First day with the chariot – and it was raining. I worsened the situation by going out in the morning with only my raincoat and no umbrella, only to discover that the water-repellent finish that “sheds light rain and snow” must consider light rain a bare drizzle, as I was quickly soaked, and cold.
I had realized after my frantic calls in Tournehem that I needed a local SIM card and had gone to get one, only to have left my passport at home. Returning, I debated staying another day in Arras but I felt that my time away had already been too long. I changed and armed with an umbrella and as much warm clothing as I could muster, I left the wet things draped around the room and went out again to get the SIM card, the stamp in my pilgrim’s passport, and some lunch for the way. When I got back, my clothes – o miracle of synthetics – had in fact dried, and that was a sign to get on the road.
I waterproofed my baggage (extra heavy-duty jumbo garbage bag, thank you home depot) and strapped it in and loaded up the carriage, off on my first full day with the chariot. I left around 2:30 in the afternoon for what was supposed to be 18 but turned out to be 20.1 km, to a small village called Sapignies. I’m grateful for daylight savings, as it is light till 8pm. The full stage was to Bapaume, but that was too long for me, and there was a nice room available in the village.
In fact I only had rain for the first and last hour of the walk. After leaving the town, I was in a gray and green landscape of fields, small world war cemeteries along the side of fields, walled and well-tended, 70 and 100 years later, and numerous tiny chapels, at crossroads, at seemingly random spots, mostly not open and few with any indication to whom they were dedicated or by whom they had been built. Nevertheless, they left an impression.
At one such chapel, I was trying to read the map and decide which way to go when suddenly a man appeared, older but hale, in heavy boots but no hiking gear, and therefore a local. He asked me if I was walking the via Francigena and when I said yes, he said I was the first pilgrim he’d met this year, and it was too bad he didn’t have the keys or he would have let me in the chapel so I could sign the book. He showed me the correct path, which was neither road I had thought, but a detour off into the woods, and walked with me for about an hour until he needed to veer off home. On the way we discussed pilgrimages and he allowed as how he thought those folks who did the camino were all miscreants. I took him to mean that there was a bit too much partying going on in some cases, since I of course know some very sincere camino travelers…
I then continued on a track in a kind of trough, and descending into it was an interesting test of managing the chariot behind me. Overall it did well, although I watched in dismay as its wheels got progressively more and more caked in mud. Finally I was out of the woods and onto a small road again, and then in the last hour it began to rain again. I used the umbrella but still was completely soaked by the time I finally reached the small village where my Airbnb was (and a roadside automated pizza stand! unfortunately not working). The host was very gracious and helpful; he made me an omelette for supper and we chatted about his and his partner’s desire to live in the countryside despite the lack of services in the villages.
After dinner I hung things out to dry and collapsed.
