After yesterday’s breakthrough with running, I was excited to get back on the road and head to Reims, a city I have been looking forward to since I boarded my flight in New York!
Yesterday I only did 20k, and fast, so I landed at the hotel early, went to sleep early, got up early and headed out early today. And as the saying goes, I was feeling healthy, wealthy and wise.
I ran the first 4 miles continuously, then started walking for pictures and hills. The morning light shining through the clouds was beautiful!
Even with running and stopping, it went faster. Though I am not yet running continuously, it’s still a different experience than walking.
I feel all the happiness and good memories that a fast sweat brings. When I break pace to walk, I feel relaxed, in control of my speed, and also as if I could go forever. I’m less tempted to duck into the nearest cafe for a rest or shelter from the road for some reason. I didn’t take any sitting stops today.
Of course, maybe walking can be a bit more meditative. As my writing seems to suggest, when I’m running I’m just thinking about running.
Also, my overall time on the road is shorter. My phone doesn’t die and I can listen to music.
Running seems to also be, curiously, less tiring because it’s less overall time you’re strung out on the course (to borrow an idea from the marathon world).
Anyway, I felt pretty energetic when I reached my destination, Reims, right at noon today. As always, my first thought was, OK, where is the tourist office?
To the credit of the local governments here, every small city seems to have a helpful tourist office with a trail of a million signs pointing towards it. Even if I wanted to ask for directions it would be superfluous with a signpost on every corner; « Office de Tourisme, Cathédrale »
I approached the Cathedral from behind and the tour buses parked along the road and my instinct to tap open my camera lens signified I was arriving at the landmark.
I tried to frame a shot of with this fellow tourist in the foreground. Something about the way he seemed to have escaped the group of his peers from the bus (many looking very world-weary and lounging with their backs towards the sights) to fiddle with his camera made me smile.
I came around to the front of the church. Breathtaking! And they were handing out little chocolate biscuit samples in the open air surrounding the archeticutural beauty! Amazing!
The tourist office provided me with a wonderful booklet of maps covering 14 days of 5 hour segments of the Via Francigena, but pointed me in the direction of the church for a stamp for my pilgrim passport.
Thinking about it now, I wonder if this is on account of a strict seperation of church and state after the French Revolution, which, I learned about from Rose when I took that ride to Arras!
Anyway, back to the church I went, crossing the square without taking another biscuit because I remembered the city of Bapaume motto, « two hands out to give, one to receive »
The church wasn’t unexpectedly bright like the cathedral in Laon had been, but not as dark and foreboding as I felt the small church in Peronne was.
There were several right-side-up tables selling souvenirs.
The cashier of them advised me to wait 10 minutes, until 2PM. That’s when the pilgrim information desk set up shop.
I was so grateful to to do that; sit down and take off my backpack in the last chair facing the alter. Remember the part of the story where I covered a half marathon with my pack before noon?
Soon the pilgrim desk ladies arrived. Oh my gosh, it really brings me a smile to my face to remember their leader.
She only spoke French, and is probably one of the first people to just confidently and clearly explain things in French to me without pauses or English words mixed in. It was like watching French television to pick up vocabulary. No translation to English, but somehow a newscaster accent and a straightforward style makes everything clearer.
I really admired the zippy way she worked, and of course she helped me, and I am grateful! There aren’t so many other ways I can describe it, so here’s a picture of her behind the desk helping some other pilgrims, with, I think, a literal twinkle in her eye.
I have been thinking about how a couple of people have commented on my Via Francigena stories so far, that things always seem to work out perfectly in the end, I’m traveling alone but in every place there seem to be good people and friends and help and company.