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Welcome to the “Georgia Wasp…”

This blog is modeled on the Carolina Israelite. That was an old-time newspaper – more like a personal newsletter – written and published by Harry Golden. Back in the 1950s, people called Harry a  “voice of sanity amid the braying of jackals.” (For his work on the Israelite.)

That’s now my goal as well. To be a “voice of sanity amid the braying of jackals.”

For more on the blog-name connection, see the notes below.

In the meantime:

My last post – on hiking the GR 70 in France – talked about my planning for and dreaming about the trip. (Hiking 150 miles on what’s also called the “Robert Louis Stevenson Trail.”)

It also talked of the difference between such dreams and how an adventure really turns out. (“Matching dreams and plans with reality, once you get over there.”) And finally it addressed the question: “Why would anyone in his right mind – especially at age 72 – want to go through such an ordeal?” Taking the last question first: One big reason is “I just love long walks.” I always have, and as a writer do some great thinking whenever I’m “out on the Trail.” And I’m not alone: Everyone “from Beethoven, Goethe, Dickens, Darwin to Steve Jobs took long walks:”

[W]alking holds just some of our attention, leaving a large segment to meander and observe. It’s this doing-something-but-not-really-thinking-about-it aspect of walking that might be most directly behind the ability of a good walk to stir up creative, new ideas.

Other reasons – with more detail in the Notes: Long walks help you become more creative, healthier and productive. (Not to mention “following in the footsteps of giants.”) Also in my case, long walks are a great way to get to know some intimate nooks and crannies of cities like Paris and Lyon. I’ll get to Lyon in the next post, but this one’s about hiking adventures in Paris.

In Paris I did a lot of meandering and observing, but first had to get over there. Which meant another red-eye flight from Atlanta, leaving at 6:30 Sunday evening and getting to Paris the next morning at 9:15. I guessed later that I got maybe 30 or 40 minutes real sleep the whole night. Mostly I watched a lot of old movies. The one I remember most was “Rocky Horror Picture Show,” mostly because I like the music. But on arrival I knew what to do. I’d made the same trip in 2021: From De Gaulle airport take the RER Train B to the Gare du Nord.

Which brings up navigating in a strange city. In my overseas trips so far I’ve relied on local “free” WiFi. There are portable hotspots you can use for European internet service, but they were something like $300 for 30 days the last time I checked. Instead, before leaving home I printed out Google maps of the route I was to take, from the train station to my hotel. I also wrote out and printed out written instructions, which were pretty clear. Up to a point.

I’d booked a place on Rue Sedaine, two miles southwest of the station. To get there (I wrote) “get on the Bd. de Magenta, which leads to the Place de la Republique.” On the other side of “Republique” the streets split, but I would get on the Bd. Voltaire. A little bit further down, once I saw the “Maze le Garage Electrique,” I’d know Rue Sedaine was coming up. And at the corner of Rue Sedaine I’d see a bar, “Le coup d’oeil,’ and turn right. So far so good.

The walk was pleasant, even carrying a 20-pound pack. I stopped just the other side of the Place de la Republique, at a Starbucks of all places. To rest, regroup, admire the passing scenery and ease into this strange new place with a little touch of home. Then, hiking further on, I discovered a quirk in my plans. After hiking what I reckoned to be about a mile and a half, right by the Stellar Restaurant Ephemera, the streets split. I stayed on the sidewalk I’d been hiking on.

And from there, on and on some more. “What was taking so long?” I kept thinking, “I should be seeing the Maze le Garage Electrique and Le coup d’oeil any time now.” Finally I tried asking directions from some locals. First a young couple, but they shied away like I was a strange man still grubby from a red-eye flight, or just wanting a hand-out. Then I asked a young Frenchman, sitting on a bench at what turned out to be the “Marche Bastille.” It’s another long, park-like area, like the Place de la Republique, between two busy streets, but skinnier and with more trees.

He was polite, and set me straight. So much for the city’s reputation for being so rude.

I found out later that the long narrow park I’d arrived at is also the site of “one of the biggest markets in Paris, stretching along the Boulevard Richard-Lenoir and across the Place de la Bastille.” As it also turned out, I had just hiked past Rue Sedaine, but on the wrong side. So as it also turns out, back where the streets split I should not have stayed on the same sidewalk I’d been walking on. Instead I should have crossed over, twice, past the “public toilettes” in a center traffic island. That way I’d get back to Boulevard Voltaire. Instead I’d been inadvertently shunted over to Boulevard Richard-Lenoir. And that’s how I discovered the Marche Bastille. What was interesting (to me anyway) was my handwritten route-notes. I later saw that they gave another way of finding the hotel. (And not get too lost.) I wrote that it’s on Rue Sedaine, “between the Marche Bastille Market and the Cemetary ‘Pere Lachaise’ where Jim and Oscar are buried.”

That’s Jim Morrison and Oscar Wilde by the way. In planning my two days in Paris I noted two places I wanted to visit. One was the Basilique du Sacré Cœur de Montmartre, with it’s splendid hilltop view of the whole city. The other was “Pere Lechaise,” resting-ground of a great number of notables, French, American and others. I eventually did make it to that world-famous cemetery, but that’s a story for another time. Meanwhile I had to get to my hotel.

