To those who are interested,
The day stated early for me today (6:00) as I knew there was 35 kilometers between me and Montpellier, monday's planned destination. The old man sleeping in front of me woke up around the same time. We exited the dormitory together. As we started walking he explained to me that he was not planning on walking to Montpellier, but rather taking the train from Lunel, 6 kilometers down the road, straight to the metropolis. (Montpellier is a big-ass city compared to what i'm getting used to down here.) He said that the rout to Montpellier was uninteresting and next to the road so I agreed that it was a great idea and decided to travel with him. On our walk to the station, my comrade (I didn't retain his name) confessed to me that he was a pastry chef (or used to be) who was discussed by cakes. I thought this was odd, but nevertheless we reached the train station located in the disgusting town of Lunel as the train to Montpellier was taking off. Lunel was a town who's architecture was half 18th century stone buildings and half ultra modern design sidewalks and sculptures. Nothing fit. we waited for the next train for about an hour and a half and boarded it at 10:32. It was hugely demoralizing to see how fast it took us to get to Montpellier. A 10 hour hike of 32 kilometers on foot took the train 14 minutes. At the station in the city, we shook hands and parted ways. He was going to sleep in Montpellier, and I decided that, since it was so early, why not walk to Montarnaud and kill two birds with one stone. I hoped on a tram that would get me to the other side of the city. This proved to be quite hard; to enter a metropolitan area and then exit it walking. The tram took 2 Euros and 28 minutes to get me to the terminus Juvignac (a suburb of Montpellier). It was quite hard finding the GR653 out of Montpellier (I even called Zoe, who had google within her reach to locate me and guid me.) I finally found it after a man used his smart phone to show me the way. The hike to Montarnaud was about 5 hours. I got to the Maison du Pelerin at about 4:30. Montarnaud was the pretties village I had seen on the trip. It had a castle dominating the village on a hill. I was the only Pilgrim in the maison for about a half our, after which two Dutch hikers joined me. At dinner we talked politics! We discussed how France could be in big trouble now that M. Holland is president and about America not being the great power of the world anymore. They were quite judgmental considering the Dutch government is falling apart. I had cheese and salami for dinner.
Tomorrow I intend to walk back to Montpellier and catch a train back to Paris. It's amazing how much I crave a recognizable city...
Thursday, May 10, 2012
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
ETC. (5/7/12)
To those who are interested,
Made it to Gallargues safe. The trail once again started on the highway, and once again I thanked Apple inc. for providing me with the gadgets necessary to stay sane! I walked on the pavement for about 3-4 kilometers after which I took a right to lounge the Canal Phlipe Lamour, which was very pleasant. A dirt road with on my left long aisles of gape vines, cherry trees, apple orchards, ETC. (I finished Breakfast of Champions as well.) I was so enchanted by the cherries I was eating that I decided to deviate from GR 653 to follow the trail that lined the delicious fruit. Bad idea. I sort of lost my way... and found myself on the pavement ounce again. There was minimal space for me to walk without being smashed by a car like a Rudolf, so I decided to try to hitch a ride to Vauvert where I could retrieve my way on the GR653. Thumbs up! Ten minutes later I was riding in the back seat of Jacque Clostermann's car. He explained to me that he was an Air France Commendent de Bord (Captain) who was on a short leave. We talked for a few minutes (because the ride was quite short) about how America was truly the land of the most free. I think he was the nicest man I have ever met. I kept his card, and promised that I would send him my flight information to see that I was taken care of. Score. He dropped me off in Vauvert, and I found my way. The walk to Gallargues from Vauvert was uninteresting but pretty. Once in Gallargues I sat at the only cafe in the town, and had a refreshing coke. I tried to explain to my father what Gallargues was like, I described it as a cute shit-hole. It was pretty, but in the middle of nowhere. It would be like rural countryside Ohio.
P.S.
By the way, we have a new president...
Made it to Gallargues safe. The trail once again started on the highway, and once again I thanked Apple inc. for providing me with the gadgets necessary to stay sane! I walked on the pavement for about 3-4 kilometers after which I took a right to lounge the Canal Phlipe Lamour, which was very pleasant. A dirt road with on my left long aisles of gape vines, cherry trees, apple orchards, ETC. (I finished Breakfast of Champions as well.) I was so enchanted by the cherries I was eating that I decided to deviate from GR 653 to follow the trail that lined the delicious fruit. Bad idea. I sort of lost my way... and found myself on the pavement ounce again. There was minimal space for me to walk without being smashed by a car like a Rudolf, so I decided to try to hitch a ride to Vauvert where I could retrieve my way on the GR653. Thumbs up! Ten minutes later I was riding in the back seat of Jacque Clostermann's car. He explained to me that he was an Air France Commendent de Bord (Captain) who was on a short leave. We talked for a few minutes (because the ride was quite short) about how America was truly the land of the most free. I think he was the nicest man I have ever met. I kept his card, and promised that I would send him my flight information to see that I was taken care of. Score. He dropped me off in Vauvert, and I found my way. The walk to Gallargues from Vauvert was uninteresting but pretty. Once in Gallargues I sat at the only cafe in the town, and had a refreshing coke. I tried to explain to my father what Gallargues was like, I described it as a cute shit-hole. It was pretty, but in the middle of nowhere. It would be like rural countryside Ohio.
P.S.
By the way, we have a new president...
