Bex to Martigny

Monday 27 July 2015 - 23 kilometres

After the long previous day and a very arduous climb to the convent, today was to be a relative easy one. All four Pilgrims virtually set off together and in Saint Maurice we stopped off in the Abbaye Saint Maurice, parts of which date back to the Middle Ages. The sister at Les Polous are from the order of Saint Maurice. 

We left Saint Maurice behind and was soon climbing into the woods along the side of the valley. Our path took was to take us over a bridge across a wide gorge, but the bridge had been washed away, a clear indication of the amount and force of the water that comes from down the mountain. We made a detour up the mountain side to cross the gorge that currently resembled more of a stream rather than a raging torrent. We descended the hillside to happen across a pub / cafe with a table and seats outside so it would have been rude not to stop. Once again we had our morning coffees and I took the opportunity to get some air to my feet and to dispense to first aid to them. After about ten minutes our fellow Pilgrims appeared and as they reached us asked me how my feet were, I pointed to the battered and plastered appendiges and Margy just burst out laughing.......She did however apologies, but I did understand her mirth. Bert asked how they had got across the gorge and they replied that coming across the broken bridge they had just gone to one side and walked across the stream!

Our fellow Pilgrims carried on and we were also soon on our way, the day being an uneventful one until we arrived at the Pisse Vache waterfalls. Now I don't speak French but it has since been pointed out to me the literal translation of that name. The first part well it speaks for itself just make it the second word of the sentence and you have cow p**s waterfalls..... 

From the waterfalls we ambled through orchard before arriving at Martigny. We had not booked accommodation and so headed to the local church office to seek a bed for the night. We were again received with open arms and enthusiasm and after completing all the paperwork and receiving a Pilgrim stamp for our passports, we were taken to our own flat. In Martigny they have a small flat available that consists of a working kitchen with some limited supplies, a bathroom with a bath! And a dining / bedroom / living room. All this for just twenty Swiss francs a night....an absolute bargain. There was just one very small almost insignificant problem... And that was the distance between the two single beds.... I think you might have been able to get a piece of paper between the beds...just! But they were definitely two single beds

After the hot days walk we went in search of some sustenance and more of our five a day with two beers each and then to the supermarket to stock up on supplies. It is very expensive for everything in Switzerland so with that in mind I volunteered to cook for Bert, nothing elaborate just a pizza and a fresh salad all washed down with a bottle of local white wine.

We retired to bed early and despite the close proximity to each other we both slept well.

Montreaux to Bex (Saint-Maurice)

Sunday 26 July 2015 - 34 kilometres

We woke early as it was a long walk today to our accommodation at the convent Les Poules in Bex. This was not on my original planned stop over for the guide book that I am using but in Berts book it is a must stop over, so we we're going to do it.

After an interesting breakfast with Kevin, our new friend, and the completion of selfies, we were on our way just after 8am. The days walk continued where we left off the previous day, walking alongside and to the end of lake Geneva. The day once more was hot and sunny and soon, just before entering Villeneuve the route took us past the 12th century Chateau Chillon.

We have developed a well tried and tested routine now for the days walking that involves a coffee break in the morning and afternoon and with one such occasion we took the opportunity to sit on a hotel jetty set out for the guests hotel breakfasts on the lake. It was very tempting to just sit there for the day with lake stretching out in front of us with views as far as Lausanne but knowing the distance in store for us we wasted no time and was on the way once we'd had not one but two coffees.

The route took us away from the lake to walk alongside the river Rhone for much of the day. With caffeine levels seriously depleting we stopped off at Illarsaz to rehydrate, my feet were a bit sore with the constant pounding on the hard walk surface and so I felt I needed a reward and bought a gorgeous apple flan type thing and it also counted as one of my five a day. We sat there outside in the sun drinking coffee, eating our sandwiches which we had made from our breakfasts at the hostel. Two more coffees drunk and once more we were on our way to continue along the Rhone.

As the day progressed and our end goal became nearer I happened to casually ask Bert where we were heading for and he jokingly replied....you see that white house in the far distance, the one at the top of the hill, that's where we're heading. My reply was something akin to......if it is then you are carrying me up there!!

