“If I get out of it, I’ll cross France on foot.” This is the promise that writer-traveler Sylvain Tesson made to himself on his hospital bed after an eight-meter fall that caused him to “fall on a pile of bones”. Almost recovered, he will trace his route on foot on the “diagonal of the void”, this France of hyper-rurality that technocrats designate as a land of conquest for public transport, residential areas and 5G.
“Do the people of Lausanne know that it is possible for them to go from Moudon to the cantonal castle without leaving the cover of the trees?”
His journey in this forgotten France will take him from Nice to the Cotentin. In 2016 he will publish the story under the title “Les chemins noirs”. If only one sentence had to be retained: “Some men hoped to go down in history. Some of us preferred to disappear into geography.” “Les chemins noirs” is the story of a flight that ends in a reunion. The flight from modernity, from its technological and rational chains, to find this old country that is France, behind the steeples of its abbeys, the low walls of its pastures and the banks of its roaches.
A film adaptation of this short and luminous text is currently on Vaud screens. Jean Dujardin portrays the walker, as lonely on the screen as on the trails. Hypnotized, we rediscover how beautiful France is.
This film is not just about a hike. Every long journey on foot, pilgrims will tell you, is first and foremost an inner journey. The rhythm of walking harmonizes with that of breathing. The thought wanders bouncing off the landscape or the words of a companion. The walk provides a framework conducive to discussion and therefore to reflection.
A living pulse
Coming out of the cinema on Friday evening, we wondered with a friend what dark paths the Pays de Vaud would offer us in turn. Imitating Tesson, all you have to do is spread out a map of the canton in front of you to discover some. Do the inhabitants of Lausanne know that it is possible for them to go from Moudon to the cantonal castle without leaving the cover of the trees? In Les Diablerets, in the shadow of the Culan, nestles the Orgevaux valley. Whoever crosses it on a summer morning will believe they are treading on an unknown land, a secret valley sheltering survivors of prehistoric ages. In the Jura, between the Suchet and the Aiguilles-de-Baulmes, stretches a vast valley dotted with forts and stables. We will extend it along the border. Covered with moss, some of its terminals are still flanked by the Bear of Bern and the Lys of the kings of France. We are far from the infographics of the cantonal master plan.
Taking these paths allows you to approach the country at a different pace than that of the motorways and all the “Vaudois RERs”. Through our tired soles, we sense a different pulse from the township than that emanating from social media and social frenzies. A slower and less strong pulse, but more durable and truly alive.
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– Let’s find our own “Dark Paths”
The invitation to travel on the paths of Vaud by Félicien Monnier.
Felicien Monnier