Australia has a federal election, and we want our vote to count. So much so that we walk 200 kilometres, following the coast from Calais to the seaside village of Wissant before turning inland and continuing on through the rolling green countryside of northern France to Arras.
Even on the most unremarkable days, you see things walking that would otherwise pass you by. A deer leaping across a woodland track, bronzed pheasants rising up from hedgerows, a peacock in a field shimmying its magnificent iridescent blue and golden green tail to entice a peahen to a dalliance.
The breeze rustles the shimmering leaves. The wind ripples through a field of mauve flax like a gently breaking wave. Strangers wish us well on our journey. On the outskirts of a village, a woman driving a sports car stops and says she hopes the sun is in our favour all the way to Rome.
We follow in the footsteps of those that walked before us. On Roman roads, secret forest paths and dusty, exposed tracks. Past mysterious ruined Abbeys, forest chapels carved out of wood and ancient windmills.
We stay with a contemplative order of nuns at the Notre Dame Abbey in Wisques and in a farmhouse in Amettes with Colette, a renowned maker of conserves, and her husband Jean-Baptiste who is a pigeon fancier.
Our last day before Arras is a brutal one. Forty-two kilometres on asphalt broken only by an occasional green track through parkland or alongside the Scarpe River.
We arrive in time to catch a train to Paris and make it to the Australian Embassy before it closes for the weekend. We each cast a vote for liberty, equality and fraternity. Afterwards, we celebrate with a chocolate eclair, a French take on the ubiquitous Australian democracy sausage*. Vive la France!
(*In Australia, democracy sausage is the name for a barbecued sausage wrapped in a slice of bread and bought at a polling booth sausage sizzle on election day. The sausage sizzle is operated as a fundraiser for the school etc. that is hosting the polling booth.)
The next stage of our journey: Via Francigena: The Western Front.
Go to the start of the journey: Via Francigena: the beginning
Stunning effort to vote. Like the pic of voting with the Tower behind you. And the eclair. Yum. Bet you were glad to get on that train.
Bravo! So pleased to see you in Paris. Let’s hope your votes do the trick.
Bonne marche!
42 kms ouch!! well done to vote . Enjoying your walk with you both x
Thanks Chris. I don’t think we can claim our votes were particularly influential but it’s not every election you get to vote in Paris. xx
Sounds incredible. Enjoy. Been living the shed for two weeks. Every one around me has the dreaded COVID. Ray
Bravo‼️
et oui «Bravo l’Équipe Albo»‼️
I am loving this on going blogging. Feels like we are on the journey with you. sounds wonderful.
I look forward to handing the famous Atlas on to Hamish on the weekend.
Enjoy. xx
Glad to hear you made it in time to vote! But 42 km into Arras. Ouch! I feel your pain. Hope to see you back on the VF!
Thanks Catherine. Looking forward to seeing you both on the VF before too long. Hope the trail is treating you well.
Vive l’equipe Albo, et bonne chemin!