day 35 – apr 30 – train to Bar-sur-Aube – hike to Clairvaux

Leaving Paris – when I arrived I had no clue how bittersweet this parting would be. I was consoled by the thought I would be back for a short time only a few weeks later to meet up with my two friends for an intersectional pilgrimage.

(note: to this an additional mile should be added as the app messed up and stopped recording after a mile and had to be restarted)

This proved once again to be an ignominious departure. I was all packed up and ready to take the train in good time, or so I thought, but when the Uber arrived the chariot would not fit in the trunk. How did I know you could scroll down to choose a van? That took some time to arrive but fortunately he took advantage of the bus lane to get me to the station even with time to grab a coffee. However, not without further anxiety as I somehow thought I should check for the two screw handles that connect the arms of the chariot to the body (and which have to be undone to make it possible to load into any vehicle, van or no). Usually I put them in my waist pack but they were not there. I called the hotel and asked them to check. And called back to hear nothing was found.

Once in the train I undid my carefully packed bags and searched. And found one but not the other. Really? I packed them separately? How was that? I called the hotel again and while waiting to call back after they checked I thought of one more place to look… and there it was. I called the hotel again and he began saying there is NOTHING in the room RIEN! But I cut him off with profuse thanks to say I had found it.

Lesson: no more packing without coffee first.

I arrived in Bar sur Aube and had no internet connection, so I spent 15 minutes on the phone with Orange, the cell provider, to find out if it was a signal problem or me. I had to restart my phone and all was well. I started off on my route and was about 15 minutes in when the navigatrix told me I should be somewhere else. This led to further delay and confusion, when in fact I was on the right path all along. Sometimes those satellites just don’t communicate!

None of this would have mattered, but I was on the clock. I arrived with the train at 11 and the only possible visit to the monastery/prison at Clairvaux was at 3pm. I had four hours, and just four hours, to make it there.

I hoofed it, and there were some grassy hill paths and other challenges. I was on a steep hill where I finally was seeing some of the famous vines of Champagne, and wishing some kind soul would come along to offer me a ride. A truck did indeed stop, but it was to say, “did you drop something back there?” I turned around to see that the shirt I had recently taken off had not been well enough attached to the chariot and was lying in the road… I didn’t get a ride but I was very grateful!

There was no stopping on the way. I made it with five minutes to spare, enough to get my ticket and park the chariot (they very kindly let me put it in the office).

Clairvaux was one of the most important Cistercian abbeys of the middle ages, built by St Bernard in the 12^th c. After the French revolution it became a prison, and has remained so till today. It is now half managed by the Ministry of Justice and half by the Ministry of Culture, with the former having a say over who goes in and where. This meant no cell phones and giving up my passport for the duration of the visit.

I was in such a hurry that I did not think to take my coat as I was still so hot from the walk. With the result that on a cold day in stone buildings, I was pretty frozen. But it was a fantastic visit, with a very knowledgeable and enthusiastic volunteer guide. We were able to visit a restored 12^th century refectory, dormitory and cellar where the convers, or lay brothers, lived, and which was similar to where the monastics lived (that part was not available to visit). We moved on to a wing of the 18^th century cloisters, which had been converted to a prison although one could see how it had been used as a monastery before. On the top floor were rows of metal cages, all of which could be opened or shut with one lever, called chicken coops by the prisoners, which had been installed in the rooms when it was decided prisoners should no longer sleep in dormitories. With peepholes from the next room so guards could keep watch over the long rows… We also visited the solitary confinement “cachots”, completely dark even in daytime, where many members of the Resistance were kept, tortured and later shot during the German occupation of the prison in WWII.

It was a beautiful and terrible place. It is still a prison, with the prisoners now located behind the original buildings in more modern facilities. So the walls have changed their meaning from voluntary to involuntary enclosure.

I stayed in a hotel just across from the abbey. I also had probably the worst dinner I have ever had in France. I was very sad to learn they also did brown goopy sauce over meat, meat that had to be cut into miniscule pieces in order to be able to chew and swallow it…

At least I was able to get one photograph from the window of my room that evening.

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