Stage 1: Out from Paris to Sceaux

Leaving Paris - Many Choices

The Tour de Saint Jacques

The tower of Saint Jacques is the traditional start of the pilgrimage route from Paris. The tower is big and hard to miss, sitting just north of the Seine, maybe one block west of the Cathedral of Notre Dame.   

  

Starting our pilgrimage at the Tour de Saint Jacques (tower of St. James)

The tower is taller than anything else in the area, and sits in the middle of its own park, which takes up an entire city block. Though not marked on some maps (argh!!) it is still hard to miss. The problem here is that there doesn't seem to be any way to get your pilgrim credential stamped. Even though everybody tells me that is possible, I walked around three times, asked local restaurants and bars, asked people in the park, and even asked the information kiosk -- Parisian information kiosks deserve a post all for themselves :( Nobody knew anything about it.

The Cathedral at Notre Dame

Our second stop was always intended to be the Cathedral at Notre Dame, so we decided to go there and get our first stamp to start our Camino.

When we arrived at Notre Dame, there was a line of tourists snaking around the courtyard, and from what we say, it appeared that we would have to wait in line for hours just to start our walk. We decided to do an end run and went to where people where coming OUT, and asked the guard there (well, actually, we waived our credentials and made strange noises that to us sounded like French but to the guard sounded like Klingon). Mercifully, he let us IN the EXIT and pointed to the reception desk/gift shop and so we bypassed the entire line and got our first stamp right away. It was a joyous event.

The Rue de Saint Jacque

We were convinced that we wanted as much as possible to follow the traditional pilgrim path, so as we left the little island in the middle of the Seine, where the Cathedral is located, we started to head south on the Rue de Saint Jacque, where we had been told to look out for scallop symbols on buildings and in the sidewalks, etc.

Going here was a bit difficult. First off, we were quite wide and trying to fight our way along narrow CROWDED sidewalks carrying heavy backpacks proved difficult. Parisians, known for their lack of consideration, were actually quite helpful and giving, but there are only so many ways to squeeze through a crowd, and many times we found ourselves bumping against people, children, and shop displays. Actually, made us, as Americans, look a bit boorish.

Anyway, in time, we followed the same road as it changed names a few times, and eventually we reached a freeway that there was no way to pass. Out came the maps (in my case the iPad) and we found we had to backtrack several blocks, go around a construction site, and then cross the freeway. At that point we were quite a distance from our intended route, and so we worked our way back and settled on the pathway we had originally intended. All was uneventful from there.

We hadn't known about the Coulee Vert at this stage, but if we had, it might have been a better choice.

The "Coulee Vert"

The Coulee Vert is a truly amazing freeway that passes from Paris south to the town of Massey, for a distance of around 9 miles. We stumbled upon it around halfway down the path to our first night's destination, and fell in love with it instantly. Pedestrian walkways, separate bicycle paths, green overhanging trees and meandering paths. Just beautiful. We resolved that someday, if we did the Camino again, we would start out that way and avoid the hassles we ran into leaving Paris by the traditional route.

Turns out that may not be such an easy thing. To find the Coulee Vert at it's source in Paris, can be something of a challenge it seems. I have not been able to pin down exactly where it starts, and when I've found maps or websites saying where it starts, it seems to have a number of blank zones where it crosses freeways, etc. Not well documented, I would say. Nonetheless, it seems to start near a Metro station called Malakoff - Plateau de Vanves, but call also be started at Chatillon - Montrouge, the latter avoiding some annoying traffic and construction issues.

Hybrid -- all mushed together

Were I to do another camino, I think I might first (without backpack) walk from the Tour de Saint Jacques, stroll down to the Cathedral and get my passport/credential stamped, then go back to my hotel or wherever my gear is stored, and take the Metro to start on the Coulee Vert to make the first stage more pleasant.   

Too much weight

After about 5 miles, as we hit the town of Montrouge -- which is actually just more of Paris but is across the above mentioned freeway -- we began to hurt. At first it was a gentle hurt, then more intense. Even though our progress had been slow, and we had a way to go still, we stopped and rested for about an hour, and had something to eat from a local kabob house. Side note -- virtually every town in France seems to have a kabob house, probably from the days of French Morocco and Algeria. For whatever reason, we have found them clean, the people friendly, and priced affordable. When every restaurant presents a different challenge in terms of menu, price, or communication, we found our kabob houses to be a savior at times.

No camping here

Our Google map had shown a camp ground in an area called Sceaux, which turned out to be a very nice and very upscale type of Parisian suburb. Rather a bit like Darien, Connecticut is to New York City. Or Beverly Hills to Los Angeles. Very nice place. But no campgrounds.

