We were still quite tired after our long day yesterday, but today’s walk was going to be much shorter at about 13.5 kms rather than 28 kms. With that in mind we were slow to get going, taking a trip to the shops to buy filled rolls at the epicerie and returning to the hotel pack our bags.

We eventually set out at 0950, walking back down through the village and across a bridge, giving lovely views up and down the Loue, a famous trout fishing river.

Ornans is famous as the birthplace of the French realist painter Gustave Courbet, who was born here in 1819. There is a museum about Courbet’s life and work which we hope to visit on another occasion – probably in conjunction with a fishing trip. For those interested, there is an exhibition of Courbet’s work at Trouville-sur-Mer later this year.

For the first part of the day we walked up the true left bank of the river, sometimes in woodland and sometimes through small villages with very attractive, though simple, public campsites run by the local community. Useful to know for our return visit. In some places canoeing is permitted, though not close to the weirs and old mills associated with each village.

It looks as if historically there was a significant amount of industrial activity alongside the river, including milling, but little goes on now. The villages are very quiet, with few if any shops and old hotels now closed, as were the churches, of course.

In Vuillafans the old hotel still functions as a bar/restaurant and so, needing to refill water bottles, we sat in their garden in the shade with orange juices for a while. Noting the banners on our rucksacks the barman asked where we’d come from and where we were going, and wished us ‘bon courage’ as we left. It is very encouraging when complete strangers engage with us in this way, especially late in the day when we’re tired but still have a daunting distance to go. Not that that was the case today, which was pretty easy as they go.

At Lods we crossed onto the true right bank of the river, pausing on the bridge for Tom to spot trout. There were several very healthy looking fish feeding close to the bridge, so we got a good look at them in the clear water.

Once on the other side of the river we climbed up past the chateau in Lods, and zigzagged on upwards past the chateau’s orchards, into pastures with cows wearing bells. We’ve noticed over the last couple of days that we’ve left behind arable farming and entered into an area of small pastures with many more cattle than further north. With the more dramatic scenery around us, tinkle of cow bells, and chalet style houses with wide overhanging roofs it’s beginning to feel like we’re in the mountains.

Out onto higher ground we began to get views of the limestone ridges that tower over the river higher up the valley. Fairly soon we dropped back down into our destination, Mouthier-Haute-Pierre, which is a very pretty village in a beautiful location perched high on the side of the valley at the lower end of the Gorge de Noailles.

As we walked by we noticed that the church was open and there was due to be a service at 6.15pm – though we didn’t get to it. It was pleasantly cool inside, and there were a couple of unusual statues dating from the 15th century – much older and simpler than we’ve seen in other churches.

On the way up the steep climb from Lods we had been fantasising about what we hoped would be on the hotel’s restaurant menu. Imagine our disappointment to arrive at a closed and locked up hotel with a handwritten message on the door inviting us to call a mobile number when we arrived. We were given instructions on how to find our rooms and told that the restaurant was closed, but there was another restaurant in the village where we could get a meal.

As the other restaurant had looked closed when we walked past we phoned to check, and yes, it was closed, so we called the hotel proprietor again to seek assistance. This time we were advised to go to the epicerie which he said would be closing in 20 minutes, at 7.30, so we dashed up the road. On entering (squeezing past an advertising board) we were informed by a rather disgruntled woman tidying up that the epicerie had closed at 7pm and we should not have entered. With some begging and expressions of sympathy for keeping her at work longer we were allowed to dash round grabbing bottles, smoked trout, salads, cheese and bread to make up supper.

The woman running the epicerie told us it was not the first time that guests at the hotel had resorted to her shop to buy their suppers. We got the impression that she was thoroughly fed up with this, despite the extra trade. We also wondered how the hotel could remain in business if this is how it treats its guests. And why they had not forewarned us that the restaurant was closed as we had told them that we’d be arriving on foot. Had we known we could have brought food from the supermarket in Ornans as it was a relatively short walk and we had extra carrying capacity with Stuart accompanying us.

As there was no suitable space in our rooms to eat we sat on the hotel terrace to enjoy the most unusual supper so far! Whilst we were there a German couple staying at a gite arrived by car hoping to get a meal in the restaurant, so we explained that it was closed (despite the advertising board still out listing the menu du jour) and why we were sitting outside with a picnic. As Stuart said, the evening was certainly memorable, if for all the wrong reasons!

On the plus side, we had a wonderful view along the valley from the small balcony outside our room.

Today’s scenery was some of the best so far, and the escarpments higher up the valley suggest even greater promise for tomorrow. But the most enjoyable part of the day was sharing our experiences with Stuart and the luxury of time to chew over many different topics, thoughts and ideas together.

We were delighted to be joined by Tom’s friend Stuart who arrived last night from the USA via London and Paris. As we had a long day ahead of us we turned in early after a welcoming glass of wine (or two!) in the hotel bar. Annoyingly we were kept awake by people shouting in the street until well after midnight, but we still had to be up early to get going. After breakfast and a detour to the boulangerie to buy some filled rolls for lunch, we joined the VF on the riverbank and followed it around the curve in the river through a lovely park with lots of beautiful mature plane trees.

