An excerpt for my latest story about the Camino – The French Camino – Vezelay. I haven’t got a title as yet but I am leaning toward: “Camino de Vezelay: My Existential Journey.” What do you think?
“I walked fifteen kilometres today of which twelve were uphill, including the two-and-a-half-kilometre uphill climb coming into St Leonard de Noblat itself. Nevertheless, the countryside was gorgeous. Despite the never-ending hills, I was beside myself with joy. There were rolling hills and farmer’s fields that appeared golden brown in the early morning sunlight. The shallow valleys and checkerboard squares of green and fallowed fields, or the awakening splendor of a thousand sunflowers, and the bright yellow fields of rapeseed or canola flooded my senses.
On my way to St Leonard, I passed though several small villages and hamlets that separated these different fields of grain. One town, named Le Chatenet en Dognon, had an interesting house on its main street. Architecturally it resembled Canada House on Juno Beach, Normandy. That was the famous house that was captured on film as the Canadian Queen’s Own Rifles landed on D-Day to begin the arduous and dangerous liberation of France during World War Two. Interestingly, that house was the very first property in France to be liberated by the allies. And here it was in Chatenet en Dognon, an exact replica.
How can one explain the medieval tone of St Leonard de Noblat. Picture yourself sitting on a café terrace having a grand café au lait in a town’s square that is surrounded by buildings and structures that go back to 1200 CE, with a church even older than that. Visualize narrow cobblestone streets that harbor an array of shops, bakeries, and patisseries. Smell the aura of scents that are innumerable. Imagine the women of the town shopping and vying for bargains as the men chat and smoke and curse one another but laughing as well as they go about their morning rounds. Envision that and you would find yourself in the center of St Leonard de Noblat, a medieval town restored in all its medieval glory and patina. A town that was named after a sixth century hermit who lived in a dark forest during the dark ages. An individual who was canonized even though he was hermit. Tell me, how does one achieve sainthood in those circumstances?
Despite being old St Leonard de Noblat was a lively place. It was one of the few places that I have come across thus far during this Camino that showed some form of life. Yet the problem for a hiker like me to be able to take in and enjoy this scene as a welcome respite in the day’s grind was the requirement to climb a two-and-a-half-kilometre ascent from the countryside to the town center. “Closer to God than thee” – so the saying goes. If only I had me a donkey as St Leonard in all probability had.
I sat in the main square enjoying that coffee grande and a chocolate filled croissant and enjoying the scene that unfolded around me. It was a beautiful day with not a cloud in the sky. At long last the temperature was comfortable with little humidity. I had time to kill and enjoy a respite from the daily grind as the Tourist Office that controlled the access to the municipal Gite here would not open until noon. So be it. I was happy and content except for the constant pestering of the yellowjackets that were attracted to the sweetness of the croissant. And just like home at this time of year, August, I found myself swatting, brushing and cursing the onslaught of these bees while trying to enjoy my repose. This was a major irritant for me on what was an otherwise a faultless morning.[1] Mon Dieu.
[1] They call these bees “bays” in France.
Love these old rock n roll tunes. Remember Johnny Rivers? The 60s? 1960s that is.
Simple classic rock! Those were the days my friend.
Read ya later.