Through the endless fields of Beauce

The first weeks of the trip were spent on the plains of Beauce, region in the South of Paris and famous for its countless fields. Often despised by walkers, it would have to offer only boredom, heat and trucks. If it's true the Sun is relentless and the trucks everywhere near the roads, I keep a very vivid memory.
Each day did not go without its challenges. Not enough trained, I went to sleep exhausted, the mares grazing quietly beside the tent. The walk distances were, however, short, fifteen kilometers. But, then, each one learning her trade, kilometers came expensive.
I found myself walking in the middle of vast fields, alone with the mares. A beautiful but hard loneliness. The villages were like islands where, every night, I made thousand of encounters and enjoyed a warm welcome.

These encounters were all the more valuable than I was inhabited by the fear of failure and than the least breakage, anger of the mare or effrontery of the mule gnawed away bit by bit my determination. Therefore, I want to thank from the bottom of my heart the people who opened me their doors for a night or an hour.