DAY 39 HERMONVILLE TO REIMS

Our billet last night was a comfortable studio room in the courtyard of a renovated farmhouse in the centre of the village adjacent to the church. It is run by a friendly Dutch woman with impeccable English who also has an art gallery and tearoom in the courtyard. Although she married and brought up a family in France since coming here as a student 40 years ago, if Le Pen were to become the next President of France in the election run-off with Macron next weekend, she would be prevented from receiving a French pension. She is not the only person we’ve met who is very concerned about the outcome of these elections.

In cheerful mood, the sun shining, we set out southwards into farmland and woodland, rising up onto a low ridge and contouring along a good and well used track. The surrounding woodland gave us some respite from the rather still and building humidity of the day, and we passed several walkers and bike riders on the track.

As we came out of the woods and began to descend off the ridge we passed one of a ring of forts that surround Reims, the Fort de Chenay, built in 1870. Unfortunately it is now in private ownership, behind a double fence and locked gates, and screened by trees, so we were unable to see it.

From the hillside just below we had our first view of Reims and its cathedral standing proud on the distant horizon, behind the village of Merfy, another small settlement tucked down under the hill and surrounded by vineyards.

In Merfy the church was locked, as we have come to expect, but there were a couple of benches and it was lunchtime, so we sat eating our sandwiches and watching a man varnish a wine barrel: part of feature with a wine press in front of the church.

Although closed, the church had been well maintained by the local community. There was a restored pieta displayed in a custom made case in the outer wall so that it could be seen and appreciated by everyone passing by: of particular poignancy today, the day before Good Friday, and of some consolation for disappointment of the church being closed.

Turning right off the main street, we headed out of the village, down the hill, out of the vineyards, and back into arable land bordering the outskirts of Reims. We noticed that the vineyards were split into plots of varying sizes, some with only a few vines, including one tiny plot beside the road with just a couple of dozen plants. Tom has been trying to work out how many vines he could fit into our garden! Apparently, there is extensive individual ownership and not all vineyards are owned by the big name companies, albeit they do seem to dominate the local economy.

Once down onto the plains surrounding Reims we could appreciate the hills around and why there was a protective ring of forts, such as Chenay, for this historically important city. These days protection is provided by a motorway ring road, taking traffic from the north and sending it on its way west to Paris or south towards Besancon and Switzerland – the direction we are heading.

The walk into Reims took us through some more farmland, the sewage works – from which clear liquid was pouring into drainage channels smelling strongly of detergent – and extensive gardening allotments. On our other side was an industrial area, but the path itself was wide, tree-lined and made for pleasant walking in dappled shade.

About half way to the centre we were diverted onto the path running alongside the canal de l’Aisne a la Marne, which we then followed almost all the way into the city centre. Although it seemed to go on for ever at this stage of the day, it was in fact a lovely way to approach the city centre, and obviously a resource that is much used by locals for recreation, as well as by industrial traffic on the canal.

After nearly two hours since crossing the motorway, we climbed a bridge over the canal and picked our way through the streets to the cathedral. What a magnificent sight!

Tom approached a couple and asked politely in his best French whether they would take a picture of us both standing in front of the cathedral, to be met with “yeah, sure” in a South African accent! There ensued a long conversation about his time working in the mining industry there, and the couple’s experiences teaching in Suffolk, living in John Peel’s village. What a loss to relaxing Saturday mornings. And perhaps a lesson in not overdoing the exercise on retirement….