On the morning of the 15th, which dawned a beautiful sunny day, I visited the very magnificent cathedral and got my pilgrim passport stamped, stopped in a bakery and then had a café and croissant (ahhh….) at the local café. I had been wearing a scarf for some time over my raggedy hair, and as I pushed open the door of the café, an older woman, looking somewhat the worse for wear, looked up at me and said in French, “cancer?” My first thought was, wow, is she one of those people who goes around trying to guess your sign? And I said, smiling, oui, en fait, and went on in.
As I was waiting for the coffee, I started laughing to myself, realizing she thought I was undergoing chemo. I guess no one in France who is not Muslim ever wears a scarf outside the house… Fortunately she came back while I was sitting outside enjoying the sun (and my croissant) and we were able to set the matter straight.
Thus began three lovely days walking the canals of the Marne – from Reims to Sept-Saulx (and then train to Chalons), Chalons to Vitry-la-Veille and then Vitry-la-Veille to Vitry-le-Francois (if you are wondering about all those Vitrys, and there are more, I did too – it’s etymologically connected to “victory”). The first day was great weather, the next two were gray, but it didn’t matter. There was something quite magic about walking those straight jade lines that made me feel as if I was in a sort of meditative cocoon, so much so that I got quite irritated when the directions led me away from them.
On that first day, at first, there was a mix of industrial activity (a beet sugar factory) and agricultural fields along the canals. It was fun to watch the occasional pleasure boat and the few working barges pass through the locks, and to marvel at the engineering of this gradually rising water lane. Later in the afternoon, there was a blessed bench, where I could sit and have a lunch break, and when the path did move away from the canal to reach the village of Sept-Saulx where I could get the regional train, it was through a small village with a (partially) 12c church (their advertising was a bit deceptive – only the altar was 12th c, the rest was later, but they drew me in…) and then a sort-of fairy-like bit of forest.
At the Sept-Saulx rail stop – there was not even a station bldg., just a little bus shelter, but mercifully it was warmer than the last time – thanks to a recommendation I had just received in an email, I listened to a lovely friend’s talk on St. Mary of Egypt, which lasted just exactly as long as I needed to wait for the train.
In Chalons I stayed in a rather nondescript part of town in an Airbnb flat that looked old from the outside and in the staircase, but the apartment looked like it came straight out of 1980s suburbia. I didn’t take a photo but that was the impression I had. The hosts left the key in a lockbox with instructions so I was on my own. I found a supermarket and lamented that France has moved nearly as much to already-prepared food as the USA has, although I admit it was handy for me as I did not have much means to cook.
