VF Britannica Via Campaniensis Voie de Vezelay 2025

What a marvelous way to start the day.  Our hostess made just about everything on the table. The bread, the apple juice, the 4 apple tarts including the crust, the raspberry rhubarb fig and plum jams, the yoghurt. The evening before the house smelled deliciously of the apples she was processing. Oh, and all the apples and fruit for the jams were from her own garden.

Getting Rawley ready for the day. He had to stay under the covered deck for the night. Our shoes were all pretty muddy so we left them out too.

We had basically only got as far as going out the gate when Ken decided to change jackets. Sheesh.

I am fascinated by the Chateau de Montmart-Lucy for some reason.

Ken spends time each day looking for the “optimal” bench. In the shade with a view and a beer. This apparently was a “sub-optimal” bench.

Pretty small calves for late September. I noticed on my last trip to the region that these white cows are the most common here.

Most of the day was on farm track or tiny road, with a little bit of “grinder” walking (Peter’s term for busy roads).

Yay! An optimal bench! No beer though.

DO NOT TOUCH! For my forestry friends, France and Spain have an issue with processional caterpillars, so called because they march in single file. They are quite dangerous because their hairs are exceedingly irritating and can cause respiratory illness in humans and animals. These are traps for the caterpillars.

We thought the upside down sign was pretty funny but found out later that hanging town signs upside down is a common anti-government austerity protest thing.

Towns with no shops will often have a baguette distributeur. Baguettes are replenished early every morning so the baguettes are fresh. About $2 each. Some of the older ones are coins only and some take cards.

We’ve noticed that England was very much a card society. Even if you were only buying something worth 2 pounds, they expected you to pay with a card. But France seems to still prefer cash, especially taxis.

Stuffing his face with baguette.

Ancient grape press for wine.

These shutter stoppers are little ladies. Look closely to see them on the house.

Eoropean hornet, size of a loonie. Scary.

Mistletoe balls, slowly killing the tree.

Massive apple orchards, fruit is already starting to fall.  We’ve noticed here and in the UK fruit trees everywhere with rotting fruit on the ground, individual trees and sometimes the commercial orchards. Apples, pears, even peaches.  Such a waste.

Over another hill crest and back into vineyards again.   We can actually see in the very far distance the WW1 Monument we are walking towards.

Very large rosehip.

Ken was excited to see a bunch of guys out for a fun little ride on a bunch of fun little Honda type bikes. Brought a smile to Ken’s grouchy face. (Peter is way in the back)

We see these small poplar plantations everywhere.

Sad that this coat arms for the Chateau is barely legible anymore.

Our B&B for the night. Aupres de l’eglise in Oyes.

Rawley getting a much needed bath as his wheels were totally mucked up.

These birch trees were planted about 20 years ago. We were admiring how brightly white they were when we found its because the owner “washes” them. The birches were a brilliant idea for the courtyard.   Hmmm. Giving me ideas. Ken hates when I get ideas!

Being inspected by the cat in the farmyard across the street. I think I was not passing muster 😜.

The rooster woke up at 300 am.  Why????

Pieces of monuments in the graveyard whose origins are unknown.

Our dinner table. Chicken and couscous and salad and duck confit pie and plum cake.   Mmmmm. 

Feast in the morning and feast in the evening. It doesn’t get better than this!

1 loose excited happy dog, 1 quiet dog, 3 barkers.

Quote of the day from Ken to me:  You are indefatigable. Too bad you are also a little fatigable, as he patted my stomach.

You can visit Ken in the village cemetiere.

These people are obviously very worried about their security, given their locked door and gate. Too bad they forgot the fence part.

Given that we were on the north end of Epernay (to be close to the train station), and that we hate walking city streets, and our day would have been over 30 km, we decided to taxi to where we would re-connect with the Via. We were ecstatic to see that the church where we were getting dropped off was near the top of a steep hill, although there is ALWAYS more hill!

