Pilgrim's Progress – Long Distance Walks in Europe and the UK

Many a good newspaper story has been ruined by over verification

James Gordon Bennett

The day did not get off to the best of starts. As I laid out my kit on the bed in my room in the religious retreat I was staying in at Menton I tried to extend my two Leki poles for the day ahead. One worked fine, the other stubbornly refused to lock into position. Stored over winter in our pigeonnier in South West France, the hiking pole appeared to have undergone some of weird chemical reaction which had led to the coating of one of the metal poles being destroyed.

Unless I could buy some replacement poles somewhere, I was faced with the daunting prospect of ascending some of the highest summits of the Massifs Central hobbled with a single Leki pole! As if that wasn’t bad enough, I also noticed that despite only having done 500km, my Meindl walking boots already seemed to be coming apart at the seams!

My base in Menton had been Le Home a religious reception refuge affiliated to the Missionary Workers of the Immaculate, part of the Carmelite Order. It provided short breaks for the elderly and infirm as well as accommodating pilgrims on the Menton to Arles pilgrim route (GR653A)

The accommodation was pretty simple and some of the fixtures and fittings had seen better days – the metal shutters in my room didn’t open which left one with the feeling of being incarcerated in a small cell! Sunday breakfast was an interesting affair. Although each table hsd been provided with a small lump of butter and a pot of jam, there was no sign of any bread! I noticed other elderly guests disctetely taking out pieces of bread from small plastic bags which they had brought down to breakfast with them. I downed my coffee and headed out in search of a croissant!

Menton was overcast as I headed out on my way to Aspremont after breakfast early on Monday morning. If truth be known, I was quite apprehensive of the day ahead. Would I be up to walking 40+ km in a day after 6 months of gentle gardening and daily dog walks? The sttetch of the GR653 and the start of the GR4 at Grasse wasn’t covered by any guidebooks. I would be entirely reliant on some basic route maps I had downloaded from the internet and the Alltrails app. Without a trusty topoguide ( replete with detailed maps and descriptions of each day’s route) it felt a bit like flying blind!

The first hour or so was spent navigating my way through the suburbs of Menton and ascending the rocky granite escarpments behind the seaside resort. Before long I could make out the marina and office blocks of Monte Carlo. I could almost smell the money wafting out of the Principality in the shape of the impressive superyachts anchored in the marina.

Mid morning I passed a lissome lycra clad lass walking a pack of 8 or so dogs of all shapes and sizes. That’s pretty ambitious I thought – they must cost a bomb in food and vet’s fees! It turns out that the pack of hounds were being walked by a lady who ran a company called ‘Doggy Adventures’. I came across several other large vans advertising dog walking activities during the day. I guess the owners were either too elderly or had better things to do with their time than walk their pooches. Such is life on the Cote d’Azur.

Despite having enjoyed watching Terry Tomas and Dudley Moore’s epic perfomancr in Monte Carlo or Bust I’ve only ever wanted to go to Monte Carlo for one reason – to learn more about the legendary Gordon Bennett.

When I was growing up Gordon Bennett had morphed into a mild expletive, which I still use regularly to this day. But who was he and why was a quai named after him in Menton?

James Gordon Bennett (1841–1918) was an American newspaper proprietor who was so wealthy and enjoyed such a lavish lifestyle that his name became an exclamation. That is the nub of the answer, although it doesn’t explain why his name has become a mild expletive.

In his lifetime, Gordon Bennett spent a total of $40 million. (a phenomenal amount over a century ago). His after-tax annual income exceeded a million dollars.

He once tipped a train porter $14,000.In 1877, he got drunk at a party at his fiancée’s house and mistook the fireplace for a toilet (like you do).His fiancée’s brother challenged him to a duel (neither man was hurt), but he fled to Paris.In Paris, his favorite hobby was smashing up restaurants (and he wasn’t even a rock star)—although he always paid for the damage.

He once burned a wad of thousands of francs because all the notes in his pocket were causing him discomfort.

He built a yacht—the Lysistrata—which boasted, among other conveniences, a padded room for holding an Alderney cow to provide fresh milk.He once went to a restaurant in Monte Carlo and found that it was full. So he bought the restaurant and instructed the head- waiter that he was always to reserve a table for him.He was the man who sent H. M. Stanley to find Dr. Livingstone (as in “Dr. Livingstone, I presume”) in Africa. So there you have it – Gordon Bennett was very much larger than life!

It’s not often that I encounter golf courses on my walks in France. But then it’s not often that I’m walking through the Cote d’Azur. Late morning I crossed the hallowed fairways of Monte Carlo golf course. Needless to say, everything looked immaculate. The only thing missing? Any sign of anybody actually playing golf!

I made an unanticipated lunchtime diversion to the charming town of La Turbie. I basically took a wrong turning anf foolishly assumed that by following the red and white signs that I was on the right track. Well I wasn’t – i’d unwittingly deviated onto another GR (51). La Turbie waa worth the diversion not only for the chance of a beer and salmon sandwich but the opportunity to see the magificent triumphal trophy of the Emperor Augustus.

The majestic Trophy of Augustus was the first stage of Julius Augustus’ incredible road, the Via Julia Augusta. Erected around the year 6 B.C. in honour of the Emperor Augustus, it remained intact until the fall of the Roman Empire. Targeted by Barbarian invaders, it suffered several setbacks and was partially destroyed. However, its aura has never wavered and is still as impressive as ever. In 1865, it was listed as a ‘Monument Historique’, and subsequently semi-restored. Simply breathtaking!

Having made my way back onto the GR653, most of the afternoon was spent walking on narrow mountain paths through pine cladx hillsides. Mid afternoon I encountered a couple of nuns out for a stroll, a sute sigh that I was approaching the religious sanctuary of Laghet. I popped in to admire the Baroque chapel.

Shortly before 4pm ai reached the small town of Drap. A sign post indicated it was 2 hours 30 minutes on the path to Tourette-Levens. I was beginning to feel ever so  slightly knackered and fervently prayed that there were no steep climbs and descents ahead. During the next three hours I was to be sorely disappointed.

I did eventually make it to Tourette-Levens in a little under two hours but it was a hard slog. The ascent was unremitting and continued on switch back paths for the best part of an hour. I had to take a few breaks as I struggled to put one foot in front of the  other!

My accommodation for the night was the Cistercian Notre Dame Abbey of Peace just outside Aspremont. It wasn’t clearly indicated on the map but I’d got the impression that it was located between Tourette-Levens and Aspremont. This proved a false hope – it was another  4km further on. I’d booked supper at the Abbey at 7pm. I checked my watch – it had just turned 7pm and it was another 30 minutes to the Abbey!

30 minutes later I rang the doorbell to the Abbey which was answered by a dimunitive angelic nun. Without demur for my late arrival, she showed me to my room and told me that supper wss on the table waiting for me. Ok the three pieces of pizza were cold and had the consistency of leather shoe soles, but after nearly 12 hours of walking I wasn’t in the mood to argue. I wolfed them down, made my way back to my room and hit the dack. I was too tired to even take a shower and as for my blog – well that could wait to later!