20 Jun Chalon sur Saone
Only 12 km, but for Johanna they were like 30 km. Her foot did not get better. As we approached Chalon sur Saone, we noticed that is a somewhat larger city. We walked through high-rise housing developments, across very wide streets and crossed a large suspension bridge, the “Pont de Bourgogne”. This was also the name of the campground we finally reached. At the reception we asked for a mobile home, a permanent accommodation and indeed there was still something available. We booked three nights at once. We entered our temporary home, Johanna almost jumped for joy, because we had a toilet and a shower in the house. This luxury info and the thunder weather forecast caused us to extend our stay by 2 days. Thus, Johanna’s foot should also get enough time to cope with the pain.
Johanna rested and I made my first round in the city. I walked along the Saone, crossed a small bridge, followed a small path, this led me to a slightly larger stoop and this led me into another world. I was standing at the beginning of an alley lined with restaurants and bars. French, Italian, Indian, Moroccan, Chinese and some …ish more. At the end of the alley I had to cross a bridge, then I realized that I was still not in the city, but on one of the two river islands to be crossed.
Now I had reached the city, just walked straight ahead in amazement. I looked to the left, to the right, upwards and often turned around my own axis. It was so impressive, all the little store in the old houses, above me teasing garlands and bizarre street lamps. “Chalon sur Savon” that’s also a reason for my trip, places whose names I’ve never heard before, that just happen to be a waypoint on my route and yet absolutely blow me away.
I looked at alley after alley, just drifted as usual, bought myself an ice cream with three delicious, huge scoops, and enjoyed this on a square in front of the church/dome. While I was celebrating the ice cream, the thought occurred to me that I would not be surprised now if in the tavern across the street Alexandre Duma was drinking a wine and from a window in the alley next to it D’Artagnan was jumping, fighting with his friends Athos, Porthos and Aramis against Rochefort’s soldiers. This is exactly what describes the charm of French cities. French people love flowers, wine, meat and the old, you feel completely transported back in time.
In the following days I visited the city many times and it lost nothing of its splendor for me.
We also used the time to check our luggage for items we didn’t really need and as a result, sent 2 packages home.
In addition, this time the weather oracle was right and there was a good thunderstorm with many downpours on two days.
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