Gradually the fortifications on the adjacent hilltop came into view and we realised we were going to have to climb up there. The guide books suggest taking a bus or taxi to the top to avoid a difficult start to the day but we thought that would be cheating! In fact, the climb wasn’t too bad, and there were good views back over Besancon giving an excuse for regular pauses.

Towards the top we were greeted by a cyclist from London who said we were the fifth pilgrims he’d seen today and he’d like to take a photograph of us, so we duly posed for a picture. James was very encouraging about our pilgrimage, and generously suggested that we were doing it the proper way on foot. He, poor chap, was having to return to Besancon to get a broken cable repaired.

At the top of the hill is la Chapelle des Buis which was rebuilt in 1860. It is simple and has stunning stained glass windows in a style reminiscent of art nouveau. We were heartened to see a notice inviting pilgrims needing accommodation to call a number for assistance. Though we had pre-booked our lodgings, we were aware that other pilgrims rely on something turning up where they need it so it was good to see help being offered.

From this point the official VF route does a large loop eastwards but, as the day was going to be long anyway, we decided to take a more direct route southwards using country lanes and woodland tracks.

We first had to get across the busy N57 and walk through the village of La Veze, giving us good views of the extensive forest ahead of us. It has been one of the joys of our walk to spend so much time in forests which seem to be valued and cared for by their local communities, and teem with life, particularly birds and butterflies.

Coming upon a woodland shelter and picnic table was too tempting and we stopped for an early lunch. We’ve learned the hard way that some forests are so well kept that there are no fallen tree trunks or log piles to sit on when we want a rest or lunch, so it’s best to grab the opportunity to be comfortable whenever we find a proper seat.

The more direct route we’d opted for brought us out of forest into farmland before entering the village of Tarcenay in the early afternoon. On passing a gentleman working in his garden we asked if he could refill our water bottles for us, and he readily agreed, giving us refreshingly cold water and wishing us bonne route! Our bottles get quite warm during the day, especially the one on the sunny side, and drinking tepid water is somehow not as thirst quenching as cold water, though just getting hold of sufficient water is obviously the main concern.

Rather than take the road direct to Ornans, we decided instead to go over the hill to Foucherans and rejoin the official VF route. Foucherans used to be the end of the day’s walk but as we’d been unable to find accommodation there the plan was to walk on to Ornans, the next place with anywhere to stay. Ironically, as we walked into Foucherans we were accosted by a man in his car who stopped to ask if we needed accommodation and invited us to use his gite! As we had a hotel booked in Ornans we felt we had to turn down his offer and walk on.

Unfortunately we lost our way on the woodland tracks and ended up walking down into a valley, and then having to walk back uphill to rejoin the correct route. It was tiring, but the scenery became more and more spectacular, with limestone ridges giving way to further views along the valley.

Much of the last few kilometres into Ornans was along an old railway line, so it was easy level walking, giving us plenty of opportunity to marvel at the limestone escarpments around us.

As is often the way, our hotel was not on the edge of town and we had to slog our way along pavements with heavy traffic thundering past us to get into the centre. However, on arrival at the hotel we were relieved to be reassured that the owner had noted our request for a quiet room, and we were going to be at the back of the hotel away from the traffic.

After a shower and changing into clean clothes we walked a few yards further down into town to find a bar and restaurant for supper. Ornans is delightful, with a pretty square shaded by trees and space for elderly gentlemen to play petanque, though sadly there were none to be seen!

The highlight of today was being able to share it with Stuart. We enjoyed discussing a wide range of topics, from politics and current affairs to history and morality, as well as gaining a better understanding of what life is like in the USA. It was also much cooler today than it has been, which made the long day easier than it might have been. But we were still very glad to arrive at our destination!

There was a huge thunderstorm last night, and heavy rain overnight, but today has been pleasantly cooler. Fortunately the storm started after we got back from supper in a restaurant around the corner as we’d not taken caghoules with us. Our hotel is comfortable and well situated on a cobbled side street in the old centre of town, so it’s relatively quiet, though we still had to contend with the early morning street cleaner echoing down the street. Those working don’t give a hoot about those still sleeping!

Whilst it’s more comfortable walking in cooler weather, it does make it harder to get our clothes fully dry overnight as radiators are no longer running. However, we have had fans in a couple of places, and they really help with the drying on humid windless days. Our room looks like a laundry with washing line hitched across whatever looks strong enough, but it’s either that or not having regular changes of clothing as we have only one on/one off to keep the weight of our packs down. Wearing anything for more than one day without washing it would be horrible with the amount we’re sweating every day!

Other chores today have included planning our onwards route, because some shortening of otherwise too-long days is necessary, and buying more toothpaste and oranges. We’ve found a couple of places we could go back to for fresh filled rolls in the morning.

