Paris: République, 11e arrondissement

Up at eight to get in the shower. It’s nine o’clock now and I’m just finishing a breakfast of a couple of bread rolls, butter, honey and cheese. The last three all came out of my backpack!

I reckon my constrained walk in a psychogeograpy style ought to work like this… Hm, I was about to draw a sketch and realised my rule was entirely deterministic. I was thinking of picking a direction based on the position of the letters of Guy Debord’s name around a compass rose:

Compass rose with Guy Debord’s name around it

…but I’ll have to put in some factor from the environment to make that more random. Perhaps allow the name or type of the street to inform the distance to walk. Anyway, to the map shop first and perhaps a quick visit to a laverie automatique to wash my top and jocks. It’s nice that I’ve ended up being a lot cleaner and less smelly on this trip than I anticipated.

09:35: On the street on the way to the map shop.

10:13: Lovely walk across town using my GPS to do crow-flies navigation. Le Monde des Cartes only opens between 14:00 and 17:00 Lundi to Vendredi so I’ll be back then. In the meantime I might park myself in a café and read for a bit. Or roam and take snaps. Right now I feel like resting my legs!

11:05: Stopped in a bar/bistrot for hot chocolate and cake. I’ve been desultorily walking along the Seine towards Quay Branly¹. It’s still 3.5km away as the crow flies. I might have arrived there already like that rather than following the bend in the river. Either way, it’s such a treat to be in a capital city for the first time in a month. The weather is mild and overcast but bright.

Geoff Nicholson again, in “The Lost Art of Walking”:

“The pace of words is the pace of walking, and the pace of walking is also the pace of thought.

Both walking and writing are simple common activities. You put one foot in front of another; you put one word in front of another. What could be more basic than a single step, more basic than a single word? Yet if you connect enough of these basic building blocks, enough steps, enough words, you may find that you’ve done something special. The thousand-mile journey starts with the single step; the million-word manuscript starts with a single syllable.”

Books:

The Vintage Book of Walking (Vintage, 2000)

Iain Sinclair: London Orbital: A Walk Around the M25

12:15: Getting ready to move on. Finished “The Lost Art of Walking” and started Guy Debord’s “The Society of the Spectacle”. He seems to be pretty bang-on about modern consumer culture. It’s not a walking book though.

As I look outside, I see the cloud cover breaking up. Sunny spells.

I think I’ll move a few streets back from the river and find somewhere to have lunch. I’m enjoying the business of sitting around in cafés. That’s exactly what this walking trip was to involve, but there have been precious few pleasant cafés in the tiny towns and villages I’ve visited. Not having a bed for the night is not conducive to lingering over a frippery. €13.30 for a hot chocolate and a tarte au cirtron.

12:30: I’ve decided to loop back towards the map shop and find an ATM and lunch on the way.

14:13: €16.85 for lunch of a thali and masala chai.

15:19: €34.40 on four maps to get me to the German border — plus one 1:1,500,000 France overview map.

16:14: Finally found the station, line and ticket purchase point for quai Branly. I need to get off at Pont d’Alma. €1.90 for a full-fare ticket. Choosing the maps and eyeballing possible future terrain was somewhat terrifying. Vast expanses of farmland, labyrinthine roads over mountains, vast rivers. One. Step. At. A. Time. With just enough forward planning.

17:16: I’ve realised I don’t want to be cooped up in a museum — I want to be in the city. Walkikng back to Gare du Nord for another Indian feed. Tomorrow I get back on the train to Méru. I remembered that I’d left some of my electonic stuff on my bed in the hostel. I hope it’s all still there. The parts I care most about are the charger and the power bank battery. I have phone and camera. No point getting anxious.

17:57: Feeling a bit lonely and actually looking forward to heading back to Méru tomorrow to continue my journey. Paris is best with friends.

19:44: Stopped for a while in a café for an expensive and weak cup of tea (€5.60). Now I’m sitting in an Indian restaurant and I’m about to order dhal and rice. I’ve switched from Guy Debord (too depressing) to Peter Mair’s “Ruling the Void: The Hollowing-out of Western Democracy”. It’s crystal clear in its analysis of the rise of populism.

20:51: €12:40 for dhal, rice and a stale roti. Heading back to the hostel now as dusk falls.

21:18: Back in the hostel. No-one had touched the stuff that I’d left in the room.

23:23: Spent most of the last two hours highlighting where the new maps overlap, and outlining them on the 1:1,500,000 scale map of France. I’ve also mapped out another couple of day’s worth of walking east. It’s amazing how much effort and time all of this requires — lots of tabletop space needed, involving loud crinkling and folding maps. I’ve got all the maps I need now to get me to the German border. All I have to do is walk, find shelter and keep myself fed, watered and sane. I’d like to get to the German border before my birthday²

Right. Tomorrow morning I’ll take the train back to Méru and carry on. I’ve got to get back in the habit of sleeping wild too, or else the funds will never last to Turkey.

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