Via Francigena: part three/troisième partie
It's been a minute, but the grand European walking adventure continues in 2026! Following our 2025 efforts in Champagne country, we had our sights set further south on the trail, in tantalising view of the Alps, and sallied forth to walk from Besançon in south east France to Lausanne on the shores of Lake Geneva in Switzerland. Our usual 2-3 days walking sesh was replaced with a more (ahem) ambitious itinerary which moved us through two AirBnB apartments and a Swiss hotel over a grand total of ten days. Positively a whole holiday!
We kicked off with the now traditional loading of the latter day donkey (different breed this time!) and the long drive through south east England, the Channel Tunnel, and down as far as Langres where we had an overnight pitstop. The following morning we had a little wander round this lovely little medieval town (with obligatory cathedral and pilgrim stamp). Taking advantage of relative closeness, we swung by my uncle's gaff in that famous bit of France known amongst the family as 'middle of f-ing nowhere' before taking the final hour drive towards Besançon. We stopped a little outside, changed our shoes and got back on the trail.
Almost immediately we had an indication of what was in store for us, because Besançon is the gateway to the Jura massif a mountain range stretching 360km along the French/Swiss border. The name means 'forest' and even on our 10km yomp through the woods and then following the rover Doubs into Besançon we could see the lower hills of the mountains, thickly forested, with dramatic rock outcrops and tantalising trails.
Besançon itself did not disappoint; the town nestles in a bend in the Doubs and, as an historically important trade and military site (Julius Ceasar was responsible for its early fortifications, and there are still plenty of Roman remains to be seen in the town) was crowned by the most remarkable Citadel, perched on a promontary 118 metres above the river. We had a spectacular view of it from our apartment!
We had a little wander, had a little drinkie of the local Jura crémant and retired, ready for our first full day.
Besançon to Foucherans (c.25km)
After the briefest pit stop for lunch supplies, we headed through town along the river and then up, up and more up along woodland tracks and occasional rocky path, tackling the first foothills of the Jura. We climbed pretty sharply up to the Chapelle des Buis, a welcome cool rest because the temperature was climbing quickly. We were rewarded with some spectacular views over this hugely varied and often dramatic terrain; wooded mountains, pasture, small villages and limestone ridges. There is the hint of the Alpine in the air, in the plant life, and in the seemingly permanent background clunk and clang of the bells hung around the necks of local cattle. At least we always knew where they were!
After that initial climb the terrain opened up into more upland pasture and arable fields, apparently characteristic of the outer Jura range. We felt as if we were traversing a plain, but in reality it was a plateau characterised by quiet pastoral scenes. We lunched around Saône, perched on the side of the road, before continuing through farmland to Mamirolle and a final push through woodland redolent with the scent of impending summer to the tiny Chapelle Saint-Maximin; a secluded forest chapel near an ancient monumental oak tree. It marks the legendary retreat of Saint Maximin, a 3rd-century Bishop of Besançon who sought solitude in the woods. Seated on a bench outside the chapel (which was sadly closed) we found the two ne'er-do-well keepers of the latter day donkey, who sped us back to the Besançon apartment.
Mouthier-Haute-Pierre to Pontarlier (c.24km-but not 100% on that; I paused my watch and forgot to switch it back on!)
Our first full day had been beautiful, but day 2 was.... well, it was something else! The good-gentlemen-them-indoors transported us down to our starting point for the day and we all collectively stopped at a breathtaking viewpoint (also a momument to Our Lady) to take in just a hint of the gorge that we would spend some of the day following.
Fully loaded with our body weight in water to counteract the rising temperature, we sallied down into the village only to find that there was a diversion on the Via Francigena route. We started to follow said diversion but it felt like it was all road walking (boooooring); we fell into conversation with a local dog walker who essentially said 'mai non' to the mapped diversion and thus we decided to map our own route. A shout out at this point to the Hikerr app which was our ever-so-useful guide to the paths of the region, and almost infallible!
Turning back on ourselves we instead headed along the footpaths into the forest lining the gorge. And by god we were glad we did. The path was at points steep, but very manageable, with spectaular views down into the gorge. Almost preternaturally quiet, the rustle of trees and wildlife and sussuration of the invisible water rushing below us, gave us a real sense of place. A place we were just passing through, but had seriously ancient roots. It might sound hokey, but it's as if the place was speaking aloud; we were too small and insignificant for it to notice, but we were privileged to be hearing it. This was reinforced somehow by our stumbling across a 'grotto', a large cave carved into the limestone, halfway down a precipitous drop to the gorge floor. We picked our way gingerly down for a peek. It was splendind and eerie and definitely otherworldly.
Leaving that weird place behind we climbed back up the gorge to meet the road for around 2km of road walking before getting to a path we could descend again. This was a scary road! Fast traffic, sheer cliff on one side, drop to inevitable doom on the other... Just as we were wondering if our big girl pants were actually quite big enough for this, we heard the hum of an electric vehicle pulling up behind us and, what d'ya know, saving-angels-them-indoors had chanced to be passing. They drove us the next 2km. Thank god.