Jobs done, it was time for lunch! We found a nice little Thai street food place on a square not far away, and sat outside watching the world go by. Besancon is noticeably more international than many of the towns we’ve been to, both in terms of restaurants and people. It also has a visible community of people begging on the street, so the prosperous city centre with its many international businesses evidently belies some significant social issues.

From a visitor’s perspective the centre of Besancon is very pleasant, with most streets pedestrianised, a tram system, a few cyclists, and only the occasional car. It was also probably quieter today as it’s Monday when many businesses are closed. Window-shopping led us past a fascinating clock shop opposite the horological museum. Besancon is apparently the centre of the French clock-making industry.

Next stop was the cathedral which is approached uphill via one of the very impressive medieval city gates. The current building is in romanesque style dating from the 11th to 13th centuries, a previous wooden structure having burned down. It is unusual in having apses with altars at both the east and west ends, and no transepts. The nave was darker than other cathedrals we’ve seen due to coloured glass in almost all the upper windows.

At the west end there is a very ornate chapel with lots of guilding, and an interesting stone floor mosaic representing the gates into Jerusalem.

The side chapels were also more ornate than most we’ve seen so far. One chapel had a lovely 16th century circular stone altar made of Pyrenean white marble and thought to be the only one remaining in France. It was apparently removed from Besancon’s former second cathedral of St Etienne, which lost out in an historical power battle with the current cathedral of Saint-Jean and had all its treasures removed.

One of the most famous features of the cathedral here is its astrological clock, but very sadly access to it is closed on Mondays and so we had to make do with a poster about it. It apparently shows the time, date, positions of the planets, fete days, and lunar calendar. It’s hard to imagine the intricacy and skill involved in making such an elaborate timepiece.

It only remained to get our pilgrim passports stamped in the tourist office, and have a siesta as this is supposed to be a day of rest rather sightseeing.

Otherwise, we are looking forward to Tom’s friend Stuart arriving from the USA via the TGV later this evening and joining us on the walk for a couple of days. It’s really good to be able to share our experiences with friends.

We chose to stay at the Chateau de la Dame Blanche because there was absolutely nowhere else to stay in the vicinity. The auberge in Cussey was closed down and we needed somewhere between Bucey and Besancon. So, not quite your average billet for pilgrims, but the Chateau was in a convenient location.

When we booked we were told they had a wedding that day and offered a set 5 course supper. Having pondered whether we really wanted that, we decided to go for it, along with the restaurant’s selection of wines by the glass for each course. The whole meal was delicious and beautifully presented, as we’d hoped, and it made up for the lack-lustre meals we’d had on our birthdays at Bar-sur-Aube. Well, that provided an excuse anyway!

The wedding celebration which was taking place at the other end of the building seemed to be a low-key and quiet affair. The restaurant was actually about three quarters full and it seemed pretty much like business as usual.

When we returned to our room in the separate annexe, however, it was far from quiet. The adjacent livery stables were in the middle of a two day event and there was much noise and shouting going on well after eleven o’clock despite our protestations from the upstairs window above them, which were completely ignored. So much for staying in expensive hotels and requesting a quiet room!

It was just as well that breakfast is served later on Sundays, plus when we awoke it was raining, so our enthusiasm to get going was further dampened. One of the weather forecasts suggested the rain would stop by late morning, whilst the other said it would rain until afternoon. We hoped the first one would prove correct.

We finally left just before 11am, after explaining our project to a Swiss couple and assuring them there was no way we could walk the 18 km into Besancon in less than an hour! It was raining lightly as we left in caghoules with rain covers over our rucksacks. However, the rain was persistent, and the drivers determined to soak us some more rather than slow down or go around us. There was a lot of stick waving necessary to keep them at bay. One car actually hit Tom’s lekki pole, so determined was the driver to push through!

Our first opportunity to shelter from the rain was under a motorway bridge. Tom missed the gilet-jaune stencil on the road sign, so keen was he to get under the bridge. It’s the first time we’ve seen any reference to the gilet-jaune movement. Just around the corner our path headed into woods, taking us away from further conflict with car drivers.

By this time we were getting unpleasantly wet and decided to don waterproof trousers as well, soggy though our shorts were by then, so as to keep the insides of our boots dry. After a while, rain running down bare legs gets under gaiters and down into socks and boots! At least we had a good tarmac path to walk on. At about an hour after leaving the hotel we were due for a rest and found a church closed as usual, but at least this one had a small porch we could huddle under.

While Tom was swapping his trousers around the right way, Julie spotted a red squirrel running up a tree and then disappearing over the churchyard wall. Much too quick for a photo! At the same time the rain eased off a bit, giving us a view down the valley.

After walking through the village a further climb up along a railway line with a sheer drop off the other side brought us out into fields and a bridge over the railway, allowing us to head further southwards.

At the railway bridge we stopped for another rest, and decided that as the rain had eased off we would have lunch now. In fact Tom decided to remove his waterproof trousers as well, to really tempt fate! Just before we left a man the other side of the railway seemed to be shouting after his dog, but when no dog appeared and what he was shouting wasn’t what you’d say to a dog we decided to move on quickly.

