Where Are You Staying?

A tale from our hike through France

It had been a long day of walking through the French countryside. Our feet had carried us twenty kilometers and, though our backpacks were as light as we could make them, they were slowly nudging into our lower backs as we took each step.

Photos by the author

We had strapped on our packs and left the small town of Illiers-Combray after a delightful breakfast with Monsieur. The trail took us through fields where the mist still hovered and pheasants pecked, undisturbed by our quiet footfalls. Later, as the sun rose hot, we walked through a barnyard with a barking dog then climbed over a stile as we followed the trail into the woods. At lunch, we stopped in a churchyard in a tiny village, eased our packs off, sat on a bench and ate our lunch of baguette, cheese and apple in the shade of a 12th century chapel. To our left, a menhir stood guard where it had been planted 4,000 years ago. We pulled out our trail maps and traced our afternoon hike then strapped the packs back on and set off.

After an hour or so, we were sweating in the afternoon heat and we had no water left. But as we neared the next village, we saw a mobile grocery truck stopped by the side of the road. A customer stood below its open awning, ordering her groceries for the week. We got in line behind her and purchased a couple of bottles of water, enough to tide us over until evening.

Around five o’clock, we reached our destination and entered it through an old city gate. The town of Bonneval lies along the less famous Loir river and is known as the little Venice of that region of France. Beautiful fortifications and houses line the river and give it a quaint, medieval feel. But when we arrived, we were mostly looking for a place to stay and stopped in at the tourist office to ask about lodging. The closest hostel was four kilometers out of town and seemed too far for our weary bones. So the clerk suggested a hotel on the downtown square.

Our packs felt a little lighter with the knowledge of a place to stay and, sure enough, as we turned the corner, we spied the front of a quaint hotel. We walked in, glad for a home for the night. The innkeeper approached us. “Bonjour, Monsieur. Can we reserve a room for the night, please?” I asked.

He looked at me for an instant then seemed to get angry. “What are you doing? What is this? Are you crazy? What are you thinking?”

“But, Monsieur,” I hesitated, “we are just hoping you have a room for us tonight.” He seemed to calm down. “Yes, I luckily have one room left that I can give you. But never do this again! You can’t just show up and hope to get a room on the spot. Where are you staying tomorrow night?”

“We don’t know yet. We’re not sure where our hike will end up.”

“Well, before you leave here tomorrow morning, I want you to call the next place so I know you have a place to stay. Don’t ever do this again!”

Chastened, we lugged our packs and followed him up the stairs to a very nice room. As he turned to leave, he said “I’ll serve you breakfast in the morning in our little dining room and you better have a firm lodging for tomorrow night.”

That night, we ate our thrown together meal looking out of our room windows onto the little town square and planned our next hike. We made a reservation on a farm with rooms to rent. The next morning, Monsieur served us a tasty and beautiful breakfast in his sunny front room then asked us “Did you find a place for tonight?” “Yes,” I dutifully replied. “We’ll be fine.” And we were. The next day, our hike took us further down the river Loir, and from the river valley, we climbed up to a wonderful French farm with a bedroom and a kitchen where we cooked a warm meal and enjoyed some down time.

We will always remember that evening in Bonneval.

Thank you for reading La Bonne Vie!