The ancient door handle on the church (Eglise St Martin de Chavon) was in the shape of the Camino shell.

Came upon this wooden bench with a view, and someone hung an empty picture frame at the viewpoint.

Not sure what this little grotto was for. There is a small room off to one side filled with a pile of branches. There was also a niche with a candle and a figure, which I assumed would the Virgin Mary as I climbed down to the grotto.  But…I am pretty sure she did not look like that!

This boy was soooo excited to see us, racing back and forth barking. We chatted with his owner for a bit. I forgot to ask the dog’s name.

In just over 2 km we hit this small park at the edge of the hill. It was so lovely we spent about sn hour there even though we’d only been walking for a short time.

It even flushed!

Stealth cat…

Friendly cat…

Peter misses his two black kitties.

We’re thankful for the Camino app GPS tracks and data on our phones.

Very furry and about 3 inches long.

After the most beautiful walking on the crest of the vineyards, we hit some of the worst trail in all of our walks over the years. It was completely rutted and dug up, difficult when just walking but I have to give Ken credit for getting the trolley through.   It was at least two hours or more of grueling track. We weren’t sure if it was mechanical or the wild boars rooting around, although we think boars based on the randomness of the ruts.  But we were sure we were exhausted by the time we hit road.

There were piles of corn on the track.  Since there’s no corn fields around, we can only assume it was deliberately placed there. Kindness? Or more nefarious deer or boar baiting?

So tired and sadly out of water. Not good.

The Bugsnax came out to play.

Does Scott even notice Strawbie is on his head?

We came upon this huge granite bench on the trail beside a lake and couldn’t figure out why it was there. Then I noticed a similar slab tucked away in the bush.  That one was a family grave stone. I’ll have to research it.

Le barky chien behind a fence.

I could have this house.

In 2022, after I hurt my foot and our walk ended, we rented a car. I remember Ken coming down a hill with a turn at the bottom  and snapping a quick photo of a huge chateau with two massive lions guarding the gate. Very cool to see it again. The photos don’t show just how tall it is

Apparently a castle has been on this site from the 11th century, this building is from the 16th.  The Germany army headquarters were here during WW1 during the First Battle of the Marne (note the Germans retreated).

Liberation 1944. The wars are still very fresh and very real here.

Waiting for Peter. We had to climb a horrendously long and steep hill at the end of a very tiring day, only to find the only place to get food was closed. Then we had to go back down the hill for 1.5 km and up again to our Chambres d’hote. Heavy sigh. Massive crankiness ensued. Did I mention the horrendous hill? If we’d known the restaurant was closed (google said it was open and so did their website) we could have stayed on the flats and avoided the nasty hill. Did I mention the horrendous hill?

We are at a great Chambres d’Hôtes (like a B&B).  And yay. The restaurant opened at 600 pm and they deliver (our hostess phoned the order in for us). No need to send Scott, I mean, politely and respectfully ask Scott to go back up the mountain for food, glorious food (there was no place for food or water all day).  There is always potable water in the cemeteries but we didn’t see one of them either. At least we now have leftovers for lunch tomorrow.

Another random thought from the other day. This is an interactive game where you are asked a skill testing question.

We walked through a lot of mature oak forests and the acorns were falling like rain. Imagine my secret wish coming true when an acorn bounced off Ken’s head (hee hee 🤣).  But don’t worry. I am not completely callous. I was very sympathetic…to the 🌰.   The skill testing question – sympathetic to which nut???

We left our farm gite, tiptoeing past the sleeping goats, and loved the fact that it was a downhill start. Not that it lasted but you learn to appreciate the small things.

And just as awesome (not!) is listening to the two little boys squabbling over who knows what. 

“Mom, Ken called me a…”

“Terry, Scott said I was a…”

I choose to ignore them.

This guy was at least 3 inches across.  Ken took him outside to live in the garden where spiders belong. Glad it didn’t walk across my pillow.

I love these girls, although I still don’t know what happened to the rest of their legs.