By the time we got there, we were very tired, our muscles hurt, and it was getting late in the day. A very nice local guy, about our age (mid 50's) saw our confused looks as we gazed at our map, and he asked us what we were looking for. "Le Camping", we said confidently, armed by both our assurance by Rick Steves that "every town has a campground called 'le camping'", and also our Google map which clearly showed a campground.

"There is no camping here. I know, I live here and have lived here a long time, and there is no camping here". "Well, is there a hotel?"

Yes, there was a hotel, and at this stage we were so tired and sore we went right there and booked a room for two nights. This was our first experience with booking hotels in France, and at this stage I'll say that it surprised us that we could just walk in off the street and get a room for two nights. No reservations weeks ahead, and no secret service interrogation about passports, ID, credit cards, etc. He told us how much the room was, we agreed, and he gave us the key. The place was very nice, there was a patisserie and a cafe across the street, and we unburdened our packs, took showers, and took a stroll through town.

Re-evaluating our camping strategy

While munching on a pastry and sipping on a coffee, we talked about our strategy and how we might need to change it. First off, there was no camping here, and so there might not be a camping in other places either. That could make for some very uncomfortable days looking for lodging. Second, it was pretty obvious that the extra weight we were carrying for the tent, sleeping pads, and other camping gear, was going to become the straw that would break our collective backs. We certainly did not have fun walking this first day, and rather than have a feeling that we would get stronger if we continued, we had the decided impression that we would quickly become injured or crippled. Our legs were so wobbly under the strain of these heavy packs, that we feared the slightest undulation in the walkway, if not handled correctly, could throw us to the ground, with attendant broken arms, lets, torn ligaments, and pain. Not a risk we had wanted, planned for, or would be willing to tolerate. That assuming we even COULD continue, which was doubtful.

On the other hand, the hotel was $100 euro and camping was $10 euro on the average, we were told. That was a bit deal. We had tentatively agreed on a budget, and this made our budget estimations seem laughable.

After coffee and pastries, we decided to sleep on it. The next day, we tore into our packs, removing anything that we would not need, were we to stay in hotels every night. Out went the tent, the pads, the extra lights, batteries, bath towels, soap, etc. When we weighed what we had removed, it was very heavy. Remember, we had already tossed a whole lot before we started. Out also went spare clothing, city clothes (we would simply have to wear hiking boots and pilgrim attire into town -- but we knew we couldn't afford hotels AND nice restaurants, so city clothing became less important anyway).

A day of rest and discovery of the Coulee Vert

Sceaux is a totally delightful town. We surveyed the shops and decided where we wanted to eat, what we would buy for the next day, and where we could grab a light dinner and a drink later that day. In what was to become a learning experience we never forgot, after we regrouped and came out for the evening, everything was closed. Shops, bakery, bars, restaurants. All closed, and the streets deserted. We should have eaten, shopped, and drank when we were out earlier, but who knew.

As we walked around town, we also found a greenway that seemed to go all along. It was one big tree-lined pathway, with bike paths and pedestrian paths, so we decided to walk a bit along that and see what we came across. After a short while, we could see that it was marked as part of the Chemin de Saint Jacques, and as we would later find, it started in Paris and went all the way to Massey, very close to our expected next day's stopping point.

We decided to walk on that path the next day, and after looking online a bit, we found that the path was indeed mentioned in the OpenStreetMap online mapping software but not in Google Maps. When we traced the path in OpenStreetMap we could trace it all the way back to Paris, and we could have been walking on a tree-lined path instead of fighting construction detours. Oh well, tomorrow would be better.

Tomorrow, we head south to Palaiseau (or at least we thought so at this point)

Until then,

Buen Camino!

Stage 0: Camping in the Bois de Boulogne of Paris

A Campground in Paris

Rick Steves and "le camping"

Rick Steves, my favorite travel writer, tells of the campgrounds strewn throughout europe, at which many european families spend their holidays. Camping was popular in the states as well, when I was a child, as the GI's returning from the war took their families to the great outdoors, to explore the world, and enjoy the fresh air and travel on a budget.

Rick tells us that almost every town town in Europe has a campground nearby, generally known to the locals by the universal name of the "camping".

On another website, we heard of a campground in the Bois de Bologne, a huge forest-like park near central paris. Like central park in New York, or Golden Gate Park in San Francisco, the Bois de Bologne is miles long, and deep in the interior is a campground. So, we decided to give it a go.

Bus 244 in and shuttle out

Getting there proved something of a challenge. We had read somewhere that there was a shuttle to the campground that left from near to the Port de Maillot metro station, and that the stop was hard to find. "Hard to find" proved to be a euphamism for "unmarked and completely hidden". After asking about 10 locals, consulting a dozen maps, asking local police, and finally the driver of the wrong bus, we "discovered" that the bus to the campground was the bus #244 which stops at an obscure stop marked only by a post saying "244".

