A Tale Of Two Cities... (part 1)

Basilica of Saint Martin, Tours

It was the best of times, it was the… oh wait, wrong story! :)

It is perhaps appropriate to begin this tale by mentioning a third city, from which this tale begins, for the story of Tours and Poitiers would be the poorer for the telling if one did not mention Orleans. So it was then that this tale begins in the escape of Orleans late one evening, bedraggled and slightly sodden from the ever present thundershowers, I walked late one evening towards the outskirts of Orleans, having had a long day travelling through the city where I had stopped at the Cathedral, met some wonderful folks, two German ladies and a helpful assistant on her first day in the shop within the Cathedral, and a rather bizarre and obnoxious fellow who had attempted to procure monies from me for resting on his floor.

So it was that I found myself walking briskly from the city in the late evening and camping in a municipal parking spot for campers in the quaint city of Saint Hilaire, having crossed the Loire to the left bank by the bridge of Saint Nicolas, formally the bridge of Saint Mesmin. This was the former Compostela, having been changed in 1885 by the French government to the other side of the bridge. I was oblivious to this of course and simply following my intuition and inclination at the time, and the way seemed natural to me. I camped the night and in the morning moved on, after coffee and conversation with some of the locals to the church of St Hilaire and St Mesmin on the outskirts of the town, after following a couple of locals who seemed to know where they were going.

Eglise Saint Hilaire and Saint Mesmin, St Hilaire 

On occasion it is good to be lead by ones intuition and recognize the things ones awareness is drawn to, so it was in this instance and down the narrow alleyways and winding outskirts the locals led me to this little gem that would begin a big adventure, firstly along the Loire to Tours, and then onwards along the Vienne towards Poitiers and the Abbey of St Martin in Liguge.

St Hilaire and St Mesmin 

After spending a little while taking in the eglise of St Hilaire and St Mesmin, I noticed that I was almost completely alone, for the Compostela had been moved to the other side of the Loire some hundred years previously, imagine my surprise then when along came the two German ladies who had approached me in the Cathedral in Orleans the previous day. We laughed a little at the coincidence, and swapped email address's. I moved briskly on my way after our meeting, feeling it had served it's purpose. Some short while later I was to meet my travelling companion in a field on the left bank, the ancient route of the Compostela that almost no one travelled anymore. It was as well I arrived when I did for he was suffering a bout of sunstroke, and was without water, so it was we helped one another for no sooner had I supplied the water than he showed me how to connect to the internet with roaming, something I have been eternally grateful for ever since, for until that time I had been hunting wifi from library to library for previous seven weeks.

Andrei and I, Liberty Square,Poitiers 

Saint Hilaire had been made bishop of Poitiers, and it would be he who initiated the tale of which I was about to embark, for on the road St Hilaire had met St Martin, a newly travelled pilgrim who had been released from the roman army in 356AD. Together they were to establish the first western monastery in Liguge in 360AD, but more of that later. First there was a trip down the Loire to navigate, and as per my previous photo essay, it was a trip filled with companionship, sunshine and thunder. It eventuated in our journey to Tours, and we were as yet unsure of our accommodation in that ancient commercial capital, one that the Romans had occupied and Richard the Lion Heart had later assailed. We entered however in slightly more peaceful terms even if we brought a little thunder with us.

Firstly, we had been made aware of a little church in Vouvray, just north of Tours, by a previous visit with a lovely couple, in Onzain, Who had recommended that we visit the church of St Martin and St Vincent, which we duly did, and finding the beautiful restored organ in the church quiet, stopped next door at the presbytery. All the priests were out, save one seminary student, who offered us coffee and sanctuary from the blistering sun. He duly phoned the monastery of St Martin in tours and connected us with the nuns there, and booked us in for the evening. A couple of hours later, after a last walk along the Loire, we were in the ancient city of Tours, which Richard 'le couer de lion', had besieged some years before hand.

St Martin Basilica, Tours 

The nuns received us with grace, and we stayed within the walls of the monastery, off rue de Descartes, in the centre of tours, in the abbey, beside the monastery. Our visit was punctuated with the meeting of a Canadian gentleman who shared the accommodations with us on our first night, and we all dined together later that evening, with the nuns preparing a hearty meal for several guests including some young classics students, studying to become classics teachers and sitting their final exams.

Crypt in Saint Martin Basilica, Tours 

The following morning both my travelling companion and our new friend left on their journeys, and I was left to rest a foot strain I had picked up down the Loire. It can be terribly frustrating having such a small injury, for the east of me ached to push on, but I was wise enough to know such an injury can seriously jeopardize such an endeavour if not rested. So it was I was left alone with the nuns of St Martin's basilica in the Benedictine abbey of st martin in Tours, for the following two days. During this time I learnt much of Saint Martins life, and spent time in the basilica and surrounding old town in particular.

Old Tours 

He was  the patron saint of conscientious objectors for instance, after his own act of contentious objection following his conversion. Quite a stance in the roman army, but one that ultimately won him both prestige, a following, and his freedom from service.

Saint Martin Basilica, Tours 

Having spent an extra day in tours, and rested my strain sufficiently, I awoke the next morning early to catch the light from the abbey and the service in the crypt with the nuns. They sung like angels, and were accompanied by harp, which made for an ethereal experience, especially as I had come to know them briefly during my stay. Truly loving and beautiful souls, their order, although administered by the Benedictines, are found in only two other places on the planet, England, where a small order is centered, and New Zealand.

Saint Martin Basilica, Tours 

My stay at the abbey and with the nuns had a profound effect on me, a reverence. It was with a full heart and spirit I left Tours to travel the 112km to Poitiers...

Jean Piero, Andrei, and I , Tours 

Once again, I urge you to visit the link on the left of this page to Charity water, and check them out, they are an awesome organization, and the link to donate to them is on the top left hand side of the blog... thankyou. More from Poitiers and Liguge in part 2. :)