Ancient flail. They were used to beat the grain to remove the husks. You can watch on YouTube  – tremendously labour intensive.

Scott tried picking fruit from the pear tree (permission granted by owner) on the walk down the drive.

Ken tried to repeat his thrill of throwing rotten apples at me on the 2019 Camino by tossing rotten pears at me today.  Sure, Ken. That’s the way to get a girl’s attention. (The pear is the yellow ball hanging on the road)

These old lavoirs (community wash houses) are scattered through France. Some are a few hundred years old  this one is only from 1900.  Aptly named St. Therese.

First friendly kitty

Photos never do justice to the steepness of the hill.

Another lavoir  this time decorated for…not sure what.

At this point, Ken started running away in the opposite direction.  I had to explain to a confused Scott that this was normal behavior for Ken. He smells coffee or sees a cafe sign and rushes towards it, forgetting that he’s with other people. Gotta. Have.My.Coffee.

But we found these kitty cookies at the tiny store beside the cafe.

Do not collect the mushrooms!

Picnic time! No mushrooms were picked in the making of this photo.

There were fish actually jumping out of the water in this pond. But oddly, there were no ducks.

Look at the size of this thing!

Ken hates pretentiousness…so he put on his best hillbilly hat while sitting on the sign for the Royal Champagne Hotel and Spa. I am so…um…proud?

What a view!

Another ancient find, made by a blacksmith. Any ideas?

29 degrees today. We are all a little sunburned. This small tabak/cafe was a welcome spot for a cold drink although, really, I was just trying to photograph the VW van.

Scott said he would buy Ken the baby chainsaw. It even makes realistic noises.

That is one heckuva big plane tree.

The Marne. So many battles.

Take a 30 minute train ride back-to-back Reims to pick up Peter. Taxi was 15 minutes late but he still made it on time. But the lady taxi driver didn’t charge him.  It was only 1.6 km.  Peter had to bring Rawley the Trawley, as we had left him with Peter to save Ken pushing it over the mountain.

Such a warm welcome to the hotel. Wierd people hanging out the windows. Maybe we should go to a different hotel.

That dent in the van is a painting, not an actual dent.

Walking man.

Gourmet French cuisine!

I forgot to add this picture yesterday.  Me at the “Flagpole of Doom”, where I took my tumble (I blame Ken) which ended our 2022 journey a tad early.

Quote of the day: I can’t see the view, Ken, through the red mist of rage.  This was a reaction to Ken’s response to Scott when Scott asked if Ken thought I would be an evil mother-in-law.

And last, I had left a small dream catcher gift at the hotel for Lisa, who had been so helpful when I hurt my leg. She is still working at the hotel but wasn’t on shift when we were there but was for Peter’s last day. She gifted us this specialty of Reims, which I really wanted to try but didn’t want to carry.  Rose meringue cookies. Oh well. Unfortunately you can’t really see the delicate pink colour in the photo. Thanks, Lisa!!!

Peter has stayed behind to give his feet a break as we knew today had some long climbs over the “mountains of Reims”. With a park, a grocery and McDonald’s across the street, he’s well set up.  I’ll be going back to pick him up by train on the 19th.

Off we go. The Via Campaniensis follows the Via Francigena for the first several kilometers, so familiar footsteps 👣 for Ken and me.

Scott and Ken donning their desert gear preparatory to crossing the vast vineyard wasteland.

Our first French dog behind a fence. Last time on the VF we were barked at by an average of 11 dogs per day (yes, Ken counted). A few were friendly, most had more teeth than body, some waited stealthily until you were right beside them and then they would throw themselves against the fence at you, giving you a heart attack. This one was suspiciously quiet.

Mailbox, AED, library and fresh baguette dispenser all in an 8 foot square. Alas, Ken had no coins for the baguettes.

High narrow tractors for plowing between the grape vines.

Peter and I drive Ken nuts because we are always picking up rocks. But this is no rock. Extremely heavy, round ball. Could be a projectile of some sort.

