Calais to Arras- Keeping My Feet Under Me

7/20-28


238.8 km from Canterbury


Whew! I made it to Arras France! This leg of the trip has shown me some difficult times as I'm still getting used to walking with 40lbs every day.

On Wednesday morning I woke early and walked along the white cliffs of Dover to the ferry docks.

Security was in full force as the attack in Nice had only happened a few days prior. The lines to get on the ferry for vehicles had to have been around 2 hours long! Luckily, as a walk-on, I was able to catch a bus with two others right onto the ferry and was able to establish my post on the rear deck before anyone else boarded.

The channel ferries

Dover Castle

 

The day before I was able to see dark smudges on the horizon of France from Dover Castle but today, even though there was hardly a cloud in the sky, I couldn't see the continent. This led me to believe that the channel is bigger than it actually is, a belief which was rectified the next day. Several seagulls accompanied us on our ferry, coasting in the draft of our boat, just enjoying the ride.

Entering the Channel

The breezy back deck looking at the cliffs of Dover

The ferry ride was quick, taking only 60-90 minutes to cross the channel.

Entering the marina in Calais

Very modern Calais

Once I got to Calais, I stopped to get some food supplies for the next few days and set off. Sigeric's original route went through the town of Wissant as it was the central hub across the channel at that time. It is likely the port from which the Romans launched their attack on England 2000 years ago! Throughout the years the harbor has silted up, and now Wissant is a smaller beach town while the boats and ferries dock in Calais. Unfortunately, I had 20 kilometers to cover that day and was starting pretty late after the crossing, so I was not able to explore Calais at all.

Though I had heard that the old town had been destroyed in the two wars, I still harbored an interest in the city after taking a Tudor history course with my adviser in college. The part of the town I did see was quite modern and catered to residents of the city and beachgoers.

Hundreds of little beach huts

The first several kilometers I walked next to and on the beach. This, in theory, sounds amazing, and at first, I was very excited, even taking off my hiking boots to swap them out for my sandals, but the reality of walking in fine sand with not only my body weight but also the added weight of a pack stymied my excitement quickly. It was a very laborious first 10 kilometers, to say the least! But the temperature was perfect, it was windy and sunny, the beachgoers were enjoying life, and the happiness was infectious.

Before my excitement in the novelty of hiking on the beach waned

WWII bunkers

After walking on the beach for a while, I entered grassy dunes. The dunes ended up being not much better for walking, but finally, after several kilometers, I entered a town called Sangatte and started climbing inland uphill.

Path entering the dunes

Leaving Sangatte and turning inland

Looking back towards the Channel and Sangatte

When I reached the top, I could see the cliffs of Dover quite easily on the horizon which surprised me as I had thought England was further away.

Hey look, there's England!

Very clear

At the very top of the hill was the Dover patrol memorial- a pillar of concrete towering over the beaches below. I rested at the top and was pulling my shoes and socks off hoping to ease my blistered and aching feet when I met a sheepherder named Claire who offered me a place to stay the night along with a lovely dinner and breakfast! She spoke excellent English, much better than my abysmal French. Her two sheepdogs were sweet and adorable as well, and I left the next morning feeling much better.

Dover Patrol Monument

I swear this hill was doubly brutal than it looks

The second morning I walked along the beaches to Wissant for 5 kilometers. These were much easier to walk on as they were wet and hard packed.

The cliffs I walked beneath were stunning, and I could still see the white cliffs of Dover. From Wissant, I began to trek inland.

Much easier to walk on!!

Signs like these excite and distress me- "wait, but only 2080 kms..."

Beautiful field of poppies looking over the Channel

Tiny French towns

About 15 kilometers in, I climbed another hill that had several intact concrete bunkers from WWII which I could walk in and explore. They had two staircases facing each other down into the bunker and a big room with a doorway leading into the "viewing" room. You could see the coastline and ocean through the view-holes and imagine the fear of being in one of these small concrete rooms while being bombed and shot.

The view towards the ocean, a taller person would see even more :)

One of the stairwells leading down

A date on the stairwell

During the next few days, I walked through the French countryside, mostly between fields and through small young forests. The land is similar to the British portion though it seemed a bit more open with even more patchwork farmland.

Very typical scenery during the day

The Via Francigena is indeed a fledgling route! Most of the time I walk I don't see anyone else although when I get to actual roads and towns, I do. Even then, most of the towns I pass through in northern France are extremely small, usually 20 houses and if it's a "bigger" town it might have a small Romanesque Church and one boulangerie (bakery) which will inevitably not be open...

French fairytale house

Even though my French is not very strong and most people don't speak English very well I find that I can communicate sparingly with the locals, many of whom are quite interested in where I am walking to and with such a big backpack! Much of the time goes by quickly while I walk. I find myself thinking about the oddest things, thoughts of my future and what I want to do with my life will suddenly be supplanted by funny quotes from movies, and I'll find myself chuckling quietly, probably looking very much like a madwoman trudging along-- albeit a grinning one.