Half way up the hill there were some young cattle and one was brave enough to allow Tom to swish away the flies around its eyes. The others were just too timid. As the clouds were lifting we began to get a view back to where we’d come from, though the clouds were still too low to identify anywhere specific.

At the top of the hill we passed the cemetery at the edge of the village of Miserey-Salines and dropped down into the village itself. The church, and everything else, was closed.

Down a hill and back up the other side we entered woodland and then a park with labelled specimen trees. Sadly an ash tree had recently fallen across the path and was showing signs of die-back.

By now we were clearly within the suburbia of Besancon, passing Ecole Valentin and then up over the next ridge to Montboucons. From here there was a fabulous panoramic view across Bescancon and beyond. The topography was getting distinctly more pronounced. With the air now quite clear following the morning’s rain, Tom thought he could just about make out the Alps in the very far distance through his binoculars – the distinctive shape of the Matterhorn and the Mont Blanc Massif to the right of it. Difficult to say for definite but it was certainly in the right direction.

There followed a long trudge through a commercial area, including offices of KPMG and Grant Thornton. Why are these names so pervasive?

Onward over ridge after ridge we slowly made our way towards the old city. Some of this was actually quite run down. As we approached the river, however, there was a distinct change for the better.

Then, at last, we crossed the River Doubs into the Boucle, the loop in the river in which the old city and our hotel are located.

High and low points if the day? Well much of the morning passed in a wet and misty haze, which is probably best forgotten. At least it wasn’t cold. As for the highlight, that had to be seeing the Alps for the first time (if that’s what it was).

Last night our hosts delivered a very nice meal for us to eat in our tiny kitchen and stamped our pilgrim passports for us. This morning we enjoyed the novelty of muesli and cups of tea for breakfast, having found a kettle hidden away in a cupboard. A good cup of tea (with fresh milk) is a rare luxury in France.

As today’s walk was relatively short we made a fairly leisurely start, walking up through the village towards the hills behind. Admiring an ancient Renault tractor parked on the side of the street, we were hailed by the owner emerging from his barn store opposite.

On spotting our backpacks he asked where we were going. On telling him he insisted that we wait for a photo and disappeared into his store. Moments later he emerged grasping a cockerel which he promptly placed on his head posing for a photo.

He then proceeded to place the cockerel on Tom’s head!

It’s the gems of encounters like this which make this journey so worthwhile!

On through the village we decided against an additional steep climb up to the church, and instead wound our way through streets of well maintained houses with pretty gardens. The wash house here was as grand and well kept as the one down the road, though this one had a fountain in it.

Further up the road there was a book exchange and a very special bollard protecting an old wall. There is evidently both strong civic pride and ample public funds in Bucey to ensure that it looks attractive.

Climbing up out of the village we spotted some of the vineyards producing the merlot wine we’d been offered at our chambre d’hote in Dampierre. We also had a lovely view back across Bucey and the hills beyond which we’d crossed yesterday.

The initial climb brought us onto a low plateau with arable crops and beautiful views eastwards down another valley. There were also spectacular cloud formations today.

We were then into the cool of a short section of woodland, having passed an aggressive shepherd dog apparently left to mind an orchard. Rather strangely there was a handwritten sign telling us we could phone someone if there were any problems with the dog. Emerging out of the trees we found ourselves on a higher level plateau rolling away into the distance in all directions.

From mid morning onwards we were on good tracks through mixed woodland, which made for very pleasant walking in dappled shade.

As we began to descend into a new valley we passed a group of people setting up a camp under the trees at the end of the tarmac road. We thought nothing of it until we began to pass pairs of pink and white balloons attached to trees at intervals each side of the road.

Eventually curiosity got the better of us as we realised there were labels on the balloons, referring to Association SARAH, a charity set up locally in 2018 to support children with Angelman or Engelmann syndrome. We’d never heard of the condition but it apparently affects the nervous system. Those affected have a small head, with intellectual and developmental disabilities which may result in them being non- verbal and poorly coordinated, as well as suffering seizures. Apart from a characteristic facial appearance, children with this syndrome have a fascination for water and a sunny disposition, but they need care for their near-normal lifespan.

Not far down the hill we found a bench in the shade and, as we would soon be out of the forest, we decided to make use of it for our lunch stop. A very nice lady who was tying pairs of balloons in the trees asked whether we were walking the VF, how far we were going, and whether we needed anything. We thanked her for her interest and reassured her we had all we needed: water and lunch!

Not far down the track we entered the small village of Montboillon which had a fountain and a closed architecturally uninteresting church, but a functioning graveyard tap for water bottle refills. The houses appeared to be mostly well maintained but, as ever, there was almost no one around – just the occasional aggressive dog pursuing us along its garden fence.

From Montboillon we climbed back up to another plateau and wound our way through arable fields until the next valley came into view.