We are in serious champagne country. Too bad none of us care for champagne. Don’t tell the French!

There is a lot of wealth in this village.  I could have this house.

Ken stays cool by wearing a wet face cloth on his head. I don’t think the rubber duckies were too pleased with him.

City hall. The village of Rilly-de-Montagne is impeccable and filled with flowers, although Scott asked why I came all the way to France to see petunias and geraniums.

We ran across a monument commemorating the bombing of the railway tunnel in this town that was being used as a V1 launch site by the Germans. The RAF Dambusters Squadron 617 were specialists in precision bombing and used the 12000 lb Tall Boy bombs to destroy this site. The RAF lost two Lancaster bombers and crew. (Scott and Peter’s grandfather Lloyd loaded bombs onto Lancasters during the war.)  Look peaceful now but I’m sure it was a horrific mess after the bombings. Brutal job but necessary.  We left Remembrance Day poppies as a sign of our thanks.

The railway tunnel as it looks today. Our trail over the mountain follows the train tunnel below us.

Ken says this looks like me. 😠

Insect house. I need to build one of these, Ken. Wait…let me clarify.  Ken, you need to build me one of these.

Isn’t he handsome with his…um…hat?

Stunning view from the top, looking back on Reims Cathedral about 10 km away by road. The tall red and white tower to the left is across the street from our hotel.

Look closely for the tiny yellow Ken climbing the steep hill. I stayed on the main trail.

Rampaging French wilde-beagle.  His hooman was nearby chainsawing some logs.

Scott also takes the straight-line shortcuts but they are too steep and I prefer the gentle trail.

Our first Camino shell. We’ll follow these to Vezelay and on to St Jean Pied de Port.

Walked through an area where they are select harvesting hardwoods, mostly oak. As a forester, I have to say they are doing a great job of it.

Always a happy moment, knowing you’ve arrived at your bed for the night.

We had a welcoming committee!

These two pregnant goats had the shortest little legs. They just wandered everywhere. There were gates across the stairways otherwise they would climb into our rooms.

And horses too! To be expected when your gite is called “The pasture”.

Today was a great day, beautiful weather, actually found an open restaurant for lunch (which can be a rarity in France), and varied terrain…and cute goats at the end (including Ken 🐐 😁). Off to Epernay in the morning.

We have sentimental feelings towards Reims and even to the Hotel Campanile Reims Sud – Bezannes. This is where our Via Francigena ended in 2022 when I fell off my bike and badly injured my foot. We had to go home.  I blame it all on Ken and his insistence on going to McDonald’s.  Two ladies at the hotel took such good care of me.  On a happier note, we returned in 2023 to Reims to the same hotel and the same “flag pole of doom” and completed our walk through France, over the Great St Bernard Pass in Switzerland, and down through Italy to Rome. And here we are again, same town, same hotel, planning a 1300 km stroll from Reims to St Jean Pied de Port in the south of France, where we began our 800 km Camino de Santiago.

I blame Ken

First things first. Let’s mail some stuff home. LaPoste has a pretty slick system. You buy the box, stuff it with junk, scan it, and then do everything on a giant screen, which offers several language choices.  9 pounds less to carry.

The smiling angel is very famous as she is the only smiling angel on any cathedral anywhere. They are usually very morose and stern. I admit she makes me smile too.

A candle for dear Ethel.

The pilgrim desk, where you can get your pilgrim stamp and information on the Via Francigena (been there done that 😁) or the Via Campaniensis (gulp, here we come 👣). 

I had trouble explaining that I wanted a Via Francigena stamp in one credential to signify the end of the walk from London to Reims on the VF and a Via Campaniensis stamp in the Camino de Santiago booklet to start the VC.  She was also very helpfully trying to find us a hotel room and I couldn’t convince her we already had one.

Our stamps thus far.

How could we not eat poutine at a Canadian restaurant called Oh Caribou???