I did get to it, but from the wrong end of Rue Sedaine. And later that day I discovered that the Maze le Garage Electrique and Le coup d’oeil were right where they were supposed to be, on my printed out map. But first I checked in and got Room 14, four floors up from the street. And it was tiny. The twin bed took up half the first part in, and a quarter of the whole apartment. But it was home, and it was in Paris, even though the “WC” was outside, on a stair-landing between my floor and the next one up. With its window right next to my window.

Which made for some interesting listening later on.

I tried to take a nap, but soon heard a lot of hammering and other building sounds from across the alley. Later that night I woke up and looked out the window, to drink in Paris at night. Quiet and peaceful. I looked down to the left, across the alley to a one-floor-down apartment with an unshaded window open to the breeze. The guy who’d been doing all the hammering that morning was on a cot, sound asleep, half-covered with a light blanket, with a bright light off to his right, out of my sight. The whole place had the air of extensive remodeling. Or just being made move-in livable. I felt bad about some things I’d been thinking, earlier, trying to take that nap.

Back to that first-day Monday afternoon in Paris. (After hiking down “the scenic route” from Gare du Nord to my hotel, by way of Marche Bastille, a long narrow park on Boulevard Richard-Lenoir.) The following Wednesday I was scheduled to take an early train down to Lyon, from the Gare de Lyon train station. So that Monday afternoon – after trying to take a cure-jet-lag nap – I took a hike down to Gare de Lyon. I wanted to check mostly on how long it would take to get there. The train was to leave at 9:30 a.m., and I didn’t want any slip-ups.

The hotel had tolerable WiFi, so I could see I should take Avenue Ledru Rollin down the mile to the station. I did, and found the Lyon station. (It’s expansive and hard to miss, plus there were signs on the street.) The route crossed Avenue Daumesnil, so on the way back I stopped at a cute little bistro at the corner of “Daumesnil” and Ledru Rollin, a block up from the station. I had two beers and enjoyed the passing scenery, then on the way back to the hotel stopped at a French mini-mart. I wanted something to get me through the night, in case I woke up early from the jet lag. But the only food I knew what It was was a bag of croutons and some bottled water.

Then I tried taking another nap, starting about 3:30 p.m., and this one worked. Later, despite all the hiking I’d done already that day, I decided to take yet another walk. In part to make sure the Maze le Garage Electrique and Le coup d’oeil were still where they were supposed to be. They were, but then I hiked a bit more up Boulevard Voltaire, to where it split off from Boulevard Richard-Lenoir. (To see what I should have done.) On the way back I stopped off at Le coup d’oeil on the corner of Rue Sedaine, and had one more beer. (After getting to know some unknown-to-most-other-tourist intimate nooks and crannies of Paris.)

And there was (Sunday) evening, and there was (Monday) morning—the first day. My first day in Paris, in September 2023, that is. I’ll cover my second day in Paris in the next post…

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The upper image is courtesy of “The Last Time I Saw Paris” – Image Results. See also The Last Time I Saw Paris – Wikipedia, on the 1954 “Technicolor romantic drama,” set in the city just as World War II was ending, and loosely based on F. Scott Fitzgerald‘s short story ‘Babylon Revisited:'”

The film starred Elizabeth Taylor and Van Johnson in his last role for MGM, with Walter Pidgeon, Donna Reed, Eva Gabor, Kurt Kasznar, George Dolenz, Sandy Descher, Odette, and (a then-unknown) Roger Moore in his Hollywood debut. The film’s title song, by composer Jerome Kern and lyricist Oscar Hammerstein II, was already a classic when the movie was made and inspired the movie’s title.

Re: Doing some good thinking while walking. See The Science of Why You Do Your Best Thinking While Walking, How Walking Enhances Cognitive Performance | Psychology Today, and Why The Greatest Minds Take Long Walks – Canva, source of the quote, “Why everyone from Beethoven, Goethe, Dickens, Darwin to Steve Jobs took long walks and why you should too.” The Psychology Today writer said that “listening to audiobooks and walking is my primary method of learning about the world, specifically business, history, and society.” For myself, when at home I watch educational videos – Wondrium and Crash Courses – while stair-stepping 30 minutes at a time. (With a 30-pound weight vest and 10 pounds of ankle weights.)

Re: Hotspots. The article 6 best portable Wi-Fi hotspots for travelers in 2023 | CNN lists some alternatives, but they’re still pretty expensive, considering the probably add-ons.

Re: Rude Parisians. See Why are people in Paris so rude? – Paris Forum – Tripadvisor. On this trip I found the opposite to be true, as will be detailed in a future post.

The lower image is courtesy of parisinfo.com.

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Re:  The Israelite.  Harry Golden grew up in the Jewish ghetto of New York City, but eventually moved to Charlotte, North Carolina.  Thus the “Carolina Israelite.”  I on the other hand am a “classic 71-year-old “WASP” – White Anglo-Saxon Protestant – and live in north Georgia.  Thus the “Georgia Wasp.”    

Anyway, in North Carolina Harry wrote and published the “israelite” from the 1940s through the 1960s.  He was a “cigar-smoking, bourbon-loving raconteur.”  (He told good stories.) That also means if he was around today, the “Israelite would be done as a blog.”  But what made Harry special was his positive outlook on life.  As he got older but didn’t turn sour, like many do today.  He still got a kick out of life.  For more on the blog-name connection, see “Wasp” and/or The blog.