How little did we both know how true his remark was. We left the river and asked for directions the centre of Bex where we hoped to pick up directions for the convent. As we neared the centre a car pulled alongside us an the same couple we had asked directions offered us a lift to the convent. We proudly declined later to regret such generosity.

We continued on our March slowly slowly ascending hoping that at every corner we had reached our goal, only to find out that the road was just going up and up. Naturally my conclusion, much to Berts amusement, was that the white house he had pointed out was in fact to be where we were staying. After what seemed a lifetime we walked through the door of the convent to be met by a very joyful Sister Margaret. She was very enthusiastic to hear where we had come from and our intended end points and after explaining what time Vespers was and the meal times, we went to our respective rooms. O what joy to have some private space, a comfy bed and en-suite facilities.

After a wash and brush up and some quick washing I went to the church to attend the Vespers service. During my Pilgrim walk I have attended a few of these services but this one was to be different again. The service was very personable, with different nuns leading prayers which were sung and different sides of the nuns responding.  There were about thirty nuns of varying ages but significantly very few younger ones which probably indicates that as a vocation it is not attractive to current generations. There were two other Pilgrims attending and a special prayer was devoted to our safe travel....for me it was a moving experience.

After the service we all went for the evening meal which was simple but sufficient with local wine served too. It transpired that the two other Pilgrims were from Holland and Bert was pleased to here his mother tongue. I was quite happy to sit and hear the conversations but on occasions he three were keen to talk in English so I could join in the conversation. Our new Pilgrim friends were also heading in our direction but their guide book took them on a different route to the one I was using. Soon it was time to retire and get some well deserved sleep.

Lausanne to Montreaux

Saturday 25 July 2015 

The route today started with a long stretch along the main road out of the city before reaching the edge of Lake Geneva. Again the day was to be a long and hot one, with very little opportunity to shelter from the sun.

After walking on the main road it was soon nice to briefly walk along the lake. Our route taking us so close that the waves splashing and breaking across the path gave us both much amusement. Especially when I was too slow to avoid a decent soaking, much to Berts amusement. We left the lake and headed up to and to walk through the grape vines above the lake. Our route took us through Culley and arriving at a Boulongerie it would have been rude to walk past so we availed ourselves of their finest coffee........a cake for Bert and savoury tart for me. Well it is important to keep the energy levels up!

We continued on our way, once again meandering up and down and through the vineyards above the lake. Every now and then Bert mentioning that we were nearing a station and we could get a train, or a bus!

We never formally stopped for a lunch stop we just grazed when we took an opportunity to stop and have water and a short rest. Taking every opportunity to marvel at the sight of the lake and the views of the Alps ahead in the far distance and our ultimate direction.

Before not too long we were down by the lakeside and enjoying the pleasures it had to offer. We stopped a couple of times to phone our accommodation for the night but each time there was no reply. In Montreaux we were getting a bit desperate so Bert spoke to the Villeneuve tourist information asking if they knew of anywhere that could provide accommodation with Pilgrim prices. Well so and so hotel have Rome for one hundred and sixty Swiss Francs, or there is a cheaper one at one hundred and twenty. No thanks, he replied. We were both not surprised that for some reason the tourist information do not understand or support the Pilgrims that pass through.

I found the details of an International Youth Hostel in my guide book in Montreaux and tried to contact them but they were closed until 5pm. I sent a text message to my wife, Rachel, to ask if she could check if they had rooms and the reply came back that they did not......formidable!

We decided to wait and just before 5pm we were first in the queue at the hostel reception to seek a room. We were in luck, accommodation was ok and soon we were once more going through the routine of making beds and getting refreshed. 

Tonight we were both in for a treat.......the room we had been allocated had other beds free and this were given to three Taiwanese young men who were travelling Europe. I met them first in the dormitory whilst I was literally operating on my very blistered heel, using scissors and the opposite hand I am used to using. As the more talkative approached me very closely he uttered loudly, o my goodness what are you doing?..........operating on my foot. Why? .....Because I need to so I can walk. Where are you from......England, I replied whilst trying to concentrate on what I was doing. England, I wrote a letter to your Queen and I can sing your national anthem, do you want me to sing it.....Er no!  She wrote me a letter back..........Did she invite you for tea with Phillip? I uttered whilst still trying to sort my ankle out, concentrating with all my might. I was certain I might chop my foot off if the conversations continued.

