Celia Walks

First here is another photo from the church I visited yesterday, an ox, the symbol for St Luke.  They think these 12th century frescoes were painted by a pilgrim passing through on the Via Francigena. Today was supposed to be all rain, and it did rain on and off, but gently.  I spent a long while at breakfast in the hotel bar which was now open.  Several French and Swiss gentlemen were having a lively political discussion and included me at the end. Unfortunately their conclusions were negative and the only solution they could see was voting for the far right. A reminder that Switzerland is not a big country. At one brief point standing still I could see two of the country’s major lakes. To the north, Lac de Neuchâtel.  And to the south, Lac Léman (Lake Geneva). Hard to see, but it lies beneath the high mountains on the right (that are actually in France). I then spent a lot of time in Romainmôtier.  This is a village with an abbey church, most of which dates fr...

 Here is my Jougne hotel room, with a lovely view of a forested slope. And then a photo of part of the breakfast spread (juice, fresh fruit, fruit salad, cereals, yoghurt, 4 kinds of bread, brioche, 5 kinds of homemade jam, 4 kinds of cheese, 4 kinds of cold meat, smoked trout and, of course, chocolate to finish up with!)  It was indeed a splendid hotel. Place names tell of the thousands and thousands of medieval pilgrims who chose this area as a crossing point out of France, walking the Roman road over the pass. Hôpitaux-Vieux and Hôpitaux-Neufs are now both cross-country ski resorts, but in medieval days were important hospice centres for sick and suffering pilgrims. The prosperous Abbaie de St-Maurice (on the other side of Lausanne - it was definitely one of the top highlights of my first pilgrimage walk) established a priory here in early medieval times.  All that remains is this chapel built in the 9th century and enlarged in the 12th century to welcome pilgrims. And...

 Today started out in the nicest way possible - walking with the cows! They were going to their pasture, and I was headed up hill.  This is the view that waited for me. The rocky cliffs reminded me a bit of Robertson cliffs at home. My kinesiologist trains by running up and down the cliff paths four or five times. People were running here too. The fort in the distance is the Fort de Joux. Here it is closer up. A bit later on I came to Fort Maheux. The two forts guard both sides of a very narrow cleft through which trade has passed since Roman times.  The highway still does pass through without climbing, but the Via makes you climb.   Prior to WW II the French established a defensive line, la ligne Maginot. These forts were renovated and became part of it, but it was totally ineffective in combatting the German advance.  It seems rather obvious that such fortifications around a pass belong much more to the medieval than to the modern times. The path went down to ...

The church in Mouthier was open yesterday evening - always very pleasing in France where most churches I pass by are closed. This one had a comfortable, homey reading nook where I spent a pleasant half hour. Today was not relaxing, however. The Via was supposed to follow beside the river up through a gorge. It was rerouted, however, along the top of the gorge. Which meant a really steep climb along narrow rocky paths. A lot of forest walking with not many views. What goes up, comes down, and then goes up again. Another steep climb, thankfully on a forest track, that ended in a rolling landscape. About two hours before destination, a thunder storm and another drenching.  Luckily the youth hostel tonight has a heater and my hiking boots are drying out on top of it.   Two pilgrims I met during the day: a nurse from Australia doing a two-month hike, and a retired doctor from a French village not too far from here doing a few weeks, or maybe a few months… They are eating tarte aux ...

 I spent a slow morning in Ornans, a lovely small town on the Loue river, surrounded by high hills with rocky promontories.  The early nineteenth century painter Gustave Courbet was born here, grew up here, and returned frequently during his lifetime.  It makes excellent sense to have a Courbet museum here, much more sense than the Victor Hugo museum in Besançon  (Hugo was born there but his parents moved away when he was all of six weeks old) or the Diderot museum in Langres (Diderot spent his childhood here but left as soon as he could, in his early teens, and came back as seldom as humanly possible).   One of Courbet’s first paintings, Ornans.  Right from his early teens, Courbet painted what he saw, in contrast to the popular romantic school of artists who painted with imagination, heightening emotion. Courbet was a great walker all his life. A much later Ornans painting. Nearing the end of his life, in poorish health and just out of prison (Courbet was...

Today started out fine. As is often the case, I felt a wave of joy after setting out - not caused by anything in particular, other than my body feeling good and strong, my mind at ease knowing my destination and night’s lodging, my spirit lifted by the wind and birds and plants.  This is what I was  looking at at that moment. Nothing special! Unfortunately, shortly after this, the rain started, gently at first and then hard.  This meant I had to abandon the ´scenic’ Via Francigena path, which was quickly becoming a mess of slippery mud and threatening puddles, and stick to the ING route on roads.  Too bad, because the scenery would have been lovely. By the end, I was wet from head to toe, with my feet literally sloshing in my shoes, although the contents of my backpack, in a wet bag and protected by my rain cloak, stayed dry. Just before the rain, a lovely climbing rose bush. I’m in a nice hotel room now, surrounded by drying clothes.  The challenge will be to g...