Column: to Rome on foot – part 4

I arrived in Reims on my gums. One of my sticks was also broken within sight of the harbor. I would buy a new one in Reims. That couldn't be a problem, as this town is a famous pilgrimage hub. Pilgrims on their way to Rome, as well as those on their way to Santiago de Compostela, report here in the cathedral for a stamp in their pilgrim passport. People honked and waved at me and a police car pulled up next to me and the occupants politely asked if they could do anything for me. That did me good.

Habited world

When I arrived in the center, on the Place Drouet d'Erlon, I had the idea that I had finally returned to civilization after a long time. After Brussels, I had walked through deserted areas for two weeks. The north of France, in particular, was an extinct sight. Dead villages without any provision. I struggled to find a roof over my head every night. At a certain point I had the owner of one chambre d'hôte call a colleague 20 kilometers away in the morning, so that I was assured of a bed for that evening.

Discount on a hotel room

Anyway, Reims was buzzing with life. The square was surrounded by terraces for hotels and restaurants. In the center a fountain spouted splashing water, blue and pink flowers rose their cups from flower boxes. I went to a hotel recommended to me in my travel guide. It looked chic, a lovely heated patio out front, wood paneling and carpeting inside.

A young guy spoke to me and asked 70 euros for a room. I immediately burst out sobbing. I was so tired that I couldn't take anything anymore. I told them that I was a pilgrim and it was impossible for me to pay such an amount every night. He took off 20 euros and I had a room. I was very happy because I wanted to stay here a little longer to get my story.

I went to report to the cathedral. There was a committee of reception ready for all pilgrims. I got a stamp in my pilgrim passport. It is the intention that you have a stamp in the passport at every overnight stay, as proof that you have been there.

Champagne and oysters

I thought it was time to treat myself. I looked for a table on the terrace of my hotel and ordered a glass of champagne with oysters. I enjoyed watching life on the square; I was satisfied. But not for very long. At one o'clock at night I asked for a new room. Mine reeked of sausage and all sorts of other food smells coming from the courtyard kitchen for an hour in the wind. At first I had tried to get over it, then I had grown excited, and finally I had stormed down. Much to my relief, I was immediately given another room.

The next day, women were sitting in the street selling lilies of the valley, a May 1st tradition in France that I was unfamiliar with. I bought a new stick and went to see the beautiful Chagall windows in the cathedral. I also went to the exhibition of a Japanese impressionist. But it was inevitable Monday, the day that I would continue my journey. After all, I still had to walk all the way to Rome. Somewhat rested and recharged, I left this safe haven behind and moved into the Champagne area.

To be continued…