What is your job? The conversation continued whilst my new friend was almost breathing in my ear watching what I was doing. .........I am a long distance walker and writer! You are a writer, a very famous writer, what is your name? ........No I am not a famous writer, I just write the walks I do for others to follow. I don't think he understood that. Suffice to say the conversation did end and I did manage to successfully operate on my ankle without having to sew my foot back on because I had chopped it off. The rest of the night passed without any further events but Bert (my walking companion) did mention that he had met my enthusiastic friend and he had told Bert is name, and then stated that his English name was Kevin!!!!

The next morning we all woke early and Kevin was keen to join us for breakfast. This proved once more to be very interesting. Kevin's thirst for knowledge and information knew no bounds. He informed us that they were all traveling firstly to Interlaken, then to Munich and finally to Amsterdam and the red light area. We all laughed and I told Kevin he had to be careful taking pictures. Over breakfast we talked about the history of his country and some of the events. He asked us if any of our parents had been to war......how old did he think we were? I mentioned my Grandfather was on the beaches on D Day. Kevin then proceeded to name every one of the beaches!

We returned the questions and mentioned that there were a lot of Oriental people on holiday and could he tell which countries they cam from. Very proudly he told us the countries people were from in the breakfast room. But the icing on the cake was when he told us that he can't tell where the western people come from because they all look the same........we all burst out laughing. I think we all could have stayed there all day swapping stories ........ Before we left Kevin was keen for our photograph and we reciprocated with a selfie.

As we continued on our Pilgrim journey we reflected on our experience with Kevin and both shared the same thought that an evening and morning was good, but 45 days....their holiday period, well Kevin's friends were very lucky to have his company!

Orbe to Lausanne

Friday 24 July 2015


We woke refreshed and raring to go. Today was to be a long day and with the hot sun and high temperatures it was not going to be easy.

Bernard insisted on showing us the way out of the town and a path that would give us some shelter and respite from the sun. It was very decent of him to provide this support, but one couldn't help but reflect it was like being marched out of town hoping we would never return! Bernard is not a young man and he walked at quite a pace with Bert and I trailing behind hoping he would slow down a bit. We were taken past the home and birthplace of Nestle and Nescafé and soon then on our own we followed the instructions we had been given to reach the river and the all important shade.


With the mission of reaching the river accomplished, we were both surprised to find the way markers for the official route we should have been following anyway. After ten kilometres and one of the first serious hill climbs so far we both took the opportunity of a log pile that sufficed as tables and chairs and soon our packs were discarded and we both replenished our energy levels.

After ten minutes of rest we set off once more but unfortunately we had not stopped at the top of the hill, and once more we were climbing as our path continued through the woods. At Goumoens-le-Lux the village shop had seats outside so we decided to have our first coffees for the day. We were greeted with a smile and enthusiasm at the walk we were undertaking and although the shop was due to close we were very welcome to sit outside as long as we wanted. It was nice to get the feet up, drink coffee, have our lunch and just enjoy the moment. Little did we know that we were being watched by a different 'wee man' from the roof across the road!



By now the midday sun was at its highest and hottest and we were only half way to the end of the day, so reluctantly we set off once more. The route continued on woodland tracks and minor roads. We are both of a similar mind and interests and neither of us would ever pass off the opportunity for a coffee, and about mid afternoon we spied a local hotel and dived to the nearest table under the shelter of a tree to once more to top up our fluid levels. Whilst sat there we were passed by our fellow Pilgrims but they carried on.

With fluids once more topped up, we set off on our final stretch, to the end point and the suburb of le-Mont-sur-Lausanne. Bert informed me that Luasanne was a very large city and from our end point it would not be a nice walk to the centre and our Backpackers accommodation, so we got the bus and did not feel guilty one bit!

Distance - 28.6 kilometres
Distance from Citeaux Abbey, Dijon - 162.8 kilometres

Jougne to Orbe

Thursday 23 July 2015


After the storm the previous day we woke to a cloudy, humid morning with the freshness of the rain hanging in the air. After a typical final French breakfast we set off to walk down from the village past the Chapel of St Maurice, parts of which date back to the nine century. The path continued along part of what was a Roman road and formerly a main route across the Swiss border - today there was just myself, Bert and Wee Man crossing.