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For months now I’ve been planning for and dreaming about this year’s overseas travel adventure: A 15-day, 150-mile hike on the Robert Louis Stevenson Trail, in the Cévennes mountains of south-central France. (Described in Stevenson’s 1879 book, Travels with a Donkey in the Cévennes.) That process of planning and dreaming only ended when I finally flew into Paris last Sunday, September 10. Then it was time to start matching dreams and plans with reality.

I also planned for and dreamed about visiting Paris again, for the third time since 1979. And that’s not to mention heading from there down to Lyon, where I’ve never been. And where I planned to sample some Beaujolais nouveau (wine) for which the city is famous.

From there I’d take the train-and-bus to Le Puy en Velay and meet up with my brother Tom and his wife Carol, this year’s hiking companions. (Coming up from two weeks in Spain.) We’d spend Saturday, September 16, getting good and ready, then start our 150-mile hike the day after that. The ultimate goal was St. Jean du Gard, where Stevenson ended his hike in 1878. We’d arrive 15 hiking days later, mostly following the path Stevenson hiked. We’d arrive there – if all went according to plan – on October 3, 145 years to the day from when he arrived. (With two days off from hiking for us, at Brugeyrolles, east of Langogne, and Pont de Montvert.)

Tom had reserved each night’s lodging months before. (A lesson he learned back in 2017, from our first hike on the Camino Francais.) To help with navigation, he and Carol both had French phone coverage, which included online maps. For myself, I had no French phone coverage and no online maps. I chose to rely on their phone maps, along with “free” French WiFi. (Which I thought would be available in most cafes, and the places we’d stop at night.)

As for Paris and Lyon – when I was on my own – I printed out paper maps to guide me in finding my lodging, and some places to visit in each city. Like the Sacré-Cœur Basilica in Paris, along with the Père Lachaise Cemetery. And the Basilica of Notre-Dame de Fourvière in Lyon. The towers of both basilicas were said to offer spectacular views of each city.

Then came the process of “matching maps and dreams to reality.” Or as John Steinbeck once said, you don’t take a trip, a trip takes you. Which turned out to be at least partly true.

In hindsight the trip was mostly “fun,” though not according to everyone’s definition. The French food was tantalizing, even if you didn’t always know what you were getting when you ordered. But the hike itself was certainly challenging, in many ways. Mostly every day, in the form of miles and miles of rock-strewn paths. (Which we had to hike and sometimes climb over, often at the dazzling speed of 1.2 miles an hour.) That daily “challenging” led some back-home friends and family to wonder, “Why on earth would you ever do such a thing?” (“Especially now that you’re over the hill, at age 72?”) Or as I put it in An update:

The food was great [in southern France], as were the many spectacular views from the tops of all those hills in the Cevennes. Which is another way of saying I’m still looking for an answer for people who ask, “Why would anyone want to do that?”

Aside from the many spectacular views and wonderful French cuisine, I had another good reason to put up with the “bunts and blunders” of hiking miles and miles over rock-strewn paths. I plan to write a book on this latest adventure, just like Stevenson did. And who knows? Maybe I can get some fame and fortune from this and other adventure books, just like he did.

All of which is a big reason why I write blog-posts. I plan to put them together at a later date – keeping in mind the need for that unity and coherence stuff – and make more eBooks out of them. And speaking of travel-ventures, I’ve had many in the past 10 years: Eight days canoeing 12 miles off the coast of Mississippi. Hiking the Camino de Santiago, three times, on various parts. Or the Chilkoot Trail, the “meanest 33 miles in history.”

Which brings up yet another good reason. I love long walks and always have. I do some great thinking on such long walks, especially “walking” five or six hours a day, with a 20-pound pack on my back. On the Stevenson Trail I spent a lot of time framing what I’d write on Facebook, hopefully later that same day. Then using those posts as notes when I got back home, to use in framing these blog-posts, and ultimately putting them together in an ebook.

But in the end, Stevenson may have said it best:

“For my part, I travel not to go anywhere, but to go. I travel for travel’s sake. The great affair is to move; to feel the needs and hitches of our life more nearly; to come down off this feather-bed of civilization, and find the globe granite underfoot and strewn with cutting flints.” (Emphasis added.)

And there was plenty of “globe granite underfoot,” on paths which often felt strewn with cutting flints. On that note, for much of the hike I kept reminding myself, “If you do fall, fall backwards. The pack will cushion you.” Much to my credit I didn’t fall at all… Until the last day, when I may have been in a hurry to get to the end, but that’s a story for later. Which I can also say about exploring Paris and Lyon, on my own, before even starting the hike. “That’s a story for the next post.” But first a foretaste of that “heavenly banquet of hiking,” from the second day’s hike:

…we now have two hiking days under our belts, with me only developing one big blister yesterday, on the ball of my left foot. Thanks in large part to hiking over slippery-rock trails like this, from yesterday. And today, tip-toeing – not through the tulips – but trying to NOT step down hard on that one blister-foot.