We passed through the unremarkable village of Etuz on the north side of the river, before arriving at Cussey-sur-l’Onignon on the south bank. This was technically the end of the day’s walk but there is no longer any pilgrim accommodation in Cussey, the auberge and boulangerie having closed down since our guide book was written.

As we were making good time and it was hot, we decided to rest a while sitting on the bank of the River Ognon, before continuing on to the next place with accommodation.

The country road out of Cussey took us along the river valley, winding through grass pastures with a few cattle. It was very hot by this stage of the day, with little wind to give us respite from the heat, and even less shade.

As we approached the village of Geneuille there was a very long wall behind which we could see a lot of derelict buildings between us and the river. We eventually worked out that it was an old paper-mill, and this was later confirmed by Tom’s research. What a contrast with the modern buildings of the working paper-mill we’d seen outside Dampierre. It was sad to see such an extensive enterprise just left to decay. It reminded us of the extensive overgrown glasshouses we’d seen on the Island of Guernsey after the tomato growers there lost out to the large-scale growers in Holland.

At this point we turned uphill away from the river to find our accommodation which was in a lovely chateau set in park grounds with beautiful specimen trees. We had a room in a modern annex rather than French chic in the chateau itself.

The hotel is owned by a chef and his family, so supper sounds promising! We decided that as we had indifferent meals on our birthdays we would regard this as a joint birthday meal and hang the expense!

Highlight of the day? Well, supper of course!

Our overnight accommodation at Dampierre, the Au Bon Vivant chambre d’hote, was very comfortable. There were three other guests there including a couple from Lausanne. Conversation over pre-dinner drinks focussed on politics and international relations. The general consensus was that Brexit was a disaster for Britain, France and Switzerland in equal measure. Interestingly, they thought the chances of Britain rejoining the EU soon were high. Don’t we wish!

The ‘official’ VF route from Dampierre to Bucey-les-Gy takes a wide loop well to the north east of the rhumb line. Mindful that this meant a walk of more than 35 km without any particular features of interest, we decided to take a more direct route, but with the River Soane between us and our objective and relatively few crossing points, this was a bit if a challenge.

Retracing our steps back to the centre of town, in view of the ghastly glass high-rise monstrosity, we took the busy D36 eastward out of town. Our host had recommended that we take a riverside route which is ‘tres jolie’ but our thoughts were to minimise distance as much as we could.

Walking along a busy road is not a pleasant experience. Often it seems like the drivers want to cut as close to you as possible at full speed in order to frighten you, or is it to say to us that we’ve inconvenienced them by making them pass around us? Whatever, we’ve worked out that the best strategy is to walk on the right hand side of the road (they really don’t like it if you walk on the left and face the traffic!), and stick a walking pole out when you hear a vehicle coming up behind you, to make them pass wide and clear, or slow up if there is oncoming traffic.

A couple of km short of the turning for Seveux we turned south to follow a deviation of the Saone Navigation just where it emerged from a tunnel. Before turning off the towpath and crossing the Saone itself – a mighty river indeed.

At Seveux we called in at the boulangerie to see if we could find some fresh ‘sandwiches’. Instead we were persuaded to buy some delicious pizza-pasty type things (apparently local speciality). It’s actually more tasty than it looks!

Leaving Seveux we took the Rue des Paquis, a very pleasant country lane following close to the river. Soon we passed a house with all sorts of signs on its fence about polite dogs and ‘mechant’ owners which amused us, especially after our experience at Champlitte. The owner emerged and greeted us, inquiring if we were doing the Via Francigena. Having confirmed that we were, she called her husband and he came running from the garden to greet us. After explaining our project, he gave us each a VF lapel badge. We talked about the absurdity of the ‘official’ VF route to the north and they explained that the route we were taking is much closer to Siguric’s original route. We admired their lovely white and grey border collie with blue eyes. After having our photo taken with her husband we bad farewell and continued on our way. These chance encounters and enthusiasm for our efforts make it all the more worthwhile.

From there we walked on through some interesting mixed farmland before entering the forest.

All the time the temperature remained cool with a slight drizzle every now and again, but not enough to justify caghoules – actually very pleasant conditions for walking.

At the end of the tar road we came upon a picnic area with sit-on tables. Being almost midday we opted for an early lunch stop which was brought to a slightly premature end by the start of more intensive rain.

For most of the rest of the afternoon we walked in caghoules with rain covers over our packs, but the rain never got heavy enough to justify putting on our waterproof trousers as well.

We eventually emerged from the first stretch of forest into more mixed farmland, including small herds of cattle and goats. We even saw a peacock sitting on a window ledge admiring his own reflection, but couldn’t persuade him to show off his feathers to us.

This was Sainte Reine, a very small village of scattered houses and quite a few derelict buildings symptomatic of the depopulation of rural France. However, it had a pretty washhouse, and the only one we’ve seen so far with a drying rack.

