i say we, well, because that’s what my mother used to say (adding, “in a cloud of dust”) and also because it’s me and my trusty navigatrix on komoot, the app i found at the last minute that can handle off-road paths and has voice navigation, which i was desperately seeking. to avoid having to consult my screen every few minutes. it worked well, although i often found myself, to my surprise, obeying her nasal, robot commands, “turn left now” with a verbal acquiescence, “ok, i will,” as if we were having a conversation.
so on day 1, i attended the said (that is, not sung) matins at the cathedral at 7:30 am, which was held in the small chapel next to where Thomas Becket was murdered at Henry II’s behest. afterward, the archdeacon, Jo Kelly-Moore, a lovely woman from New Zealand, led me down to crypt, the oldest part of the cathedral, where many pilgrims before me had received a blessing, and we prayed together there.
i returned to the hotel to gather my things and came back to the cathedral to have my pilgrim’s passport stamped, and a de rigueur photo taken at the zero stone, after which glorious start, i promptly descended into ignominy by departing in the wrong direction.
i realized this when my navigatrix told me, “make a u-turn”, at which point i also realized that i was not listening to her through my headphones, despite having specifically put “find headphones” on my to-do list that morning at breakfast.
i then divested myself of backpack, front pack and walking stick, and spread out my worldly goods atop a litter box, while i searched for at least a half hour for said headphones, to no avail, finally resuming my way, this time in the right direction, past the old butter market. i stopped in a local shop to try to buy a pair, which of course did not work with the non-branded attachment for lightning to 3.5, following which things got unpleasant with the woman behind the counter, before i stopped myself to say, never mind, i don’t want to start with a bad energy, and i went on my way.
by this time it was noon, and i was finally en route. mercifully the sky was gray and the temperature was cool, because it was clear that the backpack was creating its own weather and my body thought i was in the tropics and was behaving accordingly. mopping my brow became my regular pastime.
nevertheless, i was enjoying the scenery, especially as we began to leave the town and find the first signs of the via francigena and the north downs way, a pedestrian path which the VF mostly follows in England. past community gardens, and a wayside forager’s paradise (nettles and borage, to name a few, were everywhere).
my trusty app advised me it should take about 3.5-4 hours or so to do the 18.5 km (11.5 mi) to shepherdswell. i noticed some time later that the app only recorded “time in motion” so anyone looking at the trip as noted would think that i had made it in 3.5 hrs averaging a respectable 3.4 mi/per hour.
would that it were so! alas, the app did not take into account the pauses, perhaps every 50 ft or so (really!) to just deal with the 16kg on my back, adjust the straps, shrug, tighten the belt or take a sip of water. or the periodic checks of the itinerary when the verbal commands seemed questionable.
and so, to paraphrase james stewart in harvey for those who remember, the day wore on. up hill and down dale. the path itself was not really difficult, but the weight i was carrying made even slight hills hard. when it was rough i thought about the children walking from honduras, who didn’t really have any choice. and i found the repetition of the Jesus prayer on the long ascents helpful.
the goal i set was always to finish a stage before dark, and on this, my day one, i did not achieve it. the final ignominy of this day was in the dusk i found myself at the bottom of yet another field, with a long rise, and realized, consulting my map, that just across the top of it, if i could just cut through, i would be at my destination. but this being the back side of a subdivision, it was all fenced in and it was too dark for me to tell if there were any ways through between the houses, or if there were any dogs lurking. and so i was forced to make a huge circle round to finally arrive at my host’s, seven and a half hours, or an average of less than 2 miles per hour, after i had set out, and 12 hours since that peaceful morning service.
my kind host showed me to my room and when i removed my boots i experienced the interesting sensation of charlie horses in both calves at the same time. when i recovered from that i shuffled around enough to have a bite to eat, visit with my host a bit, shower and manage my various electronics, after which i collapsed into bed, wondering how on earth i was going to do this again tomorrow.
here endeth day 1.
here are the photos: it was a gray day. click on one to start the slideshow.