You saw what I’m talking about at the top of the page. And both that picture and the quote came from my Facebook post that day. (After a beerless night in Le Monastier-sur-Gazelle. It was Sunday, when everything shuts down in rural France. I had no WiFi that night either.) That second day – Monday, September 18 – we hiked 11.5 miles from “Le Monastier” to Bargettes. (A town so small and unknown that you get “baguettes” on a Google search.)

So much for the foretaste of “heavenly hiking.” (Irony or sarcasm?) It’s time to finish this post and start on the next, on exploring Paris and Lyon, on my own, “before even starting the hike.” Where I describe things like getting drenched on arrival at the Sacré-Cœur Basilica in Paris, and finding out that trying to memorize a Google Map route, from Lyon Part Dieu train station to the HO36 Hostel in Lyon, can make you feel lost and in despair. Until next time…

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I took the upper-image picture.

Re: The 2017 hike on the French Way. I met Tom in Pamplona, 450 miles from Santiago de Compostela. See “Hola! Buen Camino!” – Revisited, and “Buen Camino!” – The Good Parts. In 2019 we three hiked from Porto, Portugal, back up to Santiago, and in 2021 we hiked from St. Jean Pied-de-Port over the Pyrenees, the part I missed in 2017. See Hiking over the Pyrenees, in 2021 – finally!

Re: Steinbeck on trips. The actual quote is “people don’t take trips. Trips take people.” John Steinbeck – Travel Quote of the Week – Authentic Traveling.

Re: “Bunts and blunders” of hiking. (For example.) See Practical Mysticism, by Evelyn Underhill, Ariel Press (1914), at page 177. “True, it is said of the Shepherd that he carries the lambs in his bosom; but the sheep are expected to walk, and to put up with the bunts and blunders of the flock. It is to vigor rather than comfort that you are called.” See also Evelyn Underhill – Wikipedia.

About that “unity and coherence.” See On George Will’s “Happy Eye.” There I noted Will’s saying a columnist needs three seductive skills, with the third being, “be gifted at changing the subject frequently.’” I said I’d “learned to change the subject so frequently that my family says my writing ‘goes all over the place.’” And that I would try to “improve my column-writing Unity and Coherence.” 

Re: Thinking while walking. See The Science of Why You Do Your Best Thinking While Walking, How Walking Enhances Cognitive Performance | Psychology Today, and Why The Greatest Minds Take Long Walks – Canva: “Why everyone from Beethoven, Goethe, Dickens, Darwin to Steve Jobs took long walks and why you should too.”

Re: The “travel for travel’s sake” quote. See Quote by Robert Louis Stevenson: “For my part…”

The lower image is courtesy of Lyon Part Dieu Train Station – Image Results.

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After my last-post rueful meditation on a possible second Trump term, it’s time I turned back to some fun stuff. Like Walking the GR70. (The Robert Louis Stevenson Trail, described in his book, Travels with a Donkey in the Cévennes.) For starters, I’ll meet up with my two hiking companions in Le Puy-en-Velay. (After two days in Paris and two days in Lyon.) Then, after a day spent in Le Puy we’ll start the hike, about which I’ve done some research.

One site said that for the first few days after leaving Le Puy en Velay, “the GR 70 passes through forests and farmlands and the countryside appears deceptively gentle (although your leg muscles will likely disagree!). This is quintessential rural France.” But then, days later, “As the path approaches Mont-Lozère and climbs Col de Finiels (the highest point on the walk), the vegetation – and the livestock – disappears.” Tall rock formations line the edge of the trail and “during the walking season, the path is open and exposed to fierce sunshine and biting winds.”

But that comes after 50 miles of hiking, and 26 miles after Langogne, of which more later.

Then, 16 miles after climbing Col de Finiels, we come to Cévennes National Park. Of which another site said: “Continuing south to the Cévennes National Park, the GR 70 returns to the shelter of the forest with occasional glimpses through the trees to the wooded hills beyond. As you conquer each ridge, you’ll be richly rewarded with panoramic views of a landscape that appears to have been untouched for millennia.” Something to look forward to.

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Our first night after Le Puy is in Le Monastier-sur-Gazeille. That’s where Stevenson met an old man, “Father Adam,” and bought Modestine. He needed a donkey to “carry his sleeping pack, food supplies and other essentials needed for his journey.” When we hike into that town we should first pass by “Le Modestine,” an eatery, then a bit further “Bar Snack le Stevenson.”

After leaving Le Monastier we “commence with a short and relatively steep descent into the Upper Loire Valley. Then climb over 400 metres, through charming hamlets and across volcanic plateau.” On the trail to Pradelles – one of France’s “most beautiful villages” – the ascents and descents are less steep, but the trail is “far from flat… Climb to the volcanic plateau from the Arquejol Viaduct before descending through forest to the granite ‘City of the High Prairies.'”

Whatever that is. Maybe the “camping beyond the clouds,” below.

Which leads to a side note: Some addresses on my brother’s spreadsheet are hard to find on Google Maps. Like, on leaving Le Monastier we hike 11.5 miles to some place I couldn’t find. (Which is why they call such activities “exploring.”) I’m thinking we end up in Landos, on the trail from Le Monastier to Longogne, of which more later. From there we hike 11 miles and end up at Camping Nature Beyond the Clouds. (So named because it’s “located on a volcanic plateau at an altitude of 1100m [3,600 feet] with an unobstructed view of all horizons.”)

