Our overnight lodging was a typical old fashioned French family-run establishment, of the type where you’d expect to find a bidet in your room. Actually we didn’t, but there was one of those squat little baths which demands olympic gymnastic flexibility to get in and out of. Fortunately it had a shower over, which made things easier.
Fortified by a wholesome breakfast, we left Wissant as the sun began to burn off the morning mist. We passed a signpost telling us that Rome was a mere 2080 km away and that we’d walked 50 km since Canterbury.
Thankful for small mercies, we pressed on. It made us think of Polar Preet, the female army officer who recently walked to the South Pole, who spoke of focussing on the next steps, rather than the distance to her destination. What wise words for pilgrims.
After a while we came upon what looked like a fortified farmstead of old, with buildings contained within a walled courtyard.
Onward and upward our path took us to the highest point of the day at Mont Couple at the northern end of a prominent chalk ridge. Here there the remnants of some significant fortifications – part of Hitler’s Atlantic Wall defences, including gun emplacements and block houses. The area is now designated a nature reserve and over the main gun site there now stands a large table d’orientation. Interestingly, this showed Rome to be 1284km away as the crow flies. What a circuitous route we must be taking! Perhaps more sobering was just how close Kiev is. Our thoughts turned to the plight of the Ukrainians at this time.
As we dropped off the ridge we passed through an area of woodland where we saw bluebells for the first time this spring. How good it was to find both diversity of bird life and wild flowers in pockets of unmanaged woodland, in stark contrast with the lifelessness of the large areas of prairie-scale arable farming. We’ve seen very little bird life, except for larks, so far in France, and the only raptor has been a solitary kestrel seen today. We stopped to enjoy a woodland lunch.
At Landrethun-le-Nord we found the church of St Martin, all locked up with cobwebs over the doors. Quite a modern looking church, but perhaps rather inactive and seemingly not welcoming to passing pilgrims.
It seemed something of an irony that the church notice board was advertising pilgrimages to Lourdes and Jerusalem, while making no mention of the pilgrim route passing its very doors.
More prairie farming followed more prairie farming.
As we approached Caffiers the processing plant associated with the limestone quarries dominated the landscape with a long line of mineral wagons waiting in the railway line. Up the hill to the centre of the village we found the church of St Eloi, another modern church, this time seemingly well used.
On opening the door we unknowingly triggered a switch delivering canned music and turning the lights on. The walls were adorned with the usual Stations of the Cross, effigies of the Virgin Mary and a rather prominent Joan of Arc. The lacework on the alter cloth was particularly striking. However, once again we found no welcome to pilgrims or reference to the pilgrimage route passing its doors.
We prayed for forgiveness for the canned music and for the plight of the people of Ukraine.
The path beyond Caffiers revealed yet more prairie landscape until such point that the Via Francigena becomes completely obliterated by the plough, with signage no more helpful than telling us that the “propriete est prive”.
Using a combination of the official Via Francigena website and various online mapping apps we were able to establish the line of the path quite clearly, but the only safe place to walk without trampling oil seed rape or freshly sown ground was along a field drain cut deep into the ground. Thank goodness it was dry.
On reaching the railway line carrying the Eurostar (at least that was recognisable) we turned up onto the busy D231 for the last few kilometres into Guines, our destination for the day.