edge of a road, then a long straight Chemin du Roi (King’s Road) through woods, and another tedious climb on a sealed road brought us to Corbeny and a perfect pilgrim accommodation, on Rue de Dames – a road built to facilitate women travelling for assignations with kings.

Champagne – vineyard

Following morning, we crossed River Ainse and entered the Champagne district.

It might be more apt to say that Champagne slowly dawned on us. First, a welcoming little epicerie in the tiny town of Cormicy, open just at the right time. And minutes later our first view of the acres and acres of grape vines.

The dappled champagne light

Two more days of walking between vineyards, forests and along canals brought us to Reims.

Sunny Saturday in the buzzing city of Reims

After nearly a month of mostly tiny towns and villages, it was exciting to be in a great city built around opulent squares, historic buildings and brimming wth tourist attractions. So we took a day off walking, hoping to indulge in some cultural tourism.

But, but but… it is Sunday, it is rainy, and as Monday is VE Day National Holiday in France, almost everyone has shut shop and gone off for a long weekend to Greece 🙄 Yes, the excellent English speaking staff of the expensive hotel might just be able to find a Champagne tour which though exorbitant includes several complimentary bottles of the stuff… but stop! Walking Buddy is a teetotaller. Estimates of how much champagne one person can drink in a day or carry in her rucksack the next morning were not promising.

Reims city square

Reims, and indeed the region more broadly has much to attract the tourist generally and the walker specifically. But May might not be the best month to walk in any part of France. For the record, there are 14 days of prescribed national holidays in France, including the Christmas and New Year period. The remainder of the year has 11 National Days, of which 4 are in May. Every weekend in May is thus a long weekend and most things, including most eateries, are closed.

Chagall windows

Sunday, 7 May, there is nothing to do, but ponder on the famous UNESCO world-heritage listed Cathedral Notre Dame of Reims, where the Kings of France used to be crowned and whose biggest current tourist attraction seems to be the stained glass window designed by artist Marc Chagall.

The most famous name associated with this Cathedral is however Joan of Arc, who saved Reims from being razed by the English army.

A statue (from the 1850s) of a young woman on a horse, her sword unsheathed, graces the front of the cathedral. Her eyes are wide open, and I imagine, blazing.

Joan of Arc, Reims: Girl Power?

Joan was tried and burnt for heresy, aged 19. The key evidence against her was that she dressed in male clothes!! At her captors’ insistence she agreed to wear what the church regarded as proper women’s clothing. But later the judges visiting her cell found her again in her habitual soldiering gear. When challenged, she supposedly told them “It is both more seemly and proper to dress like this when surrounded by men, than wearing a woman’s clothes.”

Inside the Reims Cathedral, the 1902 marble and bronze figure of Joan is clearly in female clothing. She has been ‘frocked,’ she has been muted. In sainthood, she has been denied her choice of clothing. The up-turned eyes of the girl on the horse are now closed in surrender.

The young village girl who was cross-dressing and slaying bad guys long before Buffy the Vampire Slayer was imagined, who should have been the Patron Saint of Girl Power, has been re-cast as good little Saint Joan to be accommodated inside the constraints of the Catholic Church.

Saint Joan

On a day with little to do, Reims is a good place to think about how a defiant girl might be disciplined, punished and beatified – all to put her in her place as a woman.

A Mothers’ Day post about defiant women one meets on the VF

300 kms: Long Way to Walk for Foie Gras?

Foie Gras in Laon, WB has already eaten his share!

If you have been to Paris or travelled in the many tourist destinations around France, you probably would not believe that there are culinary deserts in some parts of this country, where you might be grateful at the end of a 20 km hike, for the micro-wave ready curry (which has been slowly defrosting in your ruck-sack all day); because a few nights before, dinner was boiled egg and bread kindly provided by your rural gîte host..

Some of the tiny settlements along the path we have been walking through Hauts-de-France have no shops of any description. Even in middle sized towns, like Tergnier, which you reach across vast railway yards and streets lined with blocks of flats, eateries are an unenticing string of pizzeria and friterie along a busy highway.