And it’s still 35 miles before we get to climb the Col de Finiels.

So anyway, after “Camping Beyond the Clouds” we hike 9.5 miles to a place on Route de Brugeyrolles, in Langogne. Google Maps shows two routes, the shortest 10.2 miles. (The spreadsheet says 9.5 miles.) Either way, we take our first day off there.

In his book Stevenson described the countryside “but nothing on the town itself,” even though it was the largest town on his route. And speaking of Langogne, I mentioned it in last May’s Gearing up for the Stevenson Trail. I ended the post noting the “infamous Beast of Gévaudan.” The Beast was said to be a “man-eating ogre” prowling the area of Langogne. (“It” first attacked a young woman tending cattle in the Mercoire Forest near Langogne, in the early summer of 1764.) I said I definitely needed to do “more research on that topic.”

Here’s what I learned. Stevenson mentioned it in “Camp in the Dark,” in his Travels. It turns out the Beast terrorized the province of Gévaudan, which we pass through. But as it also turns out, it was apparently shot and killed by a local hunter, Jean Chastel, in 1767. The killings stopped after that. On the other hand, one theory said the attacks were really caused by wolves:

Attacks by wolves were a very serious problem during the era, not only in France but throughout Europe, with thousands of deaths attributed to wolves in the 18th century alone. In the spring of 1765, in the midst of the Gévaudan hysteria, an unrelated series of attacks occurred near the commune of Soissons, northeast of Paris, when an individual wolf killed at least four people over a period of two days before being tracked and killed by a man armed with a pitchfork. Such incidents were fairly typical in rural parts of western and central Europe.

One site said on leaving Langogne we pass through “forest and charming hamlet en route to the medieval village,” Cheylard-l’Évêque, where we’ll spend Friday night. (After hiking 10.5 miles.) From there we go off the trail, the 11.8 miles to Saint-Étienne-de-Lugdarès. (Arriving Saturday afternoon, we hope.) On Sunday we hike a long 13.8 miles to La Bastide-Puylaurent.

Stevenson stayed at a Trappist monastery a mile and a half east of town. He described his stay at Notre-Dame-des-Neiges – “Our Lady of the Snows” – in a chapter of the same name. Nearing it he described the weather as desolate and inclement, and that he experienced a “slavish, superstitious fear.” (For one thing, places to stay were much harder to find back then; thus his “camping”) Aside from the monks – generally sworn to a vow of silence – he encountered only two other boarders, retraitants. (A word that can mean “retreater,” retiree or pensioner.)

One was a country parish priest, the other a retired “old soldier.” (He first came as a boarder, then decided to stay on as a novitiate.) At supper the first night the talk turned to politics, which led to a brief flareup. Next morning over coffee they “found out I was a heretic.” (In his 20’s he rejected Christianity and declared himself an atheist.) What followed? “Now the hunt was up.” He tried to defend himself but got instead a long lecture on the “harrowing details of hell.” The haranguing went on until finally Stevenson protested against “this uncivil usage.” That led to a comment that the two had “no other feeling but interest in your soul.” All of which is a reminder: “Never discuss politics, religion or the Great Pumpkin” with people you don’t know.

With that comment, “there ended my conversion.” Stevenson waited until after supper to saddle up Modestine and set off for Chasseradès. That’s a former commune – which merged with Mont Lozère et Goulet in 2017 – some six miles southwest of Le Bastide. And we too will stop at Chasserades, on our way to Le Bleymard, after a “mere” 8.2 mile hike.

I’ll cover that “rest of the hike” in my next post, which I hope will be before I leave for Paris.

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The full link of the first source: Walking the GR70 Chemin de Stevenson – I Love Walking In France. See also Robert Louis Stevenson Trail GR70 – The Enlightened Traveller®. Both reviewers sometimes took different routes than those on our itinerary, so I’ll have to fill in those details in my After action report. (Compare that with an After-action review.)

For the “Great Pumpkin,” see Never Discuss Politics, Religion or the Great Pumpkin (ABC News):

Consider Linus, never without his blanket, as he philosophizes: ‘There are three things I’ve learned never to discuss with people: religion, politics and the Great Pumpkin…” [In discussing] the difference between believing in Santa Claus and believing in the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown observes, “We are obviously separated by denominational differences.”

(BTW: In Mont Lozère et Goulet we’ll still be 12.3 miles north of Col de Finiels.)

The lower image is courtesy of Abbey of Notre-Dame des Neiges – Wikipedia.

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July 24, 2023 – It won’t be long now. Next mid-September, two companions and I will hike the Stevenson Trail in France, starting in Le Puy-en-Velay. But first I’ll have to get there, through Paris, then by train some 280 miles southeast to Lyon. (A place I’ve never been.) I’ll stay two nights in each place, then take a train-and-bus combo some 84 miles southwest to Le Puy. (Oddly enough, getting to Le Puy from Lyon will take about as long as from Paris to Lyon.)

Those two nights each – Paris and Lyon – mean I’ll have some time for sightseeing. But that also means I have to plan carefully, to get the biggest bang for my buck. (So to speak.)

