City Escape Collection

After a peaceful night under canvas near the river, I woke up to a cool morning breeze. It was still light out at 9:14pm the night before when I curled up in my tent with a book, lantern hanging above me, and the sound of distant conversations from a neighbouring group of teenagers. I had dinner at the campground’s snack bar — a plate of Andouille de Jargeau, a local specialty, which felt like the perfect introduction to this stretch of the Loire.

Morning stillness, book hunting and a slow start

This morning, I let time stretch. My hotel in Germigny-des-Prés wouldn’t open until after 5pm, so I lingered in Jargeau, strolled through its streets, and spotted a boîte à livres — one of those wonderful free public book exchanges found all over France. I picked up two books: one, a collection of philosophical tales by Voltaire and Diderot; the other, a novel by Melissa Costa, an author I’ve read before and enjoy. I already had a book on my Kindle, but I love the idea of carrying physical books while walking — they add a bit of weight, but also a sense of luxury.

Around 2:10pm, I finally started walking. The route followed the Loire towards Châteauneuf-sur-Loire, and from there, towards Germigny-des-Prés. It was a three-hour stretch without any real break — just one brief pause — but I didn’t mind. I listened to a podcast as I walked across fields and less-defined trails, letting my thoughts drift.

Thinking on the move

One thing that came to mind was how important meals are in my day. They’re not just about hunger — they give rhythm to this kind of travel. It reminded me of a time I fasted completely for a day. The hardest part wasn’t the lack of food, it was missing the structure of meal times. Out here, meals anchor my days. I walk for a few hours, I think of a snack, then dinner becomes the highlight of the evening. I’m realising that walking without those moments might feel… well, too empty.

A warm welcome at the guesthouse

I arrived in Germigny-des-Prés around 5:10pm. My guesthouse offered a table d’hôtes — a home-cooked meal shared with the hosts. It wasn’t a restaurant. It felt more like dining with old friends. Along with the owners, there was a guest staying for work who had known them for years. We had long, meandering conversations. I loved that.

Route change and reflections

After dinner, I reviewed my route and made a small change. I had originally planned to walk 25km on the last day, from Dampierre to Gien, but the forecast predicted rain and I honestly couldn’t see myself walking that far, tired and soaked, with my heavy pack. Instead, I’ll take a bus from Dampierre to Gien and spend the last night at the Gien campsite. That means three nights under the stars instead of two — which suits me just fine.

I’m slowly figuring out what kind of travel works for me. I enjoy the walking, but maybe not for endless hours. I like reaching a new place, setting up camp, and having that quiet space at the end of the day. I like mixing tents and gîtes. Maybe I’m not a full-time nomad — but I love tasting it now and then.