At the first village we decided that it was time enough to search out a coffee spot. A local gentleman bid us bonjour and after asking the question we were told the hotel was closed but the local shop served coffee! Sure enough the hotel was closed so we turned round and popped into the shop. Two coffees later, a chat with the locals and we were once more on our way.

The area around here is littered with tank defences and bunkers from the Second World War. Some of the bunkers have been turned into barns and accommodation.

The route continued steeply down out into the valley bottom, before briefly climbing once more to pass alongside the valley gorge and the river snaking through it. We were in and out of the shade of the trees and the air was sticky and humid.

Before reaching our destination we came across two Pilgrims also from Holland. Bert burst into conversation and surprisingly was able to understand them. After swapping Pilgrim stories we continued once more to reach our final destination of Orbe and two very welcome cold beers each.

Once replete we head off to our accommodation which we had booked the previous night. Prices are generally expensive for accommodation and food in Switzerland, so any opportunity to save money is welcome. For this night we are Pilgrim guests of Bernard and Annette and our room was a small flat in the attic of there large farm house. With a small kitchen and living  / sleeping area, we did want for anything more. Bert informed me he did not cook so I offered to rustle something up. Once the shopping was completed we were soon dining on pasta arrabiata, fresh salad and a cool Chardonney to wash it down with.

With all the chores completed we just mooched around the flat before eventually heading outside and the cool evening air and then finally to bed.

Distance - 17.9 kilometres
Distance from Citeaux Abbey, Dijon - 134.2 kilometres

A new start and a new friend !

Tuesday / Wednesday 21/22 July 2015

Today I arrived where I left off in Pontalier, hopefully feet rested, bag lighter and now raring to go. Once again it was the usual routine, find somewhere for coffee and then head to the International hostel to wait for it to open at 5.30pm.

Looking towards La Cluse village and the valley beyond.

This time things were going to be much different. Fate had a pleasant surprise in store for me this time. After being quenched with good strong coffee I made my way to the hostel and sat in the sun to read my book and wait for it to open. It was at that point that fate was to deal its hand. I was again engrossed in another crime thriller and just reaching another exciting twist to the story when a man with a rucksack made his way towards me and sat down. I was to later on find out his name was Bert from Breda in Holland!

After sitting down he politely said, Bonjour and asked if I spoke French, Bonjour and no I only speak a little French. Agh you are English he replied easily and it was from that point onwards that fate arrived! It transpired as the conversations unfolded that we were both Pilgrims heading in the same direction although Bert planned on finishing in Aosta before returning to work and I was heading to Vercelli. We continued throughout the evening swapping stories about walking and generally getting to know each other.

The following morning although we were finishing in Jougne we were taking two separate routes. My day was a pleasant twenty kilometre walk after stocking up with supplies for the day at the Boulongerie. With rations purchased I continued out of Pontalier and was soon in the countryside following the train line to Switzerland. Train lines were to be a continuing theme for the day. 


My route soon took me away from the current railway line into a beautiful sunny valley and then up to the ancient monument of Chateaux Fort de Joux. After descending down a very steep and narrow path I arrived in Oye et Pallet. Once again to follow a railway line but this time one that had not seen a train for a long time. As I made my way along the ravaged, scarred and eroded surface it eventually transformed into a scenic railway line and to my surprise with two former Orient Express carriages being restored to carry passengers once more. 

Orient Express carriage being restored.

My route continued alongside the track which was not being used. By now it was early afternoon and the forecasted storm looked imminent with brooding black skies and a light breeze that was starting to increase in strength. My route was to leave the track but before that occurred the weather turned, the rain started to fall and the skies started to rumble and flicker with lightening. Now last year I was caught in a violent storm in the middle of a field as it passed over my head. Not wishing to experience that again I changed my route and continued along the line to the next village.

As I neared the village the rain was increasing in strength and despite the humid air I put my waterproof jacket on. Not long after that a motorway bridge came to my rescue and as the forces of nature literally fell out of the sky, I jumped onto the concrete barrier, put my feet up and replenished my energy, gleefully watching the torrents of water run down the road. Little did I know that this was going to be repeated twice before the end of the day!


