Le chemin de Modestine

I went on a hiking vacation with my boyfriend. I deliberately chose to spend most of my waking hours walking under the burning sun, endlessly climbing and descending slopes, feeling thirsty, hungry, and in physical pain – only to sleep in a dirty campsite on an uncomfortable inflatable mattress every night. I promise I had very good reasons to experience all this inconvenience – and I hope I’ll convince you of how wonderful hiking is in this blog post.

Introduction - Choosing the route and preparing for the hike

This was my second hike ever. I wanted to be ambitious while taking into consideration the pain that I felt during the beginner-level hike I went on two years ago. I couldn’t handle the slightest uphill slope, and I haven’t worked on my stamina ever since. Also, I have been on the verge of anemia since I was eight years old. I still think of myself as an aspiring ascetic and can therefore deal with temporary pain and suffering as long as it won’t get me injured. Therefore, with the full weight of my weak-ass body, I decided to undertake an intermediate-level hike in medium-altitude mountains. 500 to 800 meters of elevation per day, up to 30 kilometers per day, a mostly dry climate, at least one campsite at each of my stops, and a decent landscape.

A quite popular hike fitted my criteria: “Le chemin de Stevenson” – with reference to the route that R. L. Stevenson followed in 1878 and wrote about in a book. I will nevertheless call it “Le chemin de Modestine”, the donkey that he brought with him. Bro exploited, mistreated, and admitted to hating her, while she carried all of his heavy stuff. Every hiker knows that the hardest part of hiking is having a huge backpack slowing you down. Modestine should get all the credit for that.

The preparations were quite simple. I’m a frugal queen and my boyfriend hates shopping, so we bought as little gear as possible: the cheapest Decathlon 50L hiking backpack (I didn’t have a real one for my first hike), an anti-UV, fast-drying top, and some bags to compartmentalize our backpacks. I used my old 20€ Decathlon hiking shoes. I was very glad to finally have an excuse to get rid of them after ripping them while hiking. My boyfriend didn’t want to buy new shoes either, so he hiked with his 20€ tennis shoes. Yes, I tried to convince him that it was a terrible idea. No, it didn’t work because he once hiked in the Pyrenees with a pair of sneakers, and it was fine. I admit that I felt a burning urge to buy aesthetic Pinterest hiking outfits, but part of the hike entailed purifying my brain, so I renounced looking approachable. Also, I knew it would be super cringe if I wore expensive clothing only to be mogged by a random local wearing sandals.

Day 0 - A long train ride

We woke up at 7 a.m. in pure chaos. Our apartment was a complete mess, and my boyfriend and I had a stupid argument the day before – so we had to speedrun conciliation because we both needed this hike. We hopped on the train at 9 a.m. My boyfriend slept, and I listened to music while leafing through our hiking guide. The landscapes weren't particularly appealing to me, but I couldn't afford anything better given my physical form. We arrived at Langogne at 4 p.m. The air already felt cleaner than in Paris (the bar is low). We waited at the bus stop for an hour and took an empty bus to La Bastide-Puylaurent – the starting point of our hike.

We stayed at the local campsite after a thirty-minute walk with our heavy backpacks. We weren't used to carrying that much weight, so much so that we arrived at the campsite feeling exhausted… The campsite was absolutely disgusting. There were dead insects in every toilet and shower. I got harassed by flies, and one of them got stuck in my hair? It felt invigorating to be stripped of our comfort from the very beginning. We ate canned beans with tomato sauce and went to sleep, wishing for the night to pass as fast as possible.

Note: I've come to realize that describing every single day in detail would take me hours, so I've decided to let my photographs speak for themselves and occasionally add succinct anecdotes here and there, in a somewhat informal fashion. Also, the hike took place between June 20 (the day we took the train) and June 27.

Day 1 - Windmills in the forest

There were so many butterflies everywhere. I thought they were common in the area, so I thought I'd wait until I had a better view to take a picture. Turns out we never saw them again...

It was our first time seeing windmills that close. I felt weak and tiny next to them. I spent minutes still in front of the one I photographed, mesmerized by the movement of its helices.

We ate canned tajine vegetables, energy bars, and drank what felt like six liters of water. There were so many flies around us while we ate - it was hellish. We walked for a few hours until we reached the campsite of Chasseradès. We arrived quite early, so we killed time by reading a book on metaethics. We had a blast making fun of expressivism.

Day 2 - Getting lost in the forest

We woke up at 6 a.m. and were greeted by a beautiful sunrise. We didn't sleep well because it turned out that, despite the ongoing heat wave that affected the entire country (temperatures reached 42°C in Paris, it's ridiculous), nights were significantly cold in the mountains, and we didn't prepare for that... I also spent the first hours of the night shitting my pants because there was a thunderstorm. I usually wouldn't care, but we put our tent under a tree, and I couldn't help being a little paranoid about it.