Cheese squeakers in France are called fromage skouik-skouik.  Which is what I will be calling squeakers from now on.

Ah, yes. Touring the local laundromat is always fun, as is deciphering the French instructions on how to use the machines.

What happy little guitars! 🙂

This was a life size dog painting…pointing at the tires of a parked car. No clue why.

Great. Happy happy joy joy. A car museum.

Peter stayed at the hotel for the day. Two large blisters healed and the third getting there. He doesn’t seem to mind being on his own with his electronics for the day.

Major packing for the next day…which involved a lot of…where the heck is my (insert anything here).

We officially begin our French walk tomorrow.

Up at 6:30 am (waaaah!) for our taxi to Folkestone and the chunnel train (LeShuttle) to Calais, not regretting canceling the ferry one little iota.  It is quite the process taking the train, very much like catching a ferry, except you go through British customs and then French border control for your passport stamp.  You drive onto the train in your vehicle and eventually move through the tunnel. It’s only about 30 minutes.

Norman Guest House.

On LeShuttle. There was an electric Tesla 2 cars ahead of us and it’s owners left to find a bathroom. She was very cranky as she couldn’t find one and didn’t know how to open the doors between the cars so she made her husband come help.   But the train started to move and the Tesla thought it was being stolen so it started honking and flashing and playing loud music. Very funny if somewhat annoying.

The Burghers of Calais by Rodin (the guy who made “The Thinker – Le Penseur). Peter had studied these guys in his art history class, so it was cool to see them in reality. The story is that these 6 men offered their lives to the English king (14th century) in exchange for the lifting of an 11 month siege of the city.

Peter 3D printed this little Bugsnax  – Bungher – half burger, half dung beetle – specifically for a photo op with Burghers.  You can see a little dot by the feet on the photo above.c

Calais town hall. Calais was heavily bombed during the war but towers tended to be kept intact as observation towers. It is breathtaking

Pretty small tow truck.

This garden was made to look like a peacock.

City of Laon on top of the hill, photo taken from a taxi doing 130 km / hour. Ken and I had to climb it in 2023 on the Via Francigena.  Much cussing ensued, as it recall. But I will say that the Laon cathedral is the most awe-inspiring and luminescent of any church I have ever been in (and I’ve been to many!)

Speed limit of 130 km/hrs, 110 if it’s raining.  2.5 hour driver which gave plenty of time for everyone to have a nap. I’m not allowed to post pictures of the nappers though. Oh what the heck. Here it is.

They still sell Bugles here! Why here and not in Canada??? Grrr.

Arrived in Reims, a beautiful town with a Cathedral also worthy of Peter’s art history course, Roman arches, and the “surrender museum, the actual rooms where Germany surrendered in WW2.

Random quote from Ken to me: you look like a walking garage sale.  Thanks, Ken. I love you too.  Insert eye roll here.  No photo…but was wearing my pack, a fanny pack, and two jackets. His comment was later amended to “a walking thrift store”.

We’d decided the night before that perhaps we would not walk because of the storm but we woke up to blue skies and what seemed to be only mild winds (more fools us!)

Peter stayed behind to give his blisters some healing time and he visited the various game stores in town, finally finding a small box of Mantic miniatures (your guess is as good as mine?) that he had been looking for all through the trip.

Ken, Scott and I crossed the street to the train station (yes, we were that close) and hopped the train back to Shepherdswell.

So far, so good…

Why does the day always start with a hill????? One km straight up Church Road to St Andrew’s church where I was so happy to get another pilgrim stamp.

For my fellow Scouters, an innovative plea for more leaders for this 117 year old Girl Guide group.

Solidarity for Ukraine. ❤️

The horse chestnuts were huge but check out the size of the trunk. 2 m (6 feet) diameter.  So old… hundreds of years old…older than Canada.

The hard rain hits but it only lasts about 10 minutes.

By this time, we’ve told Scott to run ahead as he had a museum he wanted to visit.  He would send us the occasional warning of hazards the trail ahead. Like cows. Sweet little cows. By the way, they call these gates “kissing gates”.