But first, Paris. After arriving at De Gaulle airport – early in the morning – I’ll take the RER Train B to the Gare du Nord. (18 Rue de Dunkerque.) Then (as I wrote about the 2021 trip), “out the exit past the Starbucks, and take a left and onto Rue la Fayette.” That’s assuming I can find the exit. In 2021 I had a heck of a time finding how to get from the lower level up to the ground floor and then out into the sunshine. (And a sidewalk cafe.) Here’s hoping experience is a good teacher.

In Paris I booked a room near the swanky Hipotel Paris Voltaire Bastille. It’s about a two-mile hike from Gare du Nord, but I’ll have some time to kill. Check-in isn’t until 2:00. From there – barring jet lag – I’ll have some sights to see. In 2021 I wanted to visit a place on the outskirts, Choisy-le-Roi. On my first visit in 1979, a young lady-friend and I camped at a youth hostel there. In a little tent, “very romantic,” between the Seine and Marne Rivers. (“Is the hostel still there?”)

This trip too it would be nice to visit La Basilique du Sacré Cœur de Montmartre.

Shown at the top of the page, the Basilica is “at the summit of the butte of Montmartre.” Said to be visible from most parts of Paris, it also offers a great panorama of the city itself. Plus it would be nice to visit Montmartre, interested as I am in Impressionist painting and painters. But to get to either Choisy-le-Roi or Montmartre I’ll have to take the Métro, said to be the haunt of numerous Pickpockets and Scams. I’ll let you know how that works out. Or I may just say the hell with it and confine myself to walking tours based around the Île de la Cité.

On that note, it turns out my room is less than a mile from the Père Lachaise Cemetery, where notables like Jim Morrison and Oscar Wilde are buried. Plus it’s a nice shady place for a walk – without a pack – through its wooded 106 acres. And when it’s time to leave Paris, the room is a mere mile hike to Gare Lyon, for my train down for two nights in Lyon.

Speaking of Lyon, I once wrote that – as I once thought – hotels were cheaper there than in Paris. That turns out not to be true. For some reason, most places I checked added on either a hefty “cleaning fee,” or a hefty damage deposit. (Supposedly refundable but I hate paying “deposits.”) That routinely doubled the price of what I thought at first was an affordable room. I ended up paying more for two nights in Lyon than two nights in Paris.

I finally booked a do-able room just across the Rhone River from “Presqu’île,” the peninsula center-of-the-city formed by the confluence of the Rhône and Saône rivers. As in Paris, I’ll get to Lyon before noon, some hours before check-in. But the room is only another two-mile, 45-minute hike, from the Gare de Lyon-Perrache. And on the way is the Damn Fine Bookstore.

It’s billed as one of the few places to get books in English outside Paris. Plus it has a cafe, where I’ll spend some time between arrival and check-in. Then too, once it’s time to head down to Le Puy, it’s only a little over a mile hike from the room to the Lyon Part Dieu station, where I head southwest. Getting there on time won’t be a problem. I don’t leave Lyon until early afternoon.

Back to that room in Lyon. It’s less than a mile to Place Bellecour, third-largest public square in France. More important for me is it’s less than two miles to the Basilica of Notre-Dame de Fourvière. Like the Paris Basilique du Sacré Cœur, it too is said to offer a spectacular view of the city. And speaking of those two church towers – Paris and Lyon – the dome of the Basilica of the Sacréd Heart of Montmartre is said to have 300 steps to the top. The dome of the Basilica of “Our Lady” (the Virgin Mary) is said to have 287 steps to the top. With the other walking tours I’ll make in both cities, climbing those 587 stairs all the way to the top – and back down again – will be good training. Good training for that 15-day, 150-mile hike on the Stevenson Trail.

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The upper image is courtesy of View From Sacre Coeur Basilica Montmartre – Image Results.

In writing this post I used past posts like Countdown to Paris – 2021, Hiking over the Pyrenees, in 2021 – finally, A post-trip post mortem for “Paris – 2021,” and Gearing up for the Stevenson Trail.

On “Bang for buck,” see Wikipedia on the idiom of getting “greater worth for the money used:“

The phrase “bigger bang for the buck” was notably used by U.S. President Dwight D. Eisenhower‘s Secretary of Defense, Charles Erwin Wilson, in 1954. He used it to describe the New Look policy of depending on nuclear weapons, rather than a large regular army, to keep the Soviet Union in check.

I didn’t know that last bit of history, one reason I enjoy blogging. Those “rabbit trails…”

For more the Sacré-Cœur Basilica see the Wikipedia article.

On the Paris Metro’s “Les pickpockets,” see How to Avoid Pickpockets and Scams in Paris, Pickpocketing Has Skyrocketed in Paris Over the Past Year, and The Paris Pickpocket: How to Recognize and Avoid Them. Or Google. The Eiffel Tower is said to be the place they like best.

On “15 days,” etc. That includes two days off, not hiking. My brother Tom figured 151.3 actual miles hiking, though with two question marks for miles figured for two days near the end of the hike.

The lower image is courtesy of View From Basilica Of Notre-dame De Fourviere Lyon – Image Results. See also Basilique Notre Dame De Fourviere, Lyon | Ticket Price, indicating a price of six Euros, and that the best time to visit is between 3:00 and 6:00 p.m.

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To get to the hike on the Stevenson Trail in France, I have to go back to Paris – again!

