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So after 1150km, 3 months, 1 walking partner and countless blisters I have made it to Lyon, probably the first big milestone on my journey geographically. I got a bee in my bonnet to get here after I left Paris and pushed on with the kms. The stomping has taken it's toll in the last few days though and I have arrived with new pain in my back and knees. Hopefully nothing a rest won't iron out.
My last couple of weeks on the river Loire covered quite a distance and took in places including Beaulieu, Sancerre, Nevers and Decize before I finally said goodbye to it at Digoin. I continued to encounter beavers, river rats and saw my first migratory white cranes; they were nesting on a church roof in the middle of town. Unortunately there were a few corpses in the river too (animal not human), but they were strange bloated floating forms with scraggly fur waving in the currants. I also saw my first snake, but thankfully it was dead by the roadside with some guts pecked out by birds. Nice! Along my way I was hosted by a school bus driver who has bought and is restoring a 1970's Leyland double-decker bus, spent some of easter with a lovely family who live above an old town castle tunnel network and was treated to a jet spa bath by a host who had worked on films made in both Cornwall and Aylesbury! Who would make a film near Aylesbury!?
Another chance encounter led to my first flirtations with the French media. As I was plodding down the hill towards Digoin, I was passed by a guy cycling up it. He wished me "bonne route" and followed with "tu va jusqu'á oú?". When I casually replied "Istanbul" he literally threw his bike to the roadside and headed towards me with a notebook being drawn from his bag. He was a journalist from the local paper and took a photo and interviewed me on the roadside. There is a link to the article on the blog, which was published the following Sunday!
Heading away from the Loire I encountered some hills for the first time since Cornwall. It was a lovely change of scenery but definitely a shock to the system and legs! The sandy river banks were replaced by green fields, red-roof-topped hillside habitations and patches of pine forest. It was a subtle change at first but by the time I was huffing and puffing my way upto to the village of Montmelard and Mont St-Cry (at 700m) I could see bands of rolling hills and mounts stretched out before me. I started to get excited and nervous about the upcoming Alps.
The weather was getting worse too, gone was the heatwave, instead bands of rain and cold were moving through. One Sunday was so grim that I happily accepted my hosts offer to stay another night and sit out the cold, grey, torrential rain that fell all day. Instead I enjoyed losing at cards, winning at ping-pong and a film on the sofa with a duvet. Plus chatting about French football and mountain honey production of course! (he was a beekeeper and his sons avid football fans). I set off again the following day with the weather meant to improve, but by the afternoon I was walking through a blizzard of sleet over a Col on my way to Beaujeu.
However, I did meet my first fellow female solo long distance traveller whilst I was having lunch in a bus stop! She was following the Santiago Di Compstella from her home in Germany. After 700km on foot she switched to bicycle in Dijon having being unable to continue walking due to the pain from her feet. I can fully sympathise after my earlier blister experiences, but fair play to her also for refusing to go home, instead buying a bike and some kit and carrying on.
For the last stretch to Lyon I picked up another river (I think I'm turning into a river junkie, it had only been 3 days since the last!) La Saone. One morning I woke up late in my tent, opened the zip and saw the campsite owner standing there with a woman with a camera - another local journalist. I made a mental note to come up with a less news worthy answer to the question "where are you heading?" and gave a very bleary eyed interview! It was an amusing story to recount that evening whilst wine tasting in a cooperavtive with my host, a smiling belgian girl driving to Ibiza to do a clown course (just 2 weeks after passing her test and who I'd met on the side of the road, looking for accommodation that night) and a lovely spanish guy looking for agricultural work in the same village. We were an international table of strangers at the start of the evening but friends by the end! The next day I had my first few of the real Alps, snow capped and all in the distance. I was later held hostage in some more campsite toilets by fork lightening, booming thunder and torrential rain. The clouds had been growing and looming all day but thankfully, I made it to the campsite before it kicked-off - it was just a bit of a wait until I could pitch my tent. Plus I had new socks (unimaginably exciting for my feet) and I was loving the new flavor of bargain cereal bar I'd discovered at the supermarket. These worryingly inane hi-lights and the cramping in my back during the night made the city and a bit of real life and comfort something to relish. Next up those Alps, and where to cross them with my limited mountain walking skills!
- comments
Karen Congratulations on the first hurdle. Hope you have a great time; and recovery; in Lyon and that the sun makes an appearance for the Alps. Lots of love K & P
gingerdave keep up the good work trouper huxley. missing my partner in crime and fishing buddy. climb every mountain as julie andrews sang, just pray the nazis arent waiting at the top. much love and foot rubs.dave
Amanda & Patrick Really enjoying your blog. It makes us feel tired just reading it. Your photos are putting ours to shame. All the best in the Alps. Look after those feet. Love A & P