Wet feet, a night’s sleep in a church (and thoughts of Entropy)

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Yesterday morning I sought out a high fat breakfast in the only open Boulangerie on a Sunday in La-Cote-St-Andre; waiting in the queue for my Quiche Lorraine while with each passing second my wet feet felt like a time bomb catalyst for a cold. After walking out of the town I decided to hang my socks and boots up to dry, but soon became restless and decided to continue barefoot and tie my boots and socks to my rucksack:


There are no accidents and I was beginning to think that perhaps the meeting with the cow on the path was for a reason. Perhaps now I would be the barefoot pilgrim on his way to Santiago:


After about 10 minutes of walking I abandoned the silly idea and continued on in my wet boots while my socks dried on the back of my rucksack. At the time of my afternoon siesta my socks were almost dry:


It is my custom to always lay down wherever I am for my siesta. The bread which I had was extremely good and it has been getting better and better along the French route:


The Italian Gite owner from the previous night was semi-correct about the flatness of the terrain ahead. There is a beautiful stretch of flatlands, bordered by rolling hills, and the Camino does its best to follow the route of the hills as best as can be:


During the day I had continued to feel ill and weak and in the early evening when I reached the village of Revel-Tourdan I decided to crash for the night and decided to take a chance in the church. I laid down my sleeping bag and fell into a deep sleep – to be woken briefly by the caretaker coming in to lock up. I rose from my spot on the floor and murmured “Compostela” and he nodded his head and with a kind smile said “bon” and let me continue sleeping on the floor. I had a wonderful sleep for about 11 hours – only disturbed a few times in the night by the thundering noise of the church bells and the sound of rain pitter pattering outside – and last night I earned my rest which would mean waking up with renewed strength and optimism:


In the morning I woke up about an hour after first light and took a photo of the church:


My usual custom is to wake up and search out some boiling water for my coffee and this morning I felt the true nature of French hospitality; something which I had been missing to date (except of course for my wonderful stay in the Gite at Charancieu). I called up to an open window in a house by the church and a very helpful woman boiled me some water and gave me some puff pastry biscuits. Halfway through my coffee the front door of another house opened and a man asked if I wanted a coffee. I quickly drank my first up and politely requested some boiling water for my second. He invited me in and him and his wife also offered me a bread, butter and jam breakfast. It was a welcomed start to the day and throughout the day I have walked fast; with strength and without any feeling of being ill.

The next “big” place on the route was to be the town of Chavanay and the walk gradually took me towards the mountains which border its town limits:


Much of the walk this morning was again rural and devoid of any village or town with a patisserie or boulangerie and the one town which did show signs of life did have a bakers, but its opening times were reflective of life in rural France:


About an hour ago I once again crossed over the Rhone river, but this time into the town of Chavanay:


It is my sole plan to now find a supermarket for a delayed siesta and then continue on along the path. The route will now climb upwards: gradually from the 200 metre altitude of Chavanay to the 1,200 metre altitude between Le Tracol and Les Setoux.

Today was a day without fellow pilgrims, but instead was a day of philosophy: thoughts of the theory of Entropy and how it relates to fate and the Buddhist philosophy of predetermination as in “there are no accidents”. I am a big “fan” of Ludwig Boltzmann (the father of Entropy). It appears (ironically) that physics will bring humanity closer to God than theology (IMHO of course). I also thought of Descartes and Susan Sontag, and the unexpected semi-erotic dream I had last night in the catholic church at Revel Tourdan of “Sporty Spice”. I also had a few conversations with canines along the way so it wasn’t all monologue I’m happy to report 🙂

The landscape should begin to become more and more interesting and varied as I walk on and I also hope to meet more and more pilgrims now along the way. Happy, energised and a little sunburned 🙂

Categories: Walking into Spring and Summer [My 3,109km walk from Prague to Finisterre]Tags: , , ,


  1. At first glance I was puzzled what a “bliotheque” could be. After reading about the wet socks, when I looked again I could see them clearly.

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