This will be my third time back, actually. I first visited the City of Light in 1979, in the company of a young co-ed named Janine. When she finished a semester abroad in London, we toured Europe via Eurail Pass. (Including two days in Paris.) The second time was in 2021, when I met up with three hiking companions. They were going to hike the full Camino de Santiago, starting from Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port on the French side of the Pyrenees. I only hiked as far as Burgos, in Spain, for reasons explained in Countdown to Paris – 2021. (I’d already hiked to Santiago twice, but hadn’t hiked over the Pyrenees. And felt guilty about missing that.)

Next September, 2023, two of those hiking companions* and I will hike the Stevenson Trail, starting in Le Puy-en-Velay, 340 miles southeast of Paris. But first comes Paris. More specifically, first comes the half-hour train ride from De Gaulle airport to the Gare du Nord. As noted in the ’21 post, “I’ll take the RER Train B to the Gare du Nord. (18 Rue de Dunkerque.) Then out the exit past the Starbucks, and take a left and onto Rue la Fayette.” And by the way, in 2021 I had a heck of a time just getting out of the Gare du Nord, up one flight to the streets of Paris. I didn’t see any clear exit signs, but hopefully this time “experience will be the best teacher.”

In 2021 I had a list of things to do in two days on my own, including a visit to Notre-Dame:

But there is one place on the outskirts that I definitely want to visit… As I recently learned, Choisy-le-Roi is where Henry Kissinger conducted secret negotiations … to end the Vietnam war, in 1972. But back in 1979 it was also home to a youth hostel, and on the grounds of that hostel [Janine and I] camped in a little tent, between the Seine and Marne Rivers. With the moonlight shining through the tent flap… (Can you say, “romantic interlude?”)

I didn’t get to see Choisy-le-Roi in 2021, but maybe this time…

Back to the September trip. Early on, getting ready for that hike, I thought of visiting Arles. (In the south of France, of Vincent van Gogh fame?) I checked and saw a Grande Vitesse high-speed train connection for $43.87, from Paris to Arles. (Second class, Senior discount. A first-class ticket is $50.80, as best I can tell. Paris to Arles by Train from € 25.70 | TGV Tickets & Times.) But the trip from Arles to Le Puy-en-Velay cost almost the same, $48.60. And while it’s 471 miles from Paris to Arles, it’s 132 from Arles to Le Puy-en-Velay, where the hike starts. (Go figure.)

Or I may just take a Grande Vitesse from Paris to Lyon, for a couple of days there. I’ve never been to Lyon, and besides, hotels are a lot cheaper there than in Paris.

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More about that 150-mile, 15-day hike. It follows the trail Stevenson followed for his 1879 book Travels with a Donkey in the Cévennes. The first of five chapters is titled Velay, referring to the township in south-central France where our hike will start. Known these days as Le Puy-en-Velay, it’s famous for its cathedral, a special kind of lentil, and lace-making. It’s also the starting point of the Chemin du Puy, one of many pilgrimage routes of the Santiago de Compostela. And finally, it’s known for its green liqueur “Verveine du Velay,” flavored with verbena. (A liqueur “normally taken after a meal as a digestif, but it can also be used in cocktails.”)

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Another note to get out of the way. This next hike may have been “preordained before the beginning of time.” Or at least strongly foreshadowed by a post I did in February 2015, On donkey travel – and sluts. (A heads up: Stevenson’s word “sluts” had a different meaning in 1879, explained in the notes.) The post started off saying Stevenson’s 1879 book inspired the theme and title of John Steinbeck‘s 1962 travelog, Travels with Charley. (Steinbeck called Stevenson’s 1879 book “One of the single greatest works of English literature.”) But mostly the Sluts post talked about why Stevenson, Steinbeck and other “old people” like us would put ourselves through such ordeals. (Mostly it’s because it “beats playing Bingo at the Senior Center!”)

So anyway, Travels with a Donkey recounted a “12-day, 120-mile solo hiking journey through the sparsely populated and impoverished areas of the Cévennes mountains in south-central France in 1878.” The book itself – considered a pioneering classic of outdoor literature – describes some of Stevenson’s trials and tribulations. (Which seem part and parcel of pioneering: “One of the first people to do something.”) One such trial involved what a pain it was to get the donkey – “Modestine” – to move at anything more than a virtual crawl. (She was, said Wikipedia, “a stubborn, manipulative donkey [Stevenson] could never quite master.”) Incidentally, hikers today can rent a donkey, for something like $1,000, but we chose to forego that option.

Another trial? The whole idea of “camping” – especially while hiking – was totally new:

[Travels with a Donkey] is one of the earliest accounts to present hiking and camping outdoors as a recreational activity. It also tells of commissioning one of the first sleeping bags, large and heavy enough to require a donkey to carry. Stevenson is several times mistaken for a peddler, the usual occupation of someone traveling in his fashion. Some locals are horrified that he would sleep outdoors … because of wolves or robbers.

But here’s a news flash. Wolves and robbers aren’t such a problem any more. (I hope.) Plus, the area is no longer sparsely populated, hikers aren’t seen as strange “peddlers,” and you don’t have to camp outside as Stevenson did. See Walking the GR70 Chemin de Stevenson – I Love Walking In France. Stevenson “could not have imagined that one hundred years later, thousands of walkers would be inspired to follow in his footsteps.” Also, “There are plenty of options for overnight accommodation* on a long-distance walk along the Chemin de Stevenson.”