French people take their cats everywhere! Camping, for walks, to restaurants!

When I arrived at the small town of Tournehem-sur-la-Hem I sat down at the only open cafe and relaxed, sipping on a cappuccino (I was soon to realize that in France, cappuccinos can take any number of forms; here it was coffee with whipped cream on top, though I also have received mochas, espresso with foam and lattes- needless to say, I have begun ordering cafe au lait and saving the cappuccinos for Italy). In the main square, there was a deserted carnival scene that promised summer fun later. The owner of the cafe, Marie, was excited to have a pilgrim and asked me to sign her guestbook. Reading through some of the other entries I saw that she'd had maybe five other Via Francigena pilgrims this year stop by! That night I camped in a fallow field at the top of the hill overlooking Tournehem. It was probably my favorite campsite so far and ended up being a lovely evening with a beautiful sunset.

Cute little campsite overlooking the town

Beautiful sunset that night

An abandoned windmill

All the churches in these small French town were stout Romanesque buildings

I soon realized that most people this far north didn't know anything about the Via Francigena. There are very few places to stay that are cheap so most of the time I either wild camp or camp at a campsite. The signage is also pretty spotty in France, in one region it's quite good while in two other regions it won't be signposted at all! I did come across this gem though!

Another exciting sign- I'm pretty sure these distances were as the crow flies

Hey look! There it is!!!

The next day I walked to the deceptively small town of Wisques. With a population of 250 people, Wisques also is home to two large Benedictine abbeys. Saint Paul's Abbey for monks and the Abbey of Notre Dame for nuns. I was able to arrange accommodation at Notre Dame and met my first fellow Via Francigena pilgrims! Nick and Jessica are two lovely young Texans who left their homes to gain perspective and travel Europe at the same time.

The nuns were incredibly sweet, and even though we couldn't understand each other very well we all managed to communicate-- Although I do have to say it was nice talking with some fellow English speakers even if it was just for a night!

A fuzzy friend– Oh god let me love you!

Abbey of Notre Dame in Wisques

The next day I had a very long day of 32 km. The morning went by very fast, was cool and quite interesting while the afternoon and evening were hot, muggy, painful and tiring!



At noon I arrived in Thérouanne. This rather small city now used to be home to the largest bishopric in France. It had a history as a capital city in Gaul and in Rome. Thérouanne's history would forever be changed in 1553 when King Charles V of Spain conquered the city and razed it to the ground. The town never recovered and remains quite a small city today. As I was walking in, there was a little sign about an archaeological site. I followed it curiously because I had been told that literally, nothing remained after Charles besieged the town. I walked up to where the old cathedral had been before 1553. Never has such a small amount of view-able history fascinated me so much. It was the complete lack of artifacts that I found so interesting!

Map of the city in 1539

Map of the city now- the whole old city is still empty!

"Vestiges"...

The cathedral that had stood proudly above Thérouanne had been obliterated, and hardly anything remained for me to see. The pictures of Thérouanne in 1553 and today show that the modern town grew up ringing the area where the old town was but didn't build in it. It was fascinating!

Less distinct "vestiges" of the cathedral

The next day took a turn for the worse! I had pushed myself hard the day before, and my feet were so beaten and weary (as was my body) that I could not move faster than a slumpy trudge. After an excruciating walk to Bruay-la-Buissière, I realized I needed a few days off, and I needed them immediately. I decided to take a bus to Arras from Bruay. I hope you'll all forgive me even though this felt like cheating; I reasoned it with myself in that it was only 35 km and would not overly affect the basis for my pilgrimage. (Although karma demanded something in return... I missed the Abbey of Mont-Saint-Éloi. This beautiful and picturesque ruin was once a powerful religious center established in the 7th century.)

When I arrived in Bruay, I couldn't find any place with wifi to find a way to Arras, and I was in dire need of a bathroom. My feet were dying, and I just needed to find a way to Arras. Finally, the stress of it all became too much, and I found myself sitting in a park having a much-needed cry. Afterward, I felt better and managed to find a bar with wifi. There, a very helpful man named Henry helped me figure out a way to Arras, he even called several hotels looking for accommodation for me and paid for my cappuccino (this time a latte)! I had somehow managed to make friends with Henry, the barkeeper, and a fellow customer and once I had everything figured out I was escorted to the bus station with an armed guard determined to help me get to Arras!

I arrived in Arras and decided to stay two days to explore and recuperate. I had a much-needed phone call home and a much-needed shower!

and a delicious Belgian waffle...

So many temptations!!

Arras is a strange and fascinating French city. Walking into Place des Héroes and the Grand Place (the two main squares) it looks like I've stepped into a Belgian town.

