Chronicles of the March in English

Lizant, September 1

Day 38 of the March on Brussels. From Mansle, 27 km.

Dear people,

The Charrente is one of the poorest regions of France. And the locals who come to talk to us here offer us a lot of goodwill. They open their doors for people who need a shower, they bring food, they encourage us to go on. After the estranged and worried looks we experienced in the south, it seems as though our march is starting to make an impact.

In the end it’s logical that it be that way. We are peaceful people marching for a human cause, and the locals here appreciate that. This also goes for the police. We haven’t had any real problems with them since Bayonne. When we arrived in Angoulême, the police said that for them it wouldn’t a problem if we camped in the centre of the town. Later, a representative from the city council came to visit us and said it was out of the question. We camped anyway, and the police refused to do something about it.

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