She was leading Ken through the field. Or showing her disdain for him. One or the other. Your choice.

Hmmm. Big bull lying across the trail. But I wasn’t too worried. Ken was the one wearing bright red.

Ken:  🏃🐂    Me:  😁

Storm Amy begins to blow. Thankfully I had my trekking poles as without them I would have been blown over.  It was very difficult on the open downs.  On the other hand, if you were in the trees, you kept wondering when the branch was going to come down on your head.

Was taking this picture when the horse decided to see if I had any treats for him. I did not so he walked away in disgust. 

Made it back to Dover probably 2 hours later than we should have because of the heavy winds.

Ken stopped at a quintessential British pub while I plowed on for home.

Scott, Peter and I headed down to the water to check out the waves. (Ken unsurprisingly took a nap). Keep in mind that this is the inner harbour. We watched a big ferry bounce around and I was thankful we had cancelled the ferry.

So windy!

Lorries waiting to be loaded.

The iconic white cliffs of Dover.

Back to the guest house to pack up as Ed’s Taxi was picking us up at 720 am (blech – too early).

Turkish coffee.

Brolly repair.

Not a flavour I would choose!

.

The next stage was supposed to be 32 km, from Canterbury to Dover, which is too far for us. So the plan was to book two nights in Dover (no where to stay in Shepherdswell), walk to Shepherdswell, train to Dover  then go back to Shepherdswell by train and do the walk back to Dover without packs.  Ferry to France on the 16th.  But storm Amy blew up with Category 2 winds and I got very nervous about a rough ferry crossing 🤢.

So…we cancelled the ferry and made arrangements to cross the English Channel by taxi through the chunnel.

But we still headed off to Shepherdswell as the day was clear and the storm wasn’t to hit until later that evening.

Our house in Canterbury

Well, we didn’t get far! Who knew a record store would be open early on a Sunday morning?

Mail boxes all have the insignia of whichever monarch was on the throne at the time the boxes were installed. We’ve found Edward the 7th (red) and Elizabeth (grey), pictured here but also 2 styles of Queen Victoria and 3 styles of George. We’re having fun finding them!  (As you might suspect, we are easily entertained!)

Fully loaded for bear and off we go, following the Via Francigena once again.

Last view of Canterbury Cathedral.

Taking a break at Patrixbourne church, which has a pilgrim stamp but was closed. I chatted with the very enthusiastic Karla and Lucy who are hoping to do their own pilgrimage one day.

Wierd-assed mushroom.

Sloe plums, almost the size of grapes. Too bad they’re not great eating.  More for making gin and liqueur, but especially important for wildlife.

Huge badger den. About 4 feet high.

We made it to Shepherdswell train station in the pouring rain but we were undaunted (according to Ken).

Walk up the side with green arrows and not the red xes or the stair police will come after you

40 minute wait for a 15 minute train ride into Dover and our stay at the Norman Guest House.

We all love rest days – which are often also laundry days as we don’t carry many clothes. Maybe I don’t love them that much! Grateful that our house had a washing machine.

Off we go to do some exploring  first with a stop at the Cathedral to get our pilgrim stamp and to seek out the KM 0 stone for the Via Francigena. Our pilgrim credentials also gets us free admission into the Cathedral, otherwise entrance tickets are 21 pounds each (about $35). Ouch. But they don’t get government funding and the Cathedral costs 30,000 pounds a day to maintain.

Canterbury used to be a walled city. We were a 15 minute walk from the Cathedral and had to pass through the West Gate.

Ken insisted I post this photo… against my better judgment. I am not sure why he is looking so smug!

The beginning of the Via Francigena from Canterbury to Rome. Begins at the head of the Church of England and ends at the very Catholic Vatican in Rome.