It was market day in the Place des Heroes

Summer beach festival

In the Grand Place, they even had a summer beach/adventure festival which was precisely like the festival in Louvain-la-Neuve in Belgium where I spent a summer at an archaeology dig.

The reason for Arras' similarity to Belgium is because, throughout its history, Arras has been on the border between the two nations and has been part of each one before it officially became French.



First I visited the Cathedral Norte-Dame-et-Saint-Vaast. It is Neoclassical in style and reminds me more of a Roman temple than a Church. It is large, statuesque and powerful. The cathedral was heavily bombed in WWI and WWII, and you can still see some war damage in some of the stones.

Very light interior

A map with the different pilgrimage routes through Europe

Next I explored the town hall and walked up the 75-meter belfry which had amazing views all around Arras.

View from belfry overlooking the cathedral

Place des Héros

Grand Place

Giant traditional carnival people- you can see the face hole for the performers!

Afterward, I took a guided tour down into the Boves underneath Place des Héros. The Boves were initially limestone quarries that were used in medieval times for building materials. These quarries had an extensive network underneath Arras, and after they were retired, they were used as storage space for the merchants of the city.

The entrance into the Boves

The guide told us not to get lost!

Pictures of WWI

When we went down every so often we could hear what sounded like a wayward door banging on its hinges in a damp, dank wind– the stuff of nightmares and Goosebumps novels essentially. I asked our guide about the noise because it was definitely creepy and she laughed and said that it was the cars above us whenever they drove over a metal grate! After the 17th the quarries were deserted until WWI and WWII.

A 13th century staircase... we weren't allowed up

During WWI, Arras was on the front lines of defense for the whole war. The entire city was destroyed and has been rebuilt.

Cathedral after WWI

Place des Heroes after WWI

Place des Heroes now

The townhall and belfry after WWI

Townhall and the belfry now

During the war, Arras was mostly a town of young Commonwealth soldiers although a few civilians did stay in the town. In a very successful surprise attack against the Germans, camped out on their front a few miles away, the Commonwealth army used the quarries of Arras to transport troops. They brought in 500 New Zealand miners to connect several quarries with 20 kilometers of tunnels. When the New Zealanders had finished, they named the different areas after cities in New Zealand such as Christchurch, Auckland, and Wellington.

When I visited the Wellington Quarry, they had an amazing and eye-opening video showing the soldiers in the Battle of Arras.

Down in the quarry they had a live immersive experience, we even got to wear helmets!

Ready to go underground

The museum showed lots of photos and belongings of the Commonwealth soldiers, and it was quite a weighty experience-- The soldiers were so young and inexperienced, and most of them died.

A WWI commonwealth soldier's kit

They are all so young

In the quarries, you could see the mazes in the stone that the Commonwealth soldiers used as workplaces, bathrooms, bedrooms, chapel and living place. The markings in black were from the WWI soldiers and miners. Later, in WWII the quarries were used as a bomb shelter by civilians, and the red markings are from WWII.

The decimation of Arras in WWI

Our guide kept a very close eye on us so none of us could get lost!

French civilians called the bathrooms W.C.

Commonwealth soldiers called the bathrooms latrines

Sometimes they were covering and contradicting each other

Arras was the "bulge" in the front that Germany could not break

There were films with diary entries and pictures of soldiers

People's signatures and graffiti on the walls

The "chapel" that was used for the soldiers and then the people of Arras

Officer's quarters

Pencil drawing of a man with a mustache

More pencil drawings, a woman's face and an Australian soldier

A mammoth... haha silly neanderthals

Tunnel to Auckland quarry

What the soldiers bunks would have been like

The tunnels led to the No Man's Land between the French and German trenches and at 5:30 on April 9, 1917, the Commonwealth soldiers attacked the Germans and pushed them back.

The entry into No Man's Land

The last place I visited the museum of fine arts which had a few pieces I rather enjoyed.

A fantastically grisly and horrific tombstone

I love old maps

... and models

The assassination of Caesar... but my favorite part...

I think we can all understand this face! It's fantastic!

Very realistic tombstone

One of my favorite painters, Pieter Bruegel the Elder, had done this winter country scene. The things I love about his paintings are the details and portrayals of real life. The was done in the mid 16th century, and you can see the ruins of a castle in the background as well as a snowball fight and people carrying hay. It is a little slice of Renaissance Flemish life.

Ruins of an abandoned castle

I think these are snow shovels they're using as sleds! hehehe

What is a winter scene without an epic snowball battle?

My last night in Arras I splurged and went out for a nice dinner. I had rabbit with veggies and potatoes, and it was pure blissful decadence!!

It rained my last night and I went out afterwards to get some nice pictures of the town glistening.

I am feeling much more rested and ready to head off on my next leg. Tomorrow I leave for my next leg of the trip I will update you all in Laon!