Now, all the other buses stop at well marked bus stops, and each has a covered waiting area, a bench, a map, and a big sign saying the route and major destinations. The ol' 244 has no such thing. The stop is on the inside of the traffic circle, not on the outside where you woud expect, and it is not indicated on any maps posted in the area.

There is also a shuttle bus directly to the campground, but we has zero idea of where to find it, so we waited for and got on the 244 bus when it came.

Note that later, when we came back to town on the campground shuttle, it stopped immediately in front of the 244 stop, at an otherwise unmarked taxi stand. They don't tell you that to take the shuttle from the campground, you need a ticket available only in the campground office. We waited for the shuttle almost 20 minutes, and then when it came to pick us up, only then were we told we needed a ticket. Gratefully, the shuttle driver waited for us while we went back to the office to buy two tickets. We never took the shuttle back to the campground from town, because we didn't want to find out we needed to buy tickets in advance, etc. So this is still an unresolved issue, perhaps someone else can comment.

So, in summary, once we figured out the system, we took the 244 to the campground, and took the shuttle from the campground. In both cases, we were dropped off or caught the bus at the Port de Maillot, as shown below.

If you can, save this schematic of the Port de Maillot to your cell phone or iPad, etc. That way, when you get there, you can more likely find the 244 bus stop (marked only by a lone "244" on a single pole stuck in what looks an unlikely place).

Mary is pointing to the place to catch the 244 bus that takes you near the campground.

Once on the 244, ask the driver to let you out at "le Camping". They are pretty good at letting you know, but just in case, keep your eye out on the left side of the bus for the windmill and the adjacent caretaker's cottage. Your stop is the next one.

Follow the way to the campground

There is a trail that you follow to the campground. Every time we got off, there were others getting off also. We just followed them until we got to know which way to go.

Internet, sort of

The campsite information says it has internet access, but that doesn't mean you will have internet access for your laptop, cell phone, or tablet. What they do have is a couple of computers in the campground office that you can use to browse, make reservations, etc. You won't be able to upload pictures, or download anything, but you can browse. I noticed a couple of people who had transferred pictures from their camera onto a keychain flash drive, and did manage to upload pictures to Flickr or similar sites.

When I wanted to use the internet, I wound up waiting behind a bunch of other people, and finally realized that I could come back the next morning early, and spend some time before the late-night party crowd had awakened.

We wound up finding a Starbucks, stalking an electric outlet, and finally settling in to send pictures/blogs home from there.

Electrical connection, sort of

On a similar note, there was no electricity available to recharge phones, but we did find that we could recharge in the office, by leaving our phone or laptop plugged in behind their counter.   

We also found electric outlets in the sink areas of the restrooms, intended for shavers one presumes, that could give a partial recharge quickly when needed.

All the comforts of home… and a few more

We set up our tent, took any valuables with us, and spent three days in Paris, at around $20 a night for the campsite fees. Not bad, as a first step toward becoming frugal pilgrims.

The campground came with a lot of the comforts of home. Private showers, toilets, and sinks in the bathrooms, all kept very clean. Outside each bathroom building was a row of laundry sinks, all clean, and with plenty of hot water. The tent areas had a fence-enclosed clothesline area, perfect for letting your laundry dry while you take the shuttle/bus to the metro station at Port Maillot and into the city for sightseeing.

There was even a small store, where we were able to get champagne, bread, and fruit for lunch, total around $6 euros.

One thing did catch my eye…. the men's restroom had a row of urinals, all "exposed" by a large window onto the grounds. There seemed to always be lots of people socializing outside the restrooms, waiting for a friend, doing laundry, etc. I never saw ANYBODY use these, instead everybody uses the enclosed toilet stalls. Still, I found it amusing.

A cold night in May

On our last night in the Bois de Bologne campground, the temperature got down pretty close to freezing (it was the first week of May and we thought we'd be able to avoid such cold weather). We bundled up in our long underwear, all our shirts and pants, all our jackets and coats, and tucked into our sleeping bags.

We practically froze. It was cold, our feet were numb, our hands like icicles. But we made it though the night, and as this was our last night, we figured it was a good experience.

Soaking wet

When we woke up and started to pack up our things, we had a pool of cold water almost an inch deep in our tent. We had spread down a plastic tarp and set the tent up over it, but none of that helped stem the river of water that flowed all around us. Not being experienced campers, we weren't ready, I suppose, and perhaps this could have been avoided. But the take-home message was that nothing prevented flowing water and heavy rain from soaking our tent and all our gear.

Tomorrow, we are off to Sceaux, a few miles south of Paris.

Until then,

Buen Camino