Railway tracks around Tergnier

In smaller places you can have the strangest conversations with Google’s translation services. Here I quote the end of an sms exchange between Walking Buddy and very kind Air B&B Host at Bertaucourt (village of maybe two dozen houses, a little off the VF track):

Host: No food here. No shop.

WB: Can you perhaps leave some bread and cheese in the house?

Host: Because I already went to the races yesterday. Cannot go today. (WB can find no adequate way to respond to that)

Even in the more touristy places, like Arras, with its historic churches and city squares, the daily rhythm of the walker is often out of kilter with that of cafes and restaurants. Walkers often want their breakfast unseasonably early and dinner unfashionably so. And when they walk into town in mid-afternoon every reasonable cafe owner is having a little break between the lunch and dinner crowds.

Arras town square

That said, it does appear that there is a little bit of a problem with food in Pas-de-Calais, the westernmost province (department) of the Hauts-de-France region, where the first quarter of the French VF lies.

At the tourist office in Arras. I asked the lovely young woman with fluent English, what we should sample as local food. ‘Hmmm’, she said, and ‘aahhh’ after much metaphoric hand-ringing. She comes from an area further to the south and clearly does not want to say anything negative. Eventually she says ‘well, this area has a lot of chips and also some local beers.’

We have been walking between potato and canola farms for two weeks or more and some super-markets in this area stock more varieties of potatoes than pretty much all green vegetables put together. For environmental reasons one should indeed eat locally grown foods, so chips make good sense. And, way back when, this area was ruled by the English for over 200 years. And that is all I am saying about food in Pas-de-Calais Department of Haute de France.

Gateway to Laon, Aisne department in Hauts-de-France

We had walked a little over 300 kms from Canterbury when we panted up the final 100 metre ascent into the medieval walled city of Laon. The Cathedral was built to strike awe and from the top of the town the surrounding plane is astonishingly lovely. It is, however, May Day and 3 p.m – only fools and foreigners would want to eat at this hour. Fortunately, the gourmet eatery, just across the Cathedral square will open at 7 and yes they can fit us in!

Cathedral Notre Dame: with dinner over a long May sunset

Really, one should walk a long way before eating Foie Gras – there are 462 calories in every hundred grams of the stuff and then there is the burden of sin from eating food with a dubious history of animal cruelty which demands additional self-flagellation.

The chicken mousse amuse-bouche goes before I can take my camera out. Followed by Fois Gras which WB has been praying for since we landed in Calais off a stormy sea. Then the ‘local speciality’ ‘rabbit sausage’ for WB and ‘pour Madame?’ They can recommend the dish always popular with English tourists, ‘duke with o-hwr-aange’.

Half-eaten, so you can’t see how pretty it all looked!

As April turns to May, the ground underfoot is firmer. With days so long, it is less daunting to take on longer distances.

The topography is changing too. Past Peronne on the north-east corner of Department Somme, the surroundings have mellowed, with rivers and canals criss-crossing the way, some of which runs through pretty parklands. Sunday in mid-spring has brought fishermen out in droves, and yes, they are ALL men – with fishing rods longer than I ever imagined!

Walking into Laon was an up and down affair, with hillocks rounding out the harsh flat horizon we have been chasing for the previous 250 kms since Wissant. The foie gras has soothed the hungry spirit, and no doubt given us wings to take on our first 30km day tomorrow.

WB’s French is improving by leaps and bounds: he has stopped introducing me as his Mary or Mairie or Mari in turn. But I still cannot tell the difference between ferme and a ferm, which is a bit problematic when trying to book accommodation, when the only place within a cooee (in Australian parlance) is a farm gite, firmly shut since COVID killed off the trickle of tourists passing through the village…

NB: the title of this blog is inspired by Brian Mooney’s book about the Via Francigena, A long way to walk for a Pizza