Relieved to be back on an actual path (as opposed to the road of death) we descended back down into the gorge to reach the Source of the Loue (google Source of the Loue and you'll mostly find information about a series of paintings by Gustav Coubert, a local to these parts). This is where the river bursts from a gaping stone mouth under a huge cliff. It's a powerful atmosphere, framed by high wooded cliffs on all sides, the water roaring out of the mountain forming torrid rapids. A remarkable place. We paused for lunch here before walking up towards the visitor centre. Who should we spot having salads at the café? Our saving-angels-them-indoors. We really must stop meeting like this.
From here the path turns sharply upward, a pretty tough climb up through woodland on chalky paths rewarded by breathtaking views over the gorge. Similar to our first day, from here the landscape softens into the rolling plateau of the Haut-Doubs. Peaceful green pastures with traditional wooden farmhouses and the ever present chime of cowbells had replaced the roar of the river. It was getting very hot and at this stage and there was very little cover up on the plateau so we called it quits before we descended to Pontarlier and picked up the latter day donkey to get back to our final night in Besançon.
Pontarlier to Malbuisson (c.22km)
As we were leaving the Besançon apartment we all headed to Pontarlier, a starting point for us and for the good-victuallers-them-indoors to stock up on grub and crémant. We didn't really linger in Pontarlier itself but we were struck by the sheer number of large supermarkets in what was not really a particuarly big town.
This stretch of the path (which essentially follows the GR145) between Pontarlier and Malbuisson was proably most memorable for its rugged geology and sharp climbs and the stark reminders of a military history that took absolute advantage of natural choke points and fearsome geological features. We left Pontarlier, climbing rapidly to enter the Cluse de Pontarlier, a dramatic, narrow limestone gorge carved out by the upper Doubs River. We headed up through dense pine forests and past vertical rock faces arriving eventually at the Fort du Larmont Inférieur (also known as Fort Malher). Directly across the canyon from this 19th century monolith sits the spectacular Château de Joux, perched on a jagged promontory. Originally built around the year 1000 to collect tolls from passing merchants, this massive stone complex evolved over centuries into an impregnable fortress, and latterly a prison.
We picked our way down the Fort Malher side and then back up the Château de Joux side of the canyon, taking a short detour to peek inside the outer gates. Striking out away from the fortresses we almost immediately found ourselves once again in rolling high-altitude pasture, a complete contrast from the stone-and-fortress drama of the previous couple of hours. We stopped for lunch in a field that felt like a scene out of 'Heidi' before trekking onward through spruce woods and a gentle downward trail before spying Lake Saint-Pointe glittering in the distance. Not far from where we descended towards the lake proper we came across the very beautiful Source Bleue, a karstic spring where the crystal-clear water rises from a limestone cave in brilliant shades of turquoise and emerald. We may have stopped for a paddle (ye gods it was cold!).
We followed the trail down to the lake side and walked alongside it until we found the good-gentlemen-them-indoors, where else but in a lakeside bar. A swim, a glass of local rose wine, job done.
Jougne to Orbe (c.20km)
Our final full walking day of this trip was another adventurous one, starting a few kilometers down the road from our Air BnB in Malbuisson in the historic French village of Jougne which pactically overlooks the French/Swiss border controls. We started by the post office in the town centre and descended a steep path to first meet the venerable Chapel of Saint Maurice. Quiet, hugely atmospheric (and with a fabulous pilgrim stamp) the site dates back to the 9th century. Leaving the chapel behind, the path climbs up and down (but mostly up) through dense pine forests that led us ultimately to the international border into Switzerland. Hurrah!
Emerging into the Swiss village of Ballaigues we were treated to sweeping panoramas of the Swiss Plateau and were indecently excited to see in the distane the snow-capped Alps. Passing through the high pastures, the route descended fairly gently along quiet rural lanes toward Les Clées, a striking medieval village, dominated by the stone remains of its historic castle. We didn't hang around here but pushed onwards, plunging into an entriely different landscape, the deep, shaded wilderness of the Orbe Gorges. Walking high above the rushing waters of the Orbe River, the path winds under a dense canopy of ancient trees and past towering limestone cliffs. It was, frankly, a bit of an assualt on the senses, the roar of hidden waterfalls, dripping water in dark cave mouths, footbridges that suspended us above perilous drops and the swirling rapids. At a certain point there was a sign that gave us two options of paths to take; one that took a steep, switchback trail straight up the side to the top of the gorge, the other straight ahead, apparently clinging to the precipitous side of it. There were signs in French which seemed to suggest the latter might be dangerous, but full of the joys of a sunny day and possibly still wearing those same big girl pants we'd had on a few days previous (washed, obvs) we ploughed on straight ahead.