Up the road we spied some small trees on a bank providing a little shelter from the rain and decided to have our hourly stop there. It happened to be opposite a farmhouse, and the friendly old dog wandered out to say hello to us, ignoring the owner’s pleas to come back. We exchanged a few words with them both and then asked if we might refill our water bottles. She was busy cleaning out kilner jars which were to be used for preserving ‘haricots’.

After a short bit of track between fields – and a few young bullocks to chat to awhile – we joined the busy D road and followed it into La Chapelle St Quillain. We were due for another hourly break and spotted the church door open, so headed over.

Despite its rather uninteresting exterior, the inside of the church was well maintained, and rather grand and elaborate for a small village church. Sadly we could only admire it through a pair of ornate metal gates, but there was at least a bench in the porch, weary pilgrims for the use of.

We still had about 8kms to go, and set off down another D road before turning off onto a long straight undulating forest track which we then followed south for about 5kms.

After what felt like an eternity – as it always does by late afternoon – we emerged out of the forest and into a new valley bordered by ‘les monts’ of Gy, which Tom reckons looked like a series of limestone escarpments dipping westwards across our southerly horizon.

Just around the corner we saw our first field full of blooming sunflowers, having previously seen only the occasional single flower in a field. Tom was excited to see a swallowtail butterfly which Julie was too slow to photograph. Since his childhood Tom has yearned to see a swallowtail in the wild, and today his wish was granted.

Before reaching Bucey-les-Gy we passed through Vellefrey, which probably has the best preserved lavoire we’ve seen so far. You could see how it would be used as the wooden wash boards were intact and the water supply was functioning.

By now we could hear rumbles of thunder and storm clouds were gathering not far away, so we strode on down the road to find our billet for tonight, keen to avoid getting caught out in another storm at this stage of the day.

Tonight’s lodging is in what appears to have been a granny annex in a converted building in the front yard. It is compact but comfortable, and saves us the additional energy of conversing with our hosts in French all evening. That can be very satisfying but quite tiring at the end of a long day of walking, as we had today.

The highlight of the day was seeing the swallowtail butterfly. Just a pity we didn’t manage to photograph it…

After a long day, a couple of excellent glasses of beer brewed in the Jura, and supper of trout in a very tasty sauce using local cheese, we slept soundly and late. Whilst packing our rucksacks in the morning Hedevika, the young Czech pilgrim we met yesterday, appeared in the street below our window having spent the night in a part-built building outside town. We wished her well with her onward journey.

We made a slow start due to trips to the supermarket and boulanger for more lunch supplies. The church was locked despite signs everywhere about the VF and Siguric.

We then headed out of town, over the river Salon. No trout but plenty of chub. Just after the bridge a car hooted at Tom, and the driver leant out and said in perfect English with a French accent “welcome in Champlitte”. Tom thanked him and said how kind that was.

The mid morning sun was already hot, and we hugged every bit of shade we could find as we headed out into open countryside on the north side of the valley.

On descending the hill into Champlitte la Ville we came upon a flock of sheep enjoying the shade of an ash tree. These were the first sheep we’d seen since the far north of France, and probably explained the white van we’d seen buzzing around with the words “specialiste mouton francois”.

Another locked church maintained with European cultural money left us disappointed. A sign outside promised an interesting 11th century church, but it was not for us to appreciate today.

Further up the hill at the village of Margilley there were many well tended gardens, and a lot of derelict houses interspersed with renovation projects. We had a good view back towards Champlitte and beyond, towards Leffonds and Coublanc.

The minor road we were on wound through rolling fields of mixed arable crops and grass pasture, interspersed with lots of trees, much like yesterday and equally attractive.

We found some unused stands for beehives made out of corrugated metal sheets placed onto concrete blocks in the shade of a stand of false acacias and settled down for lunch and a siesta whilst yesterday’s laundered socks (which hadn’t dried overnight) were laid out in the sun. We were glad for the change of bought tuna salad rolls in place of our usual bread and cheese.

After lunch we passed a field of young cattle who started moving towards us as we came around the corner and were tame enough to let Tom sweep away the flies all around their eyes and noses. Cattle ears do a pretty good job, but a swishing Tilley hat is more effective!

The village of Franois appeared to have two churches, but they were in fact two villages with an impressively large church in the further village. We used the cemetery tap to top up water bottles as we passed, and spent a few minutes hoping a butterfly would land close enough for long enough to get a good photograph. Easier said than done!

Over the river we turned off the road onto a track through fields and woodland, again grateful for every bit of shade.

On a plateau nearing Montot we saw barley fields already harvested and the stubble already ploughed in. Summer is definitely further ahead this far south than at home.

In Montot the church was open, but we had to peer through a barred gate and were therefore unable to appreciate the historically significant features proudly explained in notices in the porch.

In amongst the semi-derelict houses we were amused to see, not for the first time, an old car surrounded by vegetation. Montot seemed to have more than its fair share of old abandoned houses and houses “a vendre”.

On the way out of the village we noticed an old road sign which had not been removed when a new one was put up. With modern driving speeds you wouldn’t stand much chance of reading it, but it must have sufficed perfectly well in the days when people walked or used horses to get about.

