A rebel without a clue.

Auxerre. I'm a little exhausted. Ran around trying to find accommodation this morning. After visiting the Mairie and Diocese Office I lastly headed to the Office de tourisme where I was told I could stay with a gentleman from 4:30pm. My body was switching off and my mind was distracted. The combination of wine and lack of sleep is making me feel old today. I've no interest in being here today, but I know this malaise will lift with a few days off the pop and a good night's sleep in my own bed. It's a beautiful town. Coming in was lovely this morning, but I lacked any energy to take it beyond surface detail. Now I wait outside 36 Rue Michelet and I hope my host understands how tired walking a Camino is and how demanding backpacking is as well. Even as a kid I didn't relish long days traipsing about look for a source of complete relaxation. The obvious place to stay - Maison de Randonnér - was full, but the lady of the house allowed me to rest upstairs where I almost ...

Brilliant day. Walked towards Gevrey-Chambertin from Dijon along a yellow marked pathway, until I realised it was simply too far without any refreshments, then hitched to it. First person dropped me at a roundabout second driver took me direct. He had to go to the dump with some building rubbish. Once I opened the door a couple of lovely eyes looked up at me from the fit space: Paco his Labrador companion. At the tip I helped him dump the old pallets and tiles: it was a kind of workout and I threw the rules with a lot of force into the various skips arranged about this cliff surrounded space. When we drove through the route of the Grande Cru be pointed out the space in Bouchon which was his families. Burgundy was a true revelation, but you pay for the stuff... Phillippe LeClerc cave was my destination, after repase and fussing another dog, so I paid for a very very educational degustation and learned that the monks who tended the vines, for centuries before the French Revolution, knew ...

Another morning and another Tartine - Tartin'Art near by Notre Dame. The Halle is closed this morning. Jeudi. It's the way. I'm going to walk the Chemin Saint Jacques towards Gevrey-Chambertin: just for the wine and plat-du-jour. I reek ... Borrowed the hosts parfume to hide a week plus in the same clothes. We always mask our true odour in essence of nature. The fall was not so graceful when ever aspect of the outward reality is a façade to the inner being. It's truly odd to see ourselves in a mirror and be unworthy of our natural self? There is always a gypsy woman loitering outside the main cathedral. Lyon and Dijon. Do they have begging rights. I cannot help feel it's all lies.

Dear John, happy birthday. 86 you'd have been ... What would the world be like now for you with all the problems of the world? They only began to appear on the 11th of September 2001 and you didn't live to see the awful aftermath. What would you make of Mr Trump who is seriously, not even in a pack of Super Trump cards of US presidents - you need a special edition to find his faux visage. Can't the US impeach the president for mental health issues or being quite literally insane? Fake tan, comb over, leggy young blonde on his arm, with more kids than Old Mother Hubbard. Dijon: was I really going to wake up with Florian's willy pointing in my general direction? Did I over react? No, I might have lost €55 but I found another Airbnb and had a solid night's sleep. Going to get a Tartine and then walk to Gevrey-Chambertin. Dijon? Did I just walk free and easy? Yes I did. The pain is gone. It's not in my derrière. It's not in my bones. Put it down to experience....

A different sort of fun when the bus doesn't arrive. Seven people are told it left without you. But either the bus was invisible or its a plain lie. It's the way. I'm now sat in Perrache charging this up. For about an hour or so I talked to a lovely girl called Cindy, so it wasn't wasted. This was my before sunrise moment, except it was only two hours and the sun has yet to set. Now to get to Dijon I only have two options: BlaBlaCar or SNCF. So far I've not been in a railway station in France this time. Today was a wonderful day. Lyon is a cool city and security minded. Does the world need Police Nationale or the army on ever street. It's a cause of panic. It is made up to keep the people in place. It's nothing real. Can I drink wine in a station. I asked the cops and he kindly said it's not the best idea! Missing buses? For €2.99 should I cry? Now I have to pay €32 for a train ... But it's faster. It's all a slow way back to the UK. I will leav...

Smoke gets in my eyes, throat and nose. French femme fatale pulls forever Canker sticks they stay pencil thin. Inside they drip with coal tar Nightmares. Between conversation, Ends, Thrown hastily, Guttering. While another match flares And a sun watches down The rue.

Lyon. Hurdles to find a bed. Not happening with the Accueil Jacquaire, but that was yesterday. So now you'll find me at the end of the bar with La'Chouffe and a veggie burger. And I've a room on the top floor of a rough around the edges Auberge de Jeunesse. I got trapped between the entrance to the North Face of the Cathedral and a huge iron gate topped by a barbed welcome. I screamed and screamed at a man enclosed in his iPod world, but no matter how loud I shouted there was no response. I was trapped between Freedom on Rue St. Etienne and the Grande Eglise with no possible way of escape. Such a strange moment and quite symbolic. I'll never dare enter a church again: they are truly barriers to life.