There is a pilgrim saying that in times of need “the Camino provides”. We’ve certainly been the beneficiaries of Camino angels – like Judith and Roy, or Christina who picked us up during a hail storm on the way into Sienna in Italy. Today we had the opportunity to be Camino angels ourselves. We asked a fellow pilgrim to take our photo (pilgrims recognize each other) and when he asked if we knew of a cheap pilgrim place or somewhere to put up his tent, I looked at Scott and Ken, they looked at me, and we offered him the couch in our rental house.  Between avoiding the heavy rains and eating Scott’s homemade chicken pasta (he is such a good cook, if I do say so myself), i think Jean-Marc from Switzerland was a happy pilgrim.

The gentlem leading this group of school kids from south Korea lived in Edmonton for 18 months.

Some very strange chip, I mean, crisp flavors here. Ham and mustard??? No thanks.

Peter and I took a fascinating punt tour while Scott and Ken headed off to the Roman museum

Ken refused me the punt ride last time we were here so by golly I was going this time!

There was a hop harvest festival going on. Every square seemed to have “Morris” dancers. The tradition started in the 1500s. Costumes, lots of bells, rhythmic dancing and choreographed figures using socks and swords and stuff.

I don’t think I have to explain why this is one of Peter’s favourite shops.

Massive rain for a few minutes

Back to the house with our new pilgrim friend (sadly, i forgot to get a photo), with a stop at Sainsbury’s for the ingredients for Scott’s chef’s surprise.

Packs are on, Peter’s back with the team, and off we go.

Many of the places we’ve stayed at offered hot chocolate or chocolate bombs, and rubber duckies in the bathrooms.

We had to start with a bit of road walking to get out of town. Peter calls walking on roads “the grinder” and we all dislike it as most of the vehicles don’t slow down. I even had one lady stop and say “I couldn’t see you, darling, in the dark of the shade”. I didn’t point out she was also wearing sunglasses. But it was nice to be somebody’s darling!

Peter started out quite slowly in the morning, as it was quite hilly. We also stopped to check numerous bumblebees on the trail and Peter waited to protect some from dirt bikes he heard racing up the track.

Ken was sitting on the trolley waiting when a group of trail guide trainees came by, maps in hand.  He told them he was a temporary local attraction. Gave his 3B tips for the trail – beer, bench and bathroom – never pass one by. They seemed quite impressed with our planned adventure.

Scott is more Speedy Gonzales, so sometimes he gets way ahead and hangs out in his chair waiting for us.

Just had to show a pic of this huge Yorkshire pudding. I told Ken my sister makes better ones so now he wants to know why she’s never made him any.

This table is actually covering an old well.

The last half of the day was on a fantastic  flat trail alongside the Great Stour River. They call it the Great Stour to differentiate it from the 8 other Stour Rivers here.

I looked for the sheep and the swans we were warned about but saw none. Felt kinda ripped off.

Check out those fuzzy ears! These meadows are reclaimed quarry pits. Cattle have been grazing in the area since the 1800s.

Aw, there’s the swans! The owner of the dock was out sweeping duck poop – he said it was worth it though, having ducks and swans in front of his house.

Large murals under the bridge.  Many scenes but this one is from the book The Wind in the Willows

More Watling Street, the original Roman road from the coast to Londinium ((London if you didn’t take Grade 10 Latin in High School like I did. Remember Mr  Guerin, Dana?)

When Ken and I arrived in Canterbury (having walked from London) in 2022, it seemed a little more impactful than today’s arrival did. We had followed The Pilgrim’s Way and felt more pilgrim-y. We were embarking on the further road of the Via Francigena to Rome, and had a pilgrim blessing from Reverend Emma at the memorial to Thomas Becket, before heading off again, with our trusty Rawley the Trolley.

Arriving in Canterbury and at our house. One garden wall was covered in passion flowers and fruit. 

We are in a house for two nights. Scott made a yummy pasta dish for supper as he figured we’d been having a lot of pub food (true, but it’s so good!)

The dynamic is different with the four of us, but still special to be walking with the whole family.