Leaving Orbe, the route took me back up the gorge of the river Orbe for a short while – this time on the other bank. Saturday morning activities abounded – with football occupying a good number of Orbites, or Orbeans, or whatever the locals are called.

It soon became clear that other Saturday morning activities included gun clubs. I passed a range with targets on runners as I entered the gorge and a little while later I could hear the tell-tale sounds of a rifle range. By this time I was walking through woodland, so I was glad the shots were too regular to be hunters. I had left my cigarette case at home which I’d normally anticipate stopping a bullet!

To be serious though, it is a rather disconcerting thought knowing that so many people have firearms over here.

The gorge was spectacular once again, with narrow paths and steep drops. However I soon climbed out and was in woodland heading towards the village of Bretonnières.

This route was an odd one, rather than heading south towards Lausanne it was taking a hefty dog leg out to the west. However, as I passed log cabins on the edge of more woodlands it became clear why.

About 10 km into the walk, this stage would take me through the village of Romanmôtier and its abbey church. A monastery was founded here as early as the 6th Century, and the current Romanesque church was built as a daughter house of Cluny Abbey.

It was raining as an entered the village, but I was instantly captivated by the siting of abbey church in a fold of the hillside, with the village nestled around it. It looked for all the world like a medieval monastic settlement.

As I arrived at the west end, I found a nun informing a family that midday prayers were about to be said and that they were welcome to join, or to visit in 15 minutes when the service had finished. I asked to join, and was led by the hand to a place in the quire where six or seven other people were sitting.

The monastic community at Romanmôtier was dissolved at the Reformation in 1536, and today the church is part of the protestant Swiss Reformed Chirch. However six days a week, three times a day, and ecumenical service is held in French, based on the monastic offices. A hymn was sung (in which those present slipped comfortably into four part harmony), two psalms were also sung, followed by a short reading and a time of silent prayer, before another sung canticle, blessing and closing responses.

I was so pleased to have arrived in time for the service and it was a very special place in which to worship.

After the service, the sister stamped my credential and then showed me to a chapel dedicated to St Michael, above the 12th Century narthex. With three churches dedicated to the Archangel in my care, it seemed like a very appropriate place to stay and pray for a while as my journey was coming towards a close.

Here follows some picture of the main church itself. I could have stayed there all day. The nave dates from the tenth century and much wall painting and frescoes survive.

Outside was a busy inner courtyard with lots of people eating and chatting. While the cloister and chapter house had been pulled down at the Reformation and other monastery buildings converted of destroyed, there was still a strong sense of being inside the monastery complex.

It was with a heavy heart that I left Romainmôtier. It was a jewel in my walk, and a place I would like to visit again. The fact that prayer is still at the heart of that beautiful building shone through. It didn’t feel like a museum piece, but a living, breathing expression of God’s presence.

Much of the remaining walk was now over fields or through woodland. It was becoming increasingly hot and by three o’clock I had reached La Sarraz. There was still 9km to go – just over two hours. I was tired. I decided to take the train on to Cosonnay. I was booked into the Hotel Funi, next to the funicular railway which connects the town to the mainline railway in the valley below.

Some might count it as cheating, but I judged it as prudence. I felt another couple of hours walking in the heat would do me no good at all. What had however done me good was worshipping at Romainmôtier… that was a glimpse of heaven.