Day 8: Northwest along the Eure - 2nd attempt

I'm getting some flaky internet connections and it looks like the post about yesterday was truncated. Here's another go, without the pictures.

I woke with a sore throat, which has been developing for a couple of days. I'm hoping it's just hay fever or something to do with dusty roads, rather than the start of a full-blown cold.

I had a shock last night when I got changed. My right leg is badly swollen, from halfway down the shin to my ankle. The bruising from the fall on Wednesday still hasn't come out properly.

I lay sideways on the bed with my leg propped up agains the wall, hoping to reduce the swelling. But when I woke this morning, it's still just as bad. I've been taking ipbuprofen too. It doesn't hurt much and isn't stopping me walking but in the night I started to worry that if it gets worse I might have to rest up for a while.

I began yesterday by breakfasting with Ron and Mike, two retired Brits whose hotel room was just down the corridor from me. They're returning to London having spent two months in Montpellier on their barge, the "Osseo". "Do you know Longfellow?", asked Ron.

I half-remembered something about Hiawatha but shook my head. "Osseo was the magician." said Mike. "We named our barge after him."

Ron and Mike were good company and we spent an hour comparing France and the UK, with France generally scoring better. We talked about the health services in particular. France has a very high ratio of doctors to the population and it sometimes seems that the French worry more about their health than anything else.

"I had a rash on my arm last year," said Ron. "I went to the doctor who suggested I see a top skin specialist. He rang her while I was in his consulting room, put the phone down and asked if I could get to her in the next half-hour. Imagine that happening in the UK!"

Ron went on to say that he underwent every kind of test imaginable and that he left with a twenty-five page dossier on his health.

When Mike went into hospital for a minor condition they kept him there for three weeks. "We had to threaten them with arranging an air ambulance back to the UK, just to get him out!", said Ron.

Mike and Ron have travelled the world, Mike as a ship's engineer and Ron in the airline industry. They bought their barge in Holland twenty years ago and have sailed the canals all across Western Europe.

"You should try walking the canals.", said Ron. "They all have towpaths and we see lots of walkers."

I'll check the maps again but I don't think any canals are on my route until I get to Worcester.

It was a straightforward day's walk, twelve miles bringing my total so far to 90. Rather than taking the Route National as planned, I switched to the west bank of the Eure, which is one of a small number of rivers that flow from south to north. I bought a quiche and a baguette (which I strapped to the back of my rucksack) in Heudreville-sur-Eure and walked through the strung-out town of Acquigny. Here, every second house had a snarling dog.

Dogs have er... dogged me for most of my walk. It appears to me that the French love them even more than the British. It's a love which I confess I don't share.

Parisiens have silly little dogs, which they carry in specially made holders. The dog's head peeps out while the owner takes them for a walk, their feet never touching the ground.

Out in the country, the dogs are larger, fiercer and louder. They guard their owner's property behind high walls and fences which allow the dog just enough sight of the passer-by to arouse their fury.

Come to think about it, I've seen only a few passers-by in all my journey, so I imagine my appearance has delivered a treat to every hound on my walk.

The presence of a guard dog is often marked with a placque on the gate "Chien Merchant". Yesterday I passed a property with no fence or gate; the slavering hound was tied to a tree by a long length of rope instead. Above it was nailed a skull-and-crossbones sign. I got the message.

The dogs are usually dozing as I approach and it's become clear that I startle them by my footsteps when I'm virtually at their door. If they're far away, they come bounding down to the fence and their barking normally triggers all the other dogs in the street to join in.

I'm getting used to the angry barking but while approaching Louviers, something else happened that frightened me out of my skin.

I was walking along the pavement when i was very nearly hit by a car. Actually, that's exagerrating. I was very nearly hit by a piece of a car.

I was reading my map at the time when I heard a bang, and a loud metallic scraping sound. A Renault Clio was passing me quickly and its wheeltrim had detached itself and was skidding along in my direction. I skipped to the side and it rolled past harmlessly.

My walking verse for the day was 1 Kings 3.14, which comes from a dream that King Solomon had, in which he hears God's response to his prayer for wisdom. "If you will walk in my ways, keeping my statutes and commandments, as your father David walked, then I will lengthen your life."

Here's God's promise to Solomon, a longer life if he stays on track.
"Lord, keep me on course with you, forgive me when I forget your ways and lead me home. Amen."

Louviers is a delightful town, with a pretty but rather unkempt church in the centre. The structure is supported by the thinnest of flying buttresses and the stonework is very delicate. There are many fine half-timbered buildings in Louviers and the river in the town centre makes for an attractive setting.

I left on the disappointingly busy D343, past a prehistoric menhir (standing stone - like the stones at Stonehenge but only one of them) and decided to take a detour onto a quieter country road that led past a wonderful chateau, which was also a stud farm.

I dropped down into the outskirts of Le Vaudreuil, where another Formule 1 was waiting for me.
I changed, showered and crossed the main road for dinner at a nearby restaurant. I very much enjoyed a fish, white, firm in texture delicately flavoured. It was called 'cabillaud' and I looked it up when I got back. So that was cod and chips then!