Day18 FR Chaumont to Langres

Chaumont to Langres: Footsteps, Fortresses, and French Bread

As I set off from Chaumont on another bright and promising morning, I found myself pondering one of life’s more whimsical mysteries: why are the French so utterly obsessed with bread? Truly, it’s something to behold. Every day, without fail, people can be seen strolling purposefully to the local boulangerie to collect their daily pain. It’s not just food here—it’s ritual. In all the countries I’ve visited, I don’t think I’ve seen anything quite like it. And to be fair, the bread really is that good: crisp crusts, warm centers, and that unmistakable scent of fresh baking that drifts down entire streets.

By midday, the weather had shifted from pleasant to punishing. The temperature climbed toward 90°F (around 32°C), making the prospect of walking in the afternoon more challenging than usual. The sun in rural France shows no mercy—shade becomes your closest companion.

The blisters have been brutal over the past week. But today brought an unexpected stroke of luck: I stumbled upon a proper sports store within walking distance—a rare oasis out here. After days of trudging through towns with little more than family-run shoe shops, finding a place that actually stocked quality footwear felt like a miracle. I spent some time trying on shoes and testing insoles, hunting for the right combination to keep my feet from turning into something unprintable. I did find a pair—not the best color, but I’m well past caring. Comfort over fashion!

If I can get the foot situation sorted, it could really shift the pace of my journey through France and eventually into Switzerland.

By late afternoon, I made it into Langres, perched high on a limestone ridge. The town is a marvel—both visually and historically. With roots stretching back to Roman times, Langres has long held strategic and military significance. Its massive defensive walls, remarkably well-preserved, wrap around the old town in a 3.5-kilometer circuit, offering sweeping views of the surrounding countryside. Julius Caesar himself mentioned the region in his Commentarii de Bello Gallico.

Langres is also known as the birthplace of philosopher and Enlightenment thinker Denis Diderot, chief editor of the famed Encyclopédie, which helped shape modern European thought.

You can feel the layers of history here—in the stones, in the narrow streets, in the grand architecture that seems almost too imposing for such a quiet place.

I spent the late afternoon walking the fortress perimeter, admiring the towers and bastions, and chatting with a few local artists displaying their work nearby. We ended up talking about materials and technique—there’s always a shared language in creative pursuits, even when the words are different.

The evening ended as most do lately: with a strong French beer (or two), some scribbled plans for the next three days, and the understanding that the journey ahead may become a bit less glamorous as I move toward Besançon. Still, it’s all part of the road.

Next up: more rural paths, less beer (in theory), and hopefully, much happier feet. Spirits are on the rise!!!