After a well deserved break, some food and drink the weather eventually turned to one of very light drizzle and time to set off again on the last few kilometres to my Chambre de Hote for the night. I passed through the village, ignoring the numerous opportunities to quaff more of the dark nectar of French coffee. As I left I was soon to realise the error of my ways as the heavens once more emptied heavy rain down on me. I spied a pub not too far away in the direction I was travelling and with the thoughts of a coffee made a beeline following the shortest possible line.......Ferme (closed) it 
announced. Not being one to be defeated I hunkered down in the doorway, rucksack on the floor, feet elevated and 
watched the rain fall and the thunder and lightening bounce around the sky once more.

I checked my location in relation to my end point and realised that I was probably only 1km away, so as the rain eased off to a fine missel I set off on my third attempt to reach my destination dry. The route took me off the road and down to an underpass, unfortunately due to the heavy rain this now resembled a river and without a lightweight portable boat on hand I decided to do an about turn and follow the road. 



Formidable....... As I turned round the heavens opened again, I briefly hesitated under the smelly ugly underpass wondering what my step was going to be and spying a garage across the road I made my way there. Fortunately a jet 
wash canopy came to my rescue and a took shelter under it. I am sure the locals using the garage were quiet amused at the sight I presented, loitering without intent under there.












After another thirty minutes the clouds started to turn blue and the dark skies moved on and within about ten minutes I was finally walking through the door of the Hotel de Poste, my refuge for the night and a very welcome and very cold beer! They even had a welcome sign and Union Jack poster on the reception desk......just for me.





Distance - 19.3 kilometres
Distance from Citeaux Abbey, Dijon - 116.3 kilometres

I took the bus !

Monday 29th June 2015

I had decided to throw caution to the wind and get the bus to Portarlier where I was to base myself until Thursday, hopefully by then I would be able to continue walking the planned route to Rome. My choice of getting the bus meant that I had be up just after six to ensure I took full advantage of the all you could eat breakfast buffet again. Both targets were met and just before 8am I checked out of the hotel.

At 8.30 prompt the bus arrived and now feeling confident with speaking a Yorkshire dialect French I asked for my bus ticket and was very surprised to be only asked for only three Euros. Now this must be either a child or pensioners fare surely……non. By now I was feeling even more chuffed with myself because if I had taken the train it would have taken me thirty minutes longer, involved two station changes and cost an additional thirteen Euros. Well at last something was starting to go right.

The journey from Besancon to Pontarlier is the same direction I would take if I had been walking and I will have to return to Besancon if my journey is to be completed properly. With that in mind I gazed in awe at the landscape that rolled out before me. A steady climb out of the valley from Bescancon that seemed to go on for ever. With high granite cliff faces swathed in lush green canopies of trees that stretched as far as the eye could see, I knew that walking through this I would be faced with an interesting journey. Thinking that we had reached the top we rounded a corner only to be faced with more of the same. The bus confidently swept round the corners with a huge drop to the valley floor on the side that I had chosen to sit. I confess I did take a few large deep breaths as the rear tyre scuffed the kerb stone and on occasions with just a very low stone wall from certain doom, I prayed the driver would not suddenly sneeze or decide to answer his phone. From one valley we progressed through a tunnel in the cliff into the next valley before we left it behind as we had reached the summit over 800 metres high.

The landscape changed and now continued to be a rich verdant green with lush meadows being grazed by happy,  lazy doleful cows in the sun. Soon we were approaching Pontarlier station and the end of my journey. 

With my rucsac once more on my back I stepped off the bus in search of my accommodation. As promised, I found it close by and checked in. I was greeted with some surprise though when I asked if it was open all day so I could rest my feet. It transpired that it is closed between 10am and 2pm when I could then sneak in using my keycard on the night door at the back of the building. I wandered to my room, a four bedded one rather than the eight I had expected, and with a balcony which I will take great advantage of. As there were no secure storage lockers in the room I removed items from my rucsac I didn’t mind losing and with the rest remaining where they were I went into town for my second coffee of the day and a mooch around.

Wee Man even managed to jump in the fountain for a cool down........

Pontarlier had a history with Absinthe, since the early 19th century it was forbidden to be distilled. I believe this tradition has been resurrected more recently and aside from that it is not a very big town and only a small heart to it. I am sure with my limited movements, as I am forced to vacate my abode, I will get round the centre a few times.