ALBENGA–ARLES

We spent the second half of August 2014 on a pilgrimage from northern Italy to southern France. Our journey led literally from one valley to another, through Liguria’s landscapes and the dusty plains of Provence.

Eight pedestrian pilgrims and two cyclists took part in the whole expedition. We all met on Monday afternoon at Milan Central Station. Unlike previous treks, there was multi-national diversity only on the first two days, spent in Milan and Castelseprio. There, we were accompanied by an Italian postgraduate student of art history, Franceso Lovino. For the rest of the way, our conversation was held in the Czech language, spiced up by Schallo’s Slovak. The makeup of our expedition also changed considerably this year. In addition to the regular participants, professor Ivan Foletti, Karolínka, Betty, Schallo and Kristýna, five pilgrim newcomers from Brno – Ondřej, Monika, Daniela, Sabina and Tereza – joined in.

After our first night spent outside in Castelseprio and the following morning spent in admiration of the slowly fading murals inside the church, our journey led us to Pavia by train. There, we visited the Crypt of St. Eusebia, with its unique Langobard capitals and the medieval basilica of San Michele Maggiore. After having dinner in the portal of the basilica, we took the train to the starting point of our pilgrimage, Albenga. Since we arrived after sunset, it was challenging to find a place to sleep. Eventually, we took the night watch and slept on the edge of the beach. The next day, after visiting the local baptistery, we set out toward the distant hills. From there, we wandered through the valleys and crossed into horizons of Liguria. We slept where we could – for example, in the garden of an abandoned house, in an ancient cemetery behind the apse of the church, in the olive grove of a lovely French-German couple who provided us refuge, on a lookout under the shelter of a pilgrimage church, in a park. As is the tradition of wanderers, we ate only local food or what we found along the way. Some members of the expedition especially enjoyed loads of blackberries and figs, growing along the roads. Others preferred local specialties in the form of fresh grapes, fennel, tomatoes and cheese, smoked meats, selected types of tapenade and bread.

Crossing the mountain ridges would have been time-consuming, so we decided to tackle the almost 140 km-long journey between the Italian city of St. Romulo and the French Fréjus by hitchhiking. In order to get to the destination as quickly as possible, professor Foletti and Schallo decided to cycle this part. We all met in the square at Fréjus in the late evening and looked for a place to sleep after a hearty dinner. Since the local police carefully guarded the entire city, this was not an easy task. Eventually, we lay down on the beach behind the city center. It would have been quite a calm night if it wasn't for the movement of a big boat, which was docked just a few meters from our heads, and a tractor, which cleaned the beach at 3 o'clock in the morning. It rumbled in our immediate vicinity for almost half an hour, raising a cloud of sand around it. The next day, we filled two washing machines with clothes at a laundromat and took a tour of the Fréjus Baptistery with its preserved ancient capitals, a cathedral renovated in the 19th century and an adjacent monastery with a painted medieval ceiling. As we sorted the laundry in front of the cathedral and held up the individual pieces above our heads, women passing by stopped and looked at the clothes with interest and hopeful looks. They probably had the impression that we were a traveling flea market. When they found out that all the pieces had owners, who would not give them up, they went away.

With the crossing of borders, not only did the landscape change, climbing considerably and losing humidity, but local gastronomy and food prices did, too. In Provence, we enjoyed ubiquitous lavender, blackberries and local pâtés, cheese, wine, vegetable spreads, apple puree and edible chestnuts. Breakfast included fresh croissants and pain au chocolat. The sleeping conditions were also different. We mostly slept in fields, the vineyards among the grapevines, or in meadows. However, we were also honored by local hospitality. Past Aix-en-Provence, we asked locals for an overnight stay. Not only did they allow us to sleep in their garden, but they also invited us to swim in their pool. We remember that invitation with infinite gratitude. After a hot day in the city center, swimming in lukewarm water was a real treat.

In France, we also visited the abbey of Thoronet, where we examined the entire monastery complex. We were allowed to wash ourselves with a hose in the garden, which suited many of us just fine after a few sweltering days. Due to time constraints, we were forced to hitchhike to the final destinations: Aix-en-Provance and Arles. At Aix, like the old pilgrims, we made full use of the potential of the local Saint-Sauveur Cathedral. Not only did we inspect it, but we also found protection from the rain inside. When the sun came out again, we occupied the space outside, right next to the Cathedral’s facade, drying our things and indulging in a sweet siesta. Only that locals and passers-by were worried that something had happened to us and wondered if we needed help. It was similar in Arles. There in the city center, we also happened to meet a participant from the last pilgrimage, Sandrina from the Université de Lausanne.

Arles was breathtaking, not only for its very windy climate, immemorial origins and late ancient monuments, which we also saw in the Musée de l’Arles et de la Provence, but also for the church of St. Trophimus. We admired its unique portal, richly decorated with carved saints and biblical scenes, not only at lunch, which we had directly below it, but also throughout the afternoon. Since we were late to the adjacent monastery, we experienced the local guards' degree of self-sacrifice. We left all our luggage in the cathedral, which its staff then removed to close the building. After that, local police came to guard the mound of our backpacks. As soon as they discovered that the things had found their owners, they said goodbye and were gone.

In Arles, our journey was definitely over. We gradually departed from there in several directions, and the last of us left Arles on Tuesday, September 2. The whole pilgrimage was exceptional, not only because of its entirely new route and a cycling “flight” formed for the very first time by two bicycles, but also because of the accident-free nature of the trip. The weather was also very good and provided us with pleasant temperatures and almost no showers. We were lucky in this, because we didn't have enough tarps. Inexplicably, the tarpaulin had remained in Brno. Maybe because it knew we wouldn't need it.