From Montot we had a long walk of about 5.5 kms in full sun over high ground before descending into Dampierre. With clouds building ahead of us there was a degree of urgency to get to our destination before the looming storm arrived.

One of the highlights of the day was coming across a male stag beetle which climbed up Tom’s boot and socks but baulked at the vertical unsupported climb up his leg!

Once in Dampierre we were horrified to realise that our accommodation was the other side of town! However, the river and millstream we crossed looked healthy, with lots of waterlillies and chub.

But, we were then confronted with the horror of a tall modern glass hotel and shopping centre, now largely boarded up, standing almost adjacent to a lovely old church. It was so out of place as to be laughable, but for the amount of public money that was probably spent on building it.

Our host later told us that backhanders had been involved and Dampierre has the dubious privilege of having the only glass tower block in the region! We were relieved to arrive at our destination about ten minutes before the thunderstorm hit with torrential rain like yesterday’s storm.

Highlights of the day included very pretty countryside and seeing a stag beetle close up.

We decided to make an early start today as we had a long way to go, so we’d asked for breakfast at 0630. Our hosts were retired farmers and conversation was wide ranging over a delicious supper, which included wild boar shot by our host who is a keen hunter. We can confirm that it is very good to eat! We were all surprised when an English pilgrim turned up at 2115, unannounced, looking for accommodation having left Langres many hours after us.

Our understanding of pilgrim etiquette is that we should be making contact at least 24-48 hours ahead, especially in remote areas where it’s a long way to shops, or you’re going to be staying in private homes. We were a bit embarrassed by a fellow countryman/ pilgrim’s focus on personal flexibility over good manners. Our hostess commented about this in the morning, and we could only agree.

The day started overcast and very humid but relatively cool, with thunderstorms forecast for later. Down the road we passed through the town of Chalindrey, which is a major railway junction with a large maintenance area. It reminded us of Swindon, and seemed equally soulless though not burdened with complex roundabouts. (Apologies to fans of Swindon!)

From Chalindrey we departed from the VF route in favour of more direct roads and tracks – anything to shorten our day! – and struck out across country heading generally southwards.

After all the overnight rain we saw lots of slugs and snails, but fewer butterflies today. One brightly coloured slug was obviously keen to warn off predators!

Agriculture in this area is extensive and more mixed than we’ve seen for a while, with both arable crops and pasture, often in quite small hedge-lined fields, all interspersed with woodlands, making for very attractive scenery. Most of the hay had been safely gathered in before last night’s rain, but a few stragglers were fetching in their roll-ups today.

We found a convenient log beside the road across the valley from Rivieres-le-Bois to sit for lunch. We were joined by a cricket which seemed interested in our rucksacks, hopping from one to the other. The horse-fly interested in Tom’s leg was more problematic and definitely not encouraged to hang around!

Apart from one short sharp shower mid- morning which lasted just long enough for us to get togged up in waterproofs and dig out the backpack covers, we seemed to dodge the showers going on around us.

Indeed, at Maatz the sun finally emerged for the first time today. After refilling water bottles at the churchyard tap and sitting a while in the cool of the church, we set out for Coublanc which should have been the end of the day’s walk but for lack of any accommodation.

Earlier in the day we had met anotherVF pilgrim, a young Czech student, Hedevika, who has been wild camping, living on rice and beans, and covering greater distances than us. She caught up with us again in Coublanc and we walked together across the fields to Leffonds.

By this time there were three big thunderstorms going on around us, with black skies, continual rumbling of thunder, and occasional flashes of lightening. Finally, at Leffonds, our luck ran out and, with a mighty crack of thunder very close by we hastened into the village to look for shelter, diving down into the lavoir (wash house) just as the rain started in earnest.

It then poured with torrential rain and hail, with continually rumbling thunder and the odd crack overhead, for almost an hour. We cowered under the lavoir roof, hoping it was sound, and kept away from the open sides where rain and hail were bouncing in. The trough in the bottom was initially empty but soon filled several inches deep with run-off from the road and the roof.

Once the rain had eased off we got back into our waterproofs and set out on the final 6 kms walk along the road to Champlitte. We realised how fortunate we’d been to arrive in Leffonds when we did because there was no shelter to be had either before or after.

Just as we came into Champlitte a barking dog rushed out of a gate and charged across the road at Tom, who waved it off with both walking poles and appropriate verbal encouragement! We could hear the owner talking to the dog from behind a hedge, but he didn’t have the decency to emerge or apologise. We would like to have suggested he took himself and the dog to the canine training school we’d passed just up the road! We have been bothered by a lot of dogs over the weeks, but most of them have been behind fences, so more annoying than dangerous, but we feel sorry for anyone walking without poles.

About 11 hours after setting out this morning we finally arrived at our hotel, which fortunately also has a restaurant so we will only need to totter downstairs to find supper, thank goodness.

Highlights of the day? Arriving at the end intact if completely exhausted!