Getting back to the sluts. In the part, “Upper Gevaudan – A Camp in the Dark,” Stevenson wrote of trying to get to Le Cheylard l’Évêque, “a place on the borders of the forest of Mercoire.” There was no direct route, and it was “two o’clock in the afternoon before I got my journal written up and my knapsack repaired.” Besides – he was told – it would only take an hour and a half to get there. But he got lost, and finally “rejoiced” when he found Sagne-Rousse.

He went on his way “rejoicing in a sure point of departure.” (He knew where he was on the map.) In the meantime it rained and hailed alternately, and the wind kicked up. Two hours later he ended up “tacking through” a bog when he finally found a village and a crowd of locals, including children. But when he moved toward them to ask directions, “children and cattle began to disperse, until only a pair of [12-year-old] girls remained behind.” The local peasants were – he said – “but little disposed to counsel a wayfarer,” and one “old devil simply retired into his house, and barricaded the door.” That left only one source of guidance, but:

As for these two girls, they were a pair of impudent sly sluts, with not a thought but mischief. One put out her tongue at me, the other bade me follow the cows; and they both giggled and jogged each other’s elbows.

So he proceeded on. He finally found another village, but no one answered when he knocked on doors seeking shelter for the night. Finally he had to set up camp in the pitch-black night:

All the other houses in the village were both dark and silent; and though I knocked at here and there a door, my knocking was unanswered. It was a bad business; I gave up Fouzilhac with my curses. The rain had stopped, and the wind, which still kept rising, began to dry my coat and trousers. ‘Very well,’ thought I, ‘water or no water, I must camp.’ 

So much for being a pioneer. And incidentally, at the end of “Camp in the Dark,” Stevenson brings up “the infamous Beast of Gévaudan,” a man-eating ogre said to prowl the area. (“Gévaudan, 48700 Monts-de-Randon” is 54 miles southeast of Le Puy-en-Velay.)

I definitely need to do more research on that topic before starting the hike, and maybe for my next gearing-up post. But in the meantime, “First comes Paris – Again!”

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The upper image is courtesy of Robert Louis Stevenson Trail – Walking in France. I used it as the lead image for the February 2015 post On donkey travel – and sluts, in my companion blog. I did a follow-up post on the Trail – kind of – in March 2015’s On “I pity the fool!”

Re: “City of Light.” Something I didn’t know, all those lights were installed to prevent widespread murder. “In the 1660s, Paris was Europe’s murder capital. Even senior police and bureaucrats were being found in pools of blood… To prevent Paris’ violent crooks” – and murderers – “from hiding in shadows, the king ordered almost 3,000 street lanterns be erected to light Paris brightly at night, making it the first large European city to have evening illumination and earning it the City of Light title.” From the link, Paris’ Nickname ‘the City of Light’ Has a Gruesome Backstory.

Aside from posts noted elsewhere, the bibliography for this post includes, beginning with my own Countdown to Paris – 2021, from this blog: Travels with a Donkey in the Cévennes – Wikipedia, GR 70 – Wikipedia, Robert Louis Stevenson Trail GR70 – The Enlightened Traveller, and Stevenson Trail Gr-70 – my 11 days hike through France. See also On donkey travel – and sluts, February 2015, On “I pity the fool,” March 2015, On St. James, Steinbeck, and sluts, from September 2016, and On Saint James the Pilgrim – and “Transfiguration 2021,” from October 2021, all from my companion blog.

Re: Companions. In September 2021, the hiking companions were my brother Tom, his wife Carol, and Carol’s brother Ray. I hiked over the Pyrenees with them, and through Pamplona to Burgos in Spain. The full Camino route they took was the French Way. In September 2022, Tom, Carol and I did a 15-day hike in Italy. See Some highlights – Way of St. Francis 2022.

Re: Plenty of options for overnight accommodation. See the I Love Walking In France post:

There are plenty of options for overnight accommodation on a long-distance walk along the Chemin de Stevenson… The longest section, from Le Pont-de-Montvert to Bédouès-Cocurès, requires a walk of 23.5 kilometres (14.7 miles) or, if you wish to spend the following night in Florac, you will need to cover an additional five kilometres (three miles) of walking. To avoid this, a shortcut along the GR 68 will allow you to reduce the walk by six kilometres.

(Click the link to see the full list of possible places to stay for the night along the Trail.)

For the last part of this post I borrowed extensively from The Annotated ‘Travels with a Donkey in the Cévennes’/A Camp in the Dark. Also, Sagne-Rousse is a “hamlet in Lozère, Occitanie … situated nearby to the localities Lou Debarras and Gourgouline.” As to Fouzilhac, see GR®70 Segment 4 : From Langogne to Fouzilhac – AllTrails. From Langogne to Fouzilhac: “Head out on this 7.8-mile point-to-point trail near Langogne, Lozère. Generally considered a moderately challenging route, it takes an average of 3 h 18 min to complete.” 

The lower image is courtesy of Paris City Of Love – Image Results. Or Google “paris city of lights.”

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