Now, I am not what you might call a natural risk taker. And whilst I am confident on most trails, as I often travel solo I am perhaps more averse to potentially dangerous teetering paths than most. Also I am pretty crap with very steep downhills. So it is with no small sense of achievement dear reader, that I can share with you that we did indeed follow that whole teetering, gorge hugging path all the way into Orbe. It was worth every second of it, no photo can do it justice; the views down the gorge, the waterfalls and majesty of nature on all sides made the effort (and, NGL, sense of terror) well worth it.
The canyon walls finally opened up and we rejoined a path more trodden before meeting the good-gentlemen-them-indoors and returning to the latter day donkey. Orbe is apparently a town worth visiting for its famous Roman mosaics, but we instead chose to celebrate our successful crossing from France into Switzerland by, errr, returning to France for more swimming in the lake, more wine and a slap up dinner.
Romainmôtier circular (c.12km)
We'd walked solidly for four days straight covering over 100km, up A LOT of up, taking in gorges, fortresses, pasture and forests. We were tired. And the good-gentlemen-them-indoors (aka saving-angels) had been stalwart in their provisioning and taxiing. So rather than press on with another 25km day we instead decided to take a more leisurely circular route that everyone could take part in, taking in 'the most beautiful village in Switzerland'. We parked perhaps 5km walk outside of Romainmôtier with an idea to walk up to the village, take a look around and then continue through woodland to end at a well known local waterfall before looping back to the car and a relaxing final evening by the lake.
Romainmôtier did not disappoint. The village sits nestled in the Nozon Valley, just a short distance from the Via Francigena trail. The location's history dates back to approximately 450 AD and is deeply intertwined with early Christianity in the region. The first monastery at Romainmôtier was built by a chap called Romanus of Condat, a saint of the 5th century, making it widely celebrated as the oldest monastery site founded in Switzerland. The original structure was destroyed in the early 7th century, was subsequently rebuilt, eventually integrating into the powerful Cluniac order during the 10th century. The 11th-century Romainmôtier Abbey that is there today is as spectacular, breathtaking and atmospheric a place to travellers today as it would have been to pilgrims of the middle ages. I can well believe that people felt they had found god here.
We tarried at a local cafe for a tisane and slice of local apple tart (reflecting how suddenely expensive everything was now we were in Switzerland- incidentally the reason French Pontarlier was so well stocked with supermarkets, all the Swiss hop across the border to do the weekly shop!) before heading uphill and then down through forest paths towards the Nozon gorge. We stopped for lunch in the forests of the Nozon valley, just next to the mysterious Pierre Gravée, a two-metre-high boulder. This is actually an ancient monument, notable for its prehistoric cupules and geometric carvings, which experts believe were etched into the stone roughly 5,000 years ago during the Neolithic era. Deep history here!
We continued on the trail to reach the spectacular Cascade du Dard, a 19-metre-high waterfall that plunges dramatically over a limestone cliff into the Nozon Gorge. We took our time paddling around it, climbing onto rocks nearby to be cooled by the fine mist of the falls. A fitting end to our walking time and plenty of time left for a final dip in the lake before our final couple of days in Lausanne.
A note on Lausanne and Montreaux
We packed up the latter day donkey the following morning and drove direct to Lausanne, checked into our hotel (the Hotel Angleterre whose most famous resident, before our arrival of course, had been Lord Byron) and the proceeded to walk up the hill to Lausanne Cathedral to claim our final pilgrim stamp of the trip. It was strange to be in a protestant cathedral again, our first since Canterbury. We explored Lausanne in desultory fashion before dipping in the hotel pool, leaping into Lake Geneva and then dining by the lakeside.
The following day we decided on a pilgrimage within a pilgrimage and took the train round the lake to the very pretty town of Montreaux, which is rightfully famous for its views and culture, but is also home to Mountain Studios, where, amongst many other famous rock and roll greats, Queen recorded some of their best work (IMHO). We had a ball geeking out at Queen memorabilia, including a mixing desk, handwritten lyrics and costumes. To top it off we took the boat (first class) back to Lausanne, with champagne on the way!
A pub dinner, a final morning dip in the lake and we said a sad farewell to our French/Swiss adventure.
All our time so far on the Via Francigena has been memorable; its such a special way of experiencing a country. I'm lucky enough to have spent loads of time in France and Switzerland over the years, but never really had even a glimpse at these jewels of landscapes, ancient cultures and history mingling with the modern to tell the tale of a shared European experience that shaped who and what we are as a continent. From neolithic carvings and 5th century monasteries, to 19th century fortifications and Freddie Mercury, this is a storied and luscious place to be spending time.
We have a few days planned in early October to take in a little more of Switzerland before heading over the St Bernard Pass next year. Which will take us into the Italian mountains, and the final road to Rome.
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