There was a good crack of thunder and rain overnight. We woke early to an overcast sky wondering which forecast would turn out to be correct. After an early breakfast we managed to get away just after 8am, and headed out of one of the old city gates towards the lake we’d seen from the ramparts yesterday.

Langres isn’t very big, and within about 20 minutes we were out into farmland. At the bottom of the valley we crossed the Marne, which is very small here – no semblance of the mighty river we’d seen further north.

To get to the lake we were aiming for we then took a tree-lined path alongside the canal between Champagne and Bourgogne which looked little used, except possibly by fishermen, as it was full of weed.

The official VF route goes around the longer eastern side of Lac Liez, so that was the way we went – after a bit of a debate! Fortunately much of the path was shaded by trees, giving us occasional glimpses of the lake, views back to Langres, and the various sporting activities going on, all carefully separated into zones to prevent accidents.

By lunchtime the sky was looking quite thundery and the sun had gone hazy. As we sat beside the lake in the shade we kept feeling small spits of water, and wondered if we were about to get thoroughly soaked. Instead, the sky cleared and we had full sun again for the afternoon.

After lunch we were further away from the lake, though still skirting southwards around it, with rolling pasture and occasional small herds of cattle to our left and dense woodland providing intermittent, but most welcome, shade to our right.

In the village of Chatenay-Vaudin we found the church closed, but a handy cold water tap outside the gate. We’ve been carrying 2 litres of water, and drinking about 4 litres per day during this hot weather, so finding churchyard taps has been vital to avoid chronic dehydration.

On leaving the village we had another choice of route to make: either the more direct road slog, or a longer route by paths over a plateau. Again, we opted for the longer route and were rewarded by our last view back to Langres, now in the far distance, and the occasional tree giving shade across the path.

The area of the plateau is the triple watershed between rivers flowing to the Mediterranean, the Channel, and the North Sea.

So, we are now in the Mediterranean catchment – a significant milestone in our overall journey!

We couldn’t avoid some more road walking towards the end of the day, with about a kilometre along the N9, a very busy National road heavily used by lorries avoiding motorway tolls. They all hammer along at the maximum speed allowed, so we found ourselves keeping well back on the verges for safety whilst enjoying the cooling blast of air from each passing vehicle. With relief we turned off onto a minor road and soon after picked up our path through forest which was lovely and cool.

Apart from one section of uncleared scrub which we had to push and slash our way through, the forest path was good and well marked. After a steep descent into Culmont, we walked up the road through the village to find our chambre d’hote on a farm.

Highlights of the day: lunch beside the lake and crossing the watershed – we are making progress, albeit slowly!

Our billet is very comfortable though the cuisine is indifferent, except for breakfast which was excellent. We were given a family room with both a double and two single beds, and the advantage of windows front and back giving us a much needed through-draught last night. So much so that when the wind got up in the night the interlocking door slammed and must have woken half the hotel!

We woke to fairly heavy rain and someone drilling in the adjacent building which is being renovated. Breakfast and laundry sorted, and the rain having stopped, we headed out to look around and find the cathedral.

Langres is a delightful medieval walled town with cobbled streets, alleyways between curvaceous walls, and mostly closed shops as today is Monday. It is clearly popular with tourists from across Europe. In the past Langres was an important hub for trading routes across Europe and lay at the junction of several Roman roads.

Saint-Mammes cathedral was built from 1150 in one main campaign, so its style is simple romanesque with relatively little later embellishment.

It was notable that many of the culturally important artefacts – tapestries, statues, frescos, reliefs – originated in other ecclesiastical buildings which were damaged, looted, or destroyed during wars or the French Revolution. Two of a set of eight tapestries about the life of St Mammes were made in 1544 and hang in the transepts, and a third is in the Louvre, the other five being now lost.

We particularly liked the striking 16th century high-relief polychrome sculpture of the resurrection of Lazarus (above) which came from Clairvaux Abbey.

The ornate choir screens (one each side of the high altar) were made for the Abbaye de Morimond in 1717 and moved to Langres in 1792. Sadly, as far as we know, this cathedral like others in France has abandoned its historical choral tradition, leaving it to the Protestant churches of the UK and Europe to perpetuate choral polyphony and the training of young choristers.

Wandering in search of somewhere nice to have lunch we came to the old city walls which offer stunning long distance views over the surrounding countryside. We think we’ve worked out where we’re heading next…though the Jura and Alps remain stubbornly well beyond the horizon for now.

Lunch in a popular restaurant adjacent to the statue of Diderot was followed by a futile search for somewhere to buy a replacement adapter to charge our devices as the nifty little one bought online doesn’t work. We will just have to be careful not to lose our one and only functioning adapter! However, we were successful in finding the tourist office and were able to get our pilgrim passports stamped.

In the local tradition we then took a long siesta before applying ourselves to the logistics of the next few days which are, as ever, not straightforward. We have the prospect of two very long days on Wednesday and Friday, but at least the forecast is for cooler weather and the other days are relatively short. We just hope that our stamina will hold out for whatever we can do to shorten the longer days.