Hitting the Road (5/6/12)
To those who are interested,
Today was very frustrating. Unfortunately the trail is very poorly marked and I therefor missed the turn that would take me off the road and onto the GR 653. The rout to Saint Gilles is normally about 17 kilometers. I believe I extended that to about 30 kilometers as I followed the highway south west and then had to turn directly north to reach my destination. The painfully repetitive sounds of the cars swooshing by was healed by the flow of 2Pac bumping out of my headphones. Thank God for the 21st century! I arrived in Saint Gilles exhausted. It finally proved that the Murdernator has his physical limits! I was greeted at the gates of the Maison du Pelerin by a charming old couple. They offered me a glass of water, and after telling me that the best thing for muscle soreness is drinking a lot of water I asked for another. I downed them both before they showed me to my quarters, which were empty (and would remain empty, allowing me to spread myself comfortably).
For dinner, I found some rice in the kitchen and cooked it with some of my salami and cheese that I had brought for lunch. It was good considering I am not a genius in the kitchen and was not presented with a plethora of ingredients.
Today was very frustrating. Unfortunately the trail is very poorly marked and I therefor missed the turn that would take me off the road and onto the GR 653. The rout to Saint Gilles is normally about 17 kilometers. I believe I extended that to about 30 kilometers as I followed the highway south west and then had to turn directly north to reach my destination. The painfully repetitive sounds of the cars swooshing by was healed by the flow of 2Pac bumping out of my headphones. Thank God for the 21st century! I arrived in Saint Gilles exhausted. It finally proved that the Murdernator has his physical limits! I was greeted at the gates of the Maison du Pelerin by a charming old couple. They offered me a glass of water, and after telling me that the best thing for muscle soreness is drinking a lot of water I asked for another. I downed them both before they showed me to my quarters, which were empty (and would remain empty, allowing me to spread myself comfortably).
For dinner, I found some rice in the kitchen and cooked it with some of my salami and cheese that I had brought for lunch. It was good considering I am not a genius in the kitchen and was not presented with a plethora of ingredients.
Saturday, May 5, 2012
Voyage to Arles (5/5/12)
To those who are interested,
Today I woke up at 7:08 after a helpful wake-up call from my mother back in the states. (There is a 9 hour time difference, meaning mom called me at 10:08 pacific time.) Surprisingly I was awake enough to gather the strength necessary to take my shower (entailing a soapy rubdown and shampoo for healthy lettus) a qick shave and a few strokes of the brush for my teeth! The night before I had eaten Argentinian for the first time with two beautiful women: my sister and a very close family friend. (I have had minimal contact with the male human since my arrival and it makes me feel like a fucking silverback!) We got home pretty late (early enough to take the metro, however) and I was unable to fal asleep until 4 because of the still present jet lag. The espresso I just had is what gave me the motivation to this or else I would most likely be sleeping. Zoe kindly accompanied me to the Gare de Lyon after some simple navigation through Paris transit (le metro 6 jusqu'a Charles de Gaulle-Etoile puis le RER jusqu'a la Gare). Once on the platform, Lucy, my futur wife and a former Drew student, wished that the forced be with me on my journey via a text message sent from New York. I assured her my metaclourine count was elevated. I kissed my sister goodbye before entering the train, and watched her weep violently as we pulled away at 8:49. It is exactly 10:15 at the moment and so far I have continued to read Kurt Vonnegut's Breakfast of Champions, which I started on the plane flight over here, and have written this entry for my audience. I arrive at Avignon at 11:52 and transfer from a TGV to a slower local train which will take me to Arles. I arrive in Arles in time for lunch (12:35).
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
On my arrival...
Well, I arrived yesterday at 11 o'clock! The
plane flight was long and uninteresting as I was seated in an isle seat without
a window view, however, I could access the bathroom without mounting my
neighbors like a rodeo. Unfortunately I was unable to get a decent
number of hours of sleep in the plane. The jet lag is brutal…
It is 3:26 on Monday (my second day in Paris) and
so far I have been completely unproductive! I have:
1. had breakfast with my sister and her best
friend, maxi, at a traditional Japanese bakery. (big shout-out for maxi who sat
outside with us despite the one Euro charge.)
2. got stuck in a riot... for the "Front
Nationale" (French right wing party)
3. took a long subway trip to get cloths and other
necessities from our apartment but took the wrong keys.
4. I am finally back and writing this post
5. I will be leaving to go to a picnic at the Champ
de Mars in approximately 5 minutes...
3 hours later...
6. went to the picnic and met a few of my sister's fellow AUP students.
7. going to a cabaret with my uncle and cousin!
Sunday, April 22, 2012
Project Praying Feet
This blog will follow me, Brice Lockard, on my senior project as a take route on a stretch of the St. Jacque de Compostelle trail that starts in Arles goes through Montpellier and extends to Gingac. The hike is approximately 140 kilometers giving me the title of a "pilgrim." Although I am not religious, I intend to ask the essential question; what is the significance of a pilgrimage? and what drives people of faith to pursue one? On this blog I will post interviews with fellow pilgrims, pictures, and hopefully some eventful stories.
As I approach this pilgrimage, I feel more and more confident to tackle this undertaking. This project is a test to my creative writing, reporting, interviewing, and physical stamina as I will be engaged in activities that require all of these. Most importantly, however, this project, because if its truly liberal nature, will allow me to have the self confidence to focus on areas that I choose to focus on giving the project my own perspective and authenticity. Finally, this trip entails initiative (as I have come up with it on my own), planning and time management, which I feel is supporting a skill I have learned through sports at Drew, my high school.
I would be honored if you would follow me!
As I approach this pilgrimage, I feel more and more confident to tackle this undertaking. This project is a test to my creative writing, reporting, interviewing, and physical stamina as I will be engaged in activities that require all of these. Most importantly, however, this project, because if its truly liberal nature, will allow me to have the self confidence to focus on areas that I choose to focus on giving the project my own perspective and authenticity. Finally, this trip entails initiative (as I have come up with it on my own), planning and time management, which I feel is supporting a skill I have learned through sports at Drew, my high school.
I would be honored if you would follow me!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)