Stavelot to Commanster: Day 123

Another hot, sunny day walking over the wooded hills of the Ardennes.

Last night I ate a lovely meal of lamb (which my wife would have found too red and rare), cous cous, roasted tomatoes and chicory. Unfortunately on leaving my chair I experienced a sharp pain in my back, around my right buttock. Although not the first time I had experienced such an injury, it did mean I walked down the street a bit wonky and lopsided. After several hundred metres the pain and stiffness eases.

I failed to find a Bed & Breakfast for tonight, they all appeared to be booked for the weekend, perhaps as people enjoyed the good weather. As there was no campsite near my day's destination I am wild camping. Not wanting to set up my tent too early (to minimise the risk of being spotted) I progressed at a leisurely pace. First I enjoyed breakfast in Stavelot before pausing at the ruins of the abbey. The town was the scene of fierce fighting in the Second World War, when the Germans mounted an offensive in the later part of the conflict called the Battle of the Bulge. An American half track vehicle was on permanent display beside a bridge as one of the memorials to the fierce fighting that took place here.

American half track at Stavelot.

As Ardennes' towns tend to be in the valleys, my walk today began with a long climb up to the plateau of deciduous woodland, conifer forests and cow pasture. After a long stretch at the top it was down into a valley again to arrive at the small town of Vielsam. This was an opportunity to top up my water supplies with some expensive mineral water which I purchased from a Friterie stall along with a cheese burger. 

View over pasture to wooded hills beyond.

Path through tall conifers.

Being Saturday I lot of people were out for the day; walking, cycling or mushroom picking in the woods. A group on electric bikes passed me twice, effortlessly gliding uphill while I laboured up rather more slowly. I refused to be envious, achieving something by the sweat of your brow (literally in this case) is a greater accomplishment than relying on a battery.

On reaching the village of Commanster I searched for the café marked on Google, to buy some refreshment. The café was in a "chateau", a group of aged, stone buildings around a courtyard, one, an old barn, with a large crack. A customer at one of the two tables, pointed to a door with an "Open" sign. I walked into the hall and on my right was a small room, maybe once a kitchen with a large fireplace, now with a small bar. The only drink I could see on offer was beer, which, if I understood correctly, the owner brewed himself. I ordered a small glass. Dark brown, strong and flavoursome I enjoyed it outside at the empty table, thinking the whole group of buildings were in need of renovation, but that it would also destroy some of the character. A lady and her husband who had been sitting by the bar came out complaining it was cold inside. They tried extremely hard to converse with me in French and extracted from me my age and that I was from England. The husband thought I was walking to Santiago de Compostela, the second person today to make that mistake. They managed to get out of me that I had caught a train to Maastricht and had three dogs, they had a little one and the lady disliked cats. This information was passed with a great deal of effort due to my lack of French and it was only because they persisted in rephrasing the questions a few times and spoke slowly that I managed to understand what they were saying. As I left a highly polished, classic, white Peugeot swept into the courtyard, the model that copied the Austin Cambridge with wings at the back. It added an aura of class to a place from a bygone age.

Vieux Chateau de Commanster with a glass of the landlord's beer.

Leaving the village I walked into the next area of woodland. Finding a grassy spot out of sight of the road I have pitched up. My only concern is that there are a few raised hides of the type used by hunters. Not sure if it is currently deer hunting season but the hunters have been known to accidentally confuse people with deer...