Since I had a long road ahead, I decided to leave the shelter at around 6:30 a.m. However, I stopped at a bakery and ended up spending a whole hour there, unable to get my day started. It took me three large coffees to gather enough energy before I hit the road. I went off track to take a shortcut and walk along the road. I felt like I might have pushed myself a bit too hard because my heels started to hurt.
I walked slowly but surely, still managing to enjoy the view. This time of year is especially beautiful with the fallen leaves covering the ground.
I made it to a small town called Brioux-sur-Boutonne, an interesting place with buildings that seemed to rise directly from the river, like this one.
I went into a café there. I sat at the counter and ordered a coffee, no sugar. A man sitting next to me was drinking a beer. While I stayed there, he had two more, and I wondered if he’d had some before or would have more after. He had two packs of cigarettes on the counter, and some of his teeth were missing. I wondered what kind of life he had lived to be hurt this way. I felt sorry for him; he seemed like a kind soul. One of his drinking buddies arrived, and we talked for a bit. He even offered to drive me to the next town, 20 km away, but I wanted to make it alive, so I politely declined his offer.
After a second coffee, I hit the road again. Surprisingly, my legs weren’t really in pain, and I managed to walk at a decent pace. The day was sunny, and the color of the sky was incredible—deep blue with clouds popping out. I decided to take a break to enjoy the view. My legs hurt, but my mind was sharp. Mens sana in corpore sano. Today was the first day I had more elaborate thoughts, not just basic survival or focusing on my problems.
While sitting, I closed my eyes and listened to the sound of the leaves. It inspired me to write this short poem:
Le doux bruissement des feuilles
Va, m'emportant sur le seuil
Des limbes de la folie
Qui me toisent avec envie
Mais je garde le pied ferme
Traçant ma route serein
Avec l'intention même,
De continuer mon chemin
Assez de toutes ces excuses, il est temps
Pour moi d'assumer mes sentiments, et dès lors
Assez! De ma lâcheté qui blesse les gens
Et de voir tous ces êtres chers qui s'évaporent
I never believed I was good at writing poems but I've always enjoyed it since I was a kid. It has some cathartic effect on me.
Writing it down reminds me of that scene in Illusions perdues by Balzac, where Lucien, the young countryside aristocrat, is mocked for the poverty of his poetry.
Well, I like it, so I’ll share it anyway.
As I continued walking, I tried to take a shortcut. It was a path rarely used and completely overrun with thorns. I felt like Indiana Jones carving my way through the wild. I wasn’t very well equipped, so I ended up with a few scratches, but it still felt like an achievement!
When I was about 1 km away from my final destination, Aulnay-de-Saintonge, I realized how much I had accomplished so far. Nine days, about 250 km. I had overcome tiredness, loneliness, and managed to find answers to some big questions in my life. I felt truly empowered. I was no longer just a passive spectator but an active participant. This was my choice, my trial, and so far, I had managed to overcome each difficulty presented during this challenge. There are still 10 days to go, but my resolve has only strengthened. This is a tough, yet incredibly rewarding adventure.
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