A rebel without a clue.

While waiting for a sandwich a messenger of the Lord arrived to buy a croissant. Le Curé was behind me in his dog collar. Ready to start the day in the usual manner: with his morning bread. He invited me to the Paroisse and he took my details: he will speak to the priest in Chantilly, so I may be able to sleep there? All those coincidences! If I hadn't gone through all of my early morning routine he wouldn't have been behind me in the queue - I question the concept of Free Will often. It took me a few moments for this penny to drop and tell him I was a pelerin and I got to spend a few moments in his garden with his other messenger of the Lord: a scruffy French spaniel. *** The priest at the   Presbytère was very wary, but in 2022 I would be too. I haven't craved a bed from a Curé or Prêtre  in so long it's not true: perhaps as far back as that random Orval bar after Halle in Belgium... He eventually caved in. Now I am sat at the end of Rue de Connétable in a bar tabac ...

Just bounced out of bed around a quarter to seven. Packed up ready to get breakfast. I am to help myself as Vanessa wakes up a little later in the morning. But that's fine. During the early morning some sporty car appeared to be idling on the street outside so I got up and shut the windows: otherwise a rural French silent night: until the reversing sounds of the binmen. Much rested once I could switch off last night. A few things running through my head: Chantilly will be expensive? So my intentions may not come good. There's always the other direction, back to Compiégne where there are a couple of Acceuil pelerin. But this morning I get to Saint Leu d'Esserent... And sort out the footwear issue? Burning my mouth on 'Gold Blend' Nescafé Special Filter and a bowl of Cruesli with Greek style yogurt. It's a cloudy morning looking out onto their garden with the above ground swimming pool. Intense dreams during the evening, but they're now fading memories: it wil...

Usual routine this Wednesday morning, but on leaving the Gîtes I decided I want to walk, not catch a bus to walk tomorrow... It definitely feels right not to spend one day in Compiègne then a night, with its relentless temptations: which I fail at. Not so bad this morning. The bed was short and squeaky. Coffee, toilet and away. *** A long tiring day which could go no further 6 kilometres from Mouy, the premier etape this outing. It took a while to hitch here from Mouchy, but I managed it. At the Mairie I got a great deal of assistance to find a bed for the evening: La Source Tranquille.  The family from Berkshire who own the Gîtes allowed me to stay in their home for €50. But my feet are no good in these sandals. The hostess, Vanessa, has been very helpful, gave me a cup of tea (twice) and we chatted about my life and hers - in the morning there will be coffee, some orange juice, muesli and yogurt. My pronunciation is bad... It may one day get better, but I doubt it - my brain won'...