This day is dedicated to my wife Marijke, who passed December 2017.
On the road by 630 am. Left Vezelay and started walking. Started raining so put on my poncho which ripped apart. Not a good start. Stopped raining but left a humidity that was through the roof. Hot as hell too.
I almost came down with heat stroke but for the generosity of a cafe owner who opened his shop to let me cool off. He gave me cold water and food as well. I recovered and pressed on. A few hours later I was again short on water so I went to a house, knocked on the door and two old women, sisters I think, let me in to their modest home, gave me water, two beautiful ripe tomatoes and a bag of plums. Great, and that was the way it has been.
Vezelay? How to describe it. Well, how does one describe perfection! Vezelay is an Abby town situated in the Morvan Bourgogne region of France. Absoultely beautiful. The Abby is at the top of a hill that overlooks unbelievable countryside. As if god is right at home watching his flock. It really is a stairway to heaven. The surrounding landscape is picture perfect, as if sculpted by heaven itself. Every shade of green can be seen on the hills and the valleys. The hills undulate in perfect harmony with the environment. You see meadows and forests, separated by plowed fields that emit a shade of gold, amber, and even bonze. Dazzling colours. Now this may not be Canada, with its wild scenery, robust lnadscape and raging rivers. Nevertheless this countryside is no less spectacular but in a more peaceful sculpted sense. Add to that culture, history and hospitaliy and you have a heavenly recipe. Why would anyone go the Paris when they van visit a regiion like this in France is beyond comprehension. More to come. I can’t wait until tomorrow.