The hike started with a horrible uphill slope, by far the worst one I've ever climbed. The pain crawled all the way from my toes up to my fucking asshole – it was horrible. I felt like the Witch of the Waste when she's struggling to climb the stairs in Howl's Moving Castle. The path became significantly easier after a while. Thirty minutes into the easy path, we ran into four hikers nervously looking at their maps. Yes, we all got lost. We had to find our way again, which took us about thirty more minutes, and to our greatest disappointment, we had to climb yet another horrible slope.

We ate under a tree. First meal was plant-based chili con carne we bought at our campsite. Second meal was "tomato rice". Boyfriend almost threw up because of it. It was objectively disgusting, and still I managed to eat almost all of it. Here's my technique for eating disgusting food when you want to avoid food waste: you imagine that you're in the midst of a famine, it's the only food available, and you either eat it or die a very pathetic death.

Day 3 - Reaching the Sommet de Finiels and swimming

We woke up at 5:15 a.m. and left the campsite as fast as we could, at around 6:30 a.m.

The Sommet de Finniels (1699m) is the highest point of the hike. We climbed about 700 meters to get there. People were impressed by the fact that we didn't use hiking poles. It may have slowed us down, but at least I knew it would make my legs look divine from all the effort.

The view up there was magnificent: the gently curving hillside – with its wonderfully soothing shade of green –, the perfectly clear sky, and the few pale grey rocks, scattered here and there, that gave the mountain a distinct sense of character... I don't think my photographs managed to capture how it felt. I wanted to get rid of my backpack, take my shoes off, and frolic until exhaustion. It was definitely one of the most beautiful landscapes I've seen.

First picture was taken at the top of the Sommet de Finniels. Look at how clear the horizon was... Stunning. It was extremely windy up there, so much so that I had to wear my jacket. I looked up the temperature and found out it was 21°C, literally half the temperature in Paris at that very same moment. Second picture was taken a few kilometers later.

We had a very steep descent to the village through a narrow path, full of slippery rocks and thorn bushes. Remember that my boyfriend was hiking with his 20€ tennis shoes, but I was the one stumbling every 50 meters lol.

Once we arrived at the campsite, we set up our tent and considered taking a loooong nap to recover from this very challenging day. After taking a shower, we met one of the lost hikers from the day before coming the other way. He had a towel around his neck and told us that there was a nice stream hidden behind the bushes, and that we had to check it out. We went there and found an idyllic swimming spot, with huge rocks, turquoise water and a waterfall. We changed into our swimming clothes and dived straight into the fresh water. It was so clear I could see little fish tingling my feet. I had so much fun that I forgot I'm lowkey scared of drowning (I don't know how to swim). What a memorable day. I couldn't take pictures because of exhaustion and desire to live in the present, but here's the most accurate photograph I found online of our swimming spot.

Day 4 - Dying under the heat (39°C)

The day started with a short ascent. In case it wasn't clear yet, I'm extremely bad at climbing slopes, so these photographs were taken by my boyfriend, who got to enjoy the landscape while I fought for my life.

This was the most challenging part of the hike. The main obstacles were the heat and the lack of water sources. We had to walk almost 30km with only 3,9 liters of water for two, while being exposed to the sun for most of the hike. The path that lead to Florac was similar to the one we had followed the day before: narrow, slippery, with threatening plants. I did fall (on my back) that day, but my backpack provided enough cushion to protect me from getting injured lol.

We realized just how hot it was when we entered the village and saw a pharmacy sign displaying 39°C. Thankfully, we had direct access to a water stream in the campsite. I didn't get any pictures because I was too busy life-enjoying.

Day 5 - Ascending in the mist and staying at a charming village

We got to hike in a misty forest. We were so grateful and lucky to experience this. We saw spider webs covered in dew and a small hamlet with houses made of stone. We talked to one of the residents, who told us that his friend bought half of the hamlet and restored every house. Some people are simply that rich.

We stopped every few meters to appreciate the landscape. Once we got out of the mist, we stumbled across a flock of splendid goats. Suddenly, a hostile-looking dog appeared from behind a bush and started following us. I ran away out of pure survival instinct, which obviously made things worse. My boyfriend told me to chill out, which was very ironic given that earlier that day, I was the one lecturing him on how to behave if we saw a dog protecting a herd. Anyway. We somehow managed to get out of there, physically (but not psychologically) unharmed. I respect animals, but I don't want them anywhere close to me (except for cows, God bless cows).

