Magda claims that in my first blogs I talked too much about nuns and monks. I simply set myself the goal of staying with communities a few times, and it was a positive experience. Today I leave after the Lauds and breakfast with the enclosed Benedictine nuns of Autun and head to Paray-le-Monial, a distance of 90 km. My B&B for the night is arranged through Airbnb, and apart from paying in advance and stating why you want to stay with that person, there is no contact. Later, a key will be waiting for me in a specially secured box at the door of the country house, eagerly waiting to be opened. This is the new hospitality, thanks to computers... Enough about that. But there are still two abbeys where I will stay before I reach Arles: one with Benedictines and one with Orthodox nuns who close the door at 5 p.m., so I definitely need to be on time; otherwise, I'll be sleeping outside…
Dawn from my window. The cathedral and the streets in the sleeping city of Autun.
After a short tour through the still-sleeping city of Autun, through the small alleys, I resolutely head in the direction of Roanne, which I must follow until I reach a turnoff, then another 12 km to cycle to reach Paray-le-Monial. I follow small departmental roads without using Google Maps for cyclists because it absolutely wants me to go on adventures, and I don't want that: I am too old for adventures, and secondly, I have pain in my right buttock. Aunt Nicole, an excellent pharmacist, recommended a cream called Dermalex, which the French pharmacist I visited knew of, but it is not sold in France. She gave me something that she says is almost as good as the Belgian product. A Frenchwoman who says something like that is certainly not chauvinistic, unlike most French people, especially during the Olympic Games.
The landscape of the Morvan. The church of Toulon-sur-Arroux and Lucy who welcomes me.
I'm still cycling through the Morvan with really quiet little roads, a bit up and a bit down, although the solitary cyclist always has the impression that the uphill section is longer than the downhill one. On the way, I reach the town of Toulon-sur-Arroux, with a small Romanesque church from the 11th and 12th centuries. It is dedicated to John the Baptist, Jesus' cousin, who baptized Jesus but later had his head cut off for the sake of a beautiful dancer. It is one of the rare Romanesque churches with a Romanesque triforium; this is the middle level of a wall, usually found in Gothic architecture. Lucy, a student who will start law school next year, works there for the municipality to welcome tourists, about 30-40 per day, she says. The church has been deconsecrated for more than 100 years and is now an exhibition space with only religious art. Among other things, there is a pen drawing of Abbé Pierre, which is (for now) still hanging there. It was a nice discovery.
Interior of the church, now an exhibition space. The unique triforium and a capital.
Then I stop at an Aldi for a rustic French baguette, a pot of duck rillettes, some French Emmental, and a 1664 beer: it doesn't get more French than that.
Earlier than expected, around 1 p.m., I arrive in Paray-le-Monial, where, thanks to the code I received via email from Airbnb, I can open the box with the key to enter the small flat. Everything is in perfect order. My bike can even sleep with me because they have set up a small bed on its side. Here, I couldn't stay in a monastery because they didn't even respond to my repeated emails.
Paray-le-Monial: the abbey church and surroundings , the Tour Saint Nicolas and a beautiful house
After a shower, I go to explore the town, with the main goal of visiting the well-known Romanesque church, which is a copy of the abbey church of Cluny, almost entirely demolished during the Revolution. This Romanesque church is now called the Basilica of the Sacred Heart, named after a dissolute woman who became religious in the 1670s and had visions of Jesus Christ himself, which led to the worship of the Sacred Heart that was further developed in later centuries. The church has beautiful Romanesque octagonal towers, lovely Romanesque entrances without tympanums, and in the narthex on the west side, there are beautifully carved capitals with many symbols. One symbol that often recurs is the pinecone, representing eternal life. There are also some wild cat-like creatures with long, dirty tongues that naturally symbolize Satan and evil. The church is built from yellow-red stone, giving the building an almost golden color. Inside the church, there are also some beautiful sculptures and stained glass windows to see. It's also nice and cool inside when it's (too) warm outside..
Paray-le-Monial: Interior of the abbey church and the capital with the cat-like creatures.
Beautiful parks and cozy streets, the Tour Saint Nicolas, formerly a church, give the town a pleasant atmosphere. But the first half of August sees Marian/religious days here, and then there are too many people on the streets. It wasn't quiet today.
After wandering around for an hour and a half, I do some shopping at a Carrefour Express. Tonight, I'm cooking for myself: an omelet with tomato, white onion, and cheese with a piece of French bread, accompanied by a large Pelforth Brune; it will be a feast. I hope to be in bed by 9 p.m. Tomorrow, I cycle to the Monastère Bénédictin de St Pierre in Pradines, about 70 km away; sorry, Magda, it will be monks again. I'm taking it slower now because the first days were too intense.
The stretch I am now cycling from Vézelay is actually a sort of pre-route for pilgrims who want to walk or cycle from Le Puy-en-Vélay to Santiago, until Montbrison past Charlieu, but that's for later. I hope it hasn't become too long; every day Magda hammers on these two adjectives: short and not too preachy... we're doing our best.
Paray-le-Monial:the Abbey church
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