A rebel without a clue.

Here I am opposite the eglise below the château and the jet planes landing and disappearing from Charles de Gaulle twenty miles away. At lunch I had a fantastic Portuguese formulae du jour then walked into a downpour along the cobbled part betwixt Le Mesnil-Aubry and Écouen. Randomly, a gentleman who speaks near perfect English, Oliver, and his wife Alice Mikal Craven(a professor at a university in Paris), took me in for the night. I briefly looked in on the Mairie, but it was so busy, then I went to the Office de Tourisme, but it was closed (when it was meant to be open), so in desperation I went for a semi secluded piss. As I turned around and was heading towards the eglise, just across the road, I hollered (or was hollered after by a gentleman?) coming towards me. I asked him where I could find the Presbytère, which he didn't know, but instantly he invited me back to his abode, after first consulting his partner. Now I am composing myself next to the Hotel de Ville with a few ch...

Starring across the road at the Gare de Chantilly-Gouvieux I am sorely tempted to get on board... But it's the big commute from this satellite of Paris. Once the fireworks ceased last night, at the conclusion of some concert further down Rue de Connétable than the priests home/office, I slept very well until 6. The café opposite the station for a petit dejeuner where I spied a bakery opposite to purchase yet another midmorning sandwich...and a train flies through the station. Why is it obligatory for a café (bar tabac) to also play god awful music videos and sell every form of gambling that can be wedged into one establishment: is it a state regulations that this trite music is sent out to poison the morning beauty? Distinctly average pain aux raisin. But it's a starter. My body must still hold the residuals of the pizza with its more cheese than tomato aspect!?! I think I am in a bad mood... Surely it will pass once I depart Chantilly for further suburbia? LOL!

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'...

And I am already missing quality time with Lola. Yesterday, between gardening chores and restfulness, I cuddled, tickled and blew raspberries on her belly many many times. Once I had eaten my late lunch, after returning from the allotment, (and after I'd gone for a brief snooze) up she came nuzzling me for another walk. She's got a body language all her own. I can read when she's jealous, peeved, disgruntled etc, which I know she has been since I 'willing' dog sat for Archie for 36 days... I've been unable to give her undivided dedication, but she will always have my true loyalty. Still a little frosty around the edges this morning. I awoke on the dot of 5:30, however, but my body is still attempting to recover from the improbable Sunday with Mark. But I am one whole day away from that and, as I plan to walk out of Beauvais tomorrow, tonight will be a quiet evening at the Gîtes. Yesterday Lola was making the doggy equivalent of a purring noise when she appears t...

What I should have done and what I actually did are not the same: it's why I am constantly ill at ease. Firstly the long walk up to Waitrose via St Chad's in Headingley, which was a test to see what the shoes I've been wearing for dog sitting/walking duties since July would be like on a long walk through suburbia to the pain on my left arch area, was a good thing. Then I briefly saw Glenn who was a little shifty and wouldn't come for breakfast across at Fika, so I stupidly bought two doughy bunlike affairs at the bakery/deli just off Hollin Lane which didn't give me the kind of energy I sought. Walking into Meanwood, through the park I didn't feel right so after the purchases I made at Waitrose I wrongly had two sour half pints - one each in Terminus and Alfred - and then, because the new Meanwood Tavern doesn't open until October - where I was going to have one more half and then head back to the flat - I walked back into Leeds along Otley Road, going over ...