Our feet were wet from all the mist. We took our shoes and socks off, lay down on the grass and rested while I hummed beautiful melodies. It took us some time to get up.

We stayed at a charming village high in the mountains and visited a protestant church. I loved how stripped down it looked. It contrasted with a catholic church I visited in Lyon a few days prior to the hike, that was so richly ornamented it felt almost obscene.

We stopped at a bar and drank delicious homemade soda. There was another person there: a young woman, solo hiking, drinking coffee, wearing fancy sunglasses, and holding a cigarette and a book with the same hand. Bitch was obviously Parisian. She told us that her backpack was so heavy that she asked for some company to transport it for her from village to village. I didn't know such a thing was possible.

Day 6 - Bivouacking and swimming

What an unremarkable hike. It was hot, ugly, and we got lost. Again.

We ate homemade tabbouleh, bread, and dried apricots bought at a local grocery. They clearly supplied from Carrefour. Quite hard to avoid buying from them during our hike despite the ongoing BDS campaign. Still, we were pleasantly surprised to find a Palestinian flag displayed at someone's house. So it's not like the locals couldn't give a single fuck about Palestine.

The only available campsite at our destination was a half-campsite half-farm that exploited donkeys. So we decided to bivouac somewhere in the village. We called the mayor to ask if he knew a place where we could legally set up our tent. He told us to put it behind the city hall, under the trees. They left the city hall open so that we could have access to the toilets! (The bivouac spot ended up being more of a curse than a blessing, since it was infested by tiger mosquitoes and bats...)

There was a stream near our destination, so we asked a local for a nice swimming spot. We followed her directions and ended up in a gorgeous place (see picture above (I took it with my phone, that's why the quality is awful)). We took advantage of the opportunity to rinse our bodies from the sweat. It felt magical, once again.

Day 7 - Speedrunning the hike and going home

Nothing interesting happened during the hike. We arrived at Saint-Jean-du-Gard one hour earlier than expected!

We had a nice walk. I have nothing else to say, sorry.

We took a bus to Alès, where we waited for our first train. Alès was... depressing. Empty, dirty, and lacking green spaces to rest. We went to a café, where I finally got to experience Racism™. I was expecting something to happen during the hike, especially as I was exclusively surrounded by white people. The irony is that the rancid asshole who made the racist comment wasn't even white. It caught me so off guard that I didn't know how to react. I usually confront people when they cross the line, but this was perhaps the first time I saw someone being so unapologetically provocative and self-contradictory. Part of me wanted to create a scandal by throwing my glass at his pathetic face but I chose wisdom and peace. Ya Rabbi rzaqni sbar.

We took the train to Nîmes at around 5 p.m. That's the moment when I started feeling a greatly debilitating pain in my knee. I had to stay in the train station while my boyfriend got to go for a little walk in the city.

Our second train was two hours late. We arrived at Paris at 2 a.m. and were greeted with tiny 33cl water bottles as an apology for the delay. I fell in love with Paris again as soon as we got out of the train station. The night scene in Paris is just that magical. The city lights. The sounds. The mess. People singing, dancing in the streets while being drunk, screaming, brainroting in public, listening to music while chilling on the sidewalk (and most importantly: being something other than white lol) – without the slightest concern for social conventions. Everything is always happening everywhere. Paris, je t'aime !

Conclusion

I loved the smell of the forest. I loved spending time with the person I cherish the most. I loved witnessing my body get stronger and stronger each day. I loved challenging the idea that I'm fundamentally weak and lazy, and that I cannot accomplish demanding efforts. I loved feeling powerful and healthy. I loved filling my lungs with pure air. I loved walking for hours and getting rewarded with breathtaking landscapes. I loved the peace of the "empty" (and yet full of life) fields. I loved the sound of the leaves, the cicadas, the birds that sang as soon as the sun rose. I loved the small talk with the people we meet during the hike. I loved swimming in a river for the first time in my life. I loved not feeling anxious for a week. I loved seeing all of my health problems – headaches, dizziness, stomach aches, digestion problems – magically disappear for a week. And I loved going on vacation without feeding capitalism.

I hope you enjoyed reading about my little adventure. I haven't felt particularly inspired to write, but I needed to post about my hike before I forget all the memories. Better done than perfect. I cannot express how much I loved hiking – despite the never-ending muscle soreness. Each day, I felt a new type of pain, yet my body always managed to adapt. I've read on the Wikipedia page for Homo sapiens that we're remarkably gifted at long-distance running and walking compared to other animals, and ever since, I've felt a compelling desire to be a true homo sapiens, the way God (evolution) intended.