Day 48 – at Saint-Quirin

The two 26 year old cyclists I had spent last evening with lived up to their personas of being chalk and cheese, leaving several hours apart this morning. Lars, full of ego and assurance, was away at 7:30 am, only to report back via Strava late in the day he had not passed one food outlet or shop all day, and in the end had had to resort to his tinned sardines. Harvey hummed and hawed, unsure of his route, uncertain as to his packing, undecided about taking his tent down in the dew, in two minds about the drinking water, and had not yet left when the dog and I headed out into the forest at 11:30 am.

They were good fun.

We headed up to the Haute-Chapelle after a coffee in the village, and followed a circuit around the forest, of which there are so many. That really is the appeal of the area, very few visitors, and very many options for the hiker or biker. Yet the village, Saint Quirin, is on hard times, and the pandemic will not have helped. There are some very nice houses around its edges, but the cafe looks like it needs a refurb, many houses are for sale, and the bakery, the only shop in the village, has closed down. It is still referred to though as one of France’s most beautiful villages.

We were back for late lunch, as ever, and for me to continue with a very special book I am reading, Carson McCullers’s The Heart is. a Lonely Hunter. I’m a big fan of southern American writing and here McCullers demonstrates an astonishing humanity in her consideration of black characters; she writes with ease and a sense of justice that transcends politics. She simply does despair so very well.

It is one of the strangest, and most powerful books I have ever read.

My review at https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/940353.The_Heart_Is_a_Lonely_Hunter.