Day 7: From the Seine to the Eure

Until yesterday I'd never been far from the Seine. I walked along it in Paris for the first mile of my journey, and so far I've crossed it six times.

Leaving the outskirts of Vernon, I walked west, climbing a steep slope to the plateau above the river. This was my first time walking on footpaths and bridleways and it was good to get away from tarmac for a while.

I walked past the Orwellian-sounding "National Centre for Prevention and Protection", an extensive complex enclosed behind eight-feet fencing, topped with barbed wire and two further coils of razor wire beneath. I looked it up and found that it does research into fire safety and other risks. Curious then, that there's so much security. I wonder what else they do.

The "no admittance" signs warned of surveillance patrols and sure enough I was passed by a leather-jacketed driver who turned around a few hundred metres along the road and came past again, taking a good look at me. I thought it prudent to take no photographs.

Villez-sous-Bailleul, like the other hamlets I passed through, had no shop or cafe. I lunched, in a bus shelter in Champenard, on a delicious goats cheese and bacon sandwich that I'd picked up from the supermarket next to the hotel.

The road across the Plain des Noes took me through huge fields of yellow rape and green wheat beneath a wide sky. Further on, La Liége was especially pretty and the deep valleys and woods were filled with birdsong. (I tried to record some of it on my mobile phone and I've uploaded it the blog - not sure how well it will come out).

The beautiful scenery was matched, even outshone, by a glorious cloudscape. Towering cumulous nimbus clouds were growing ever taller against a background of mare's tails and little cumulous humilis scuttled along in front. I doubt that the camera on my phone will do it justice.

Several times I paused, not only to rest but to take in the sheer beauty of the places through which I was walking. I've never seen France this way. Our family holidays have been in the summer, and we've never lingered in Upper Normandy. The lushness of it all was amazing, everything alive and growing.

One consequence of taking the paths away from the Seine is that I climbed more hills than I have so far. The whole walk for the day was 13.5 miles but it felt longer due to the up-and-down terrain. I've got better at judging the amount of water to carry but hauling my pack took some effort.

So it was serendipitous that today's walking verse was 1 Samuel 17.39: David strapped Saul's sword over the armour and he tried in vain to walk, for he was not used to them. Then David said to Saul, "I cannot walk with these..", so he removed them.

The passage is written humourously. Not only is the impending fight between David and Goliath a total mismatch but the young boy can't even dress for battle. I can imagine David's feeble reply when the royal armourer asked proudly how it feels to wear the best armour in the kingdom: "I can't walk!"

By comparison, my pack has been working very well and the equipment I've brought along has been excellent. I even found a use for the bulldog clips by making a clothes line for my hotel room.

Deciding what I needed to bring with me wasn't easy. I love to be prepared and the temptation was to equip myself with every conceivable gadget and trinket. One of the things I'm learning from the sabbatical is that to rely more on God's providence. It's okay not to be prepared for every eventuality.

I imagine the horror on the faces of David's compatriots as he struggled out of the armour, lay down the massive sword and instead prepared for the fight with the giant Goliath with his sling and five smooth stones from the stream.

My prayer is, "Lord, help me to trust you more for what I need and equip me for each challenge I face. Amen."

I descended the slopes on the western side of the plateau along a bumpy unpaved track, just as rain began to fall. It took me a while to find the hotel in pretty Cailly-sur-Eure but it was a lovely change from the Formule 1 experience. I'd ordered a room "soiree etape" (half-board) and ate every morsel of a three-course dinner, washed down with a half-carafe of house red.

Having had less than six hours sleep the previous night I fell asleep in the closing moments of the Champions League match between Manchester United and Arsenal.