In the diagonal of the void, “happy people form an invisible chain”

You gave us an appointment at the foot of the Saint-Jacques tower, in the heart of Paris. Do you have a special reason?

This place marked a new start in my existence. After a questioning period, following my dismissal from France Inter in 2019, I decided, in the sixties, to undertake the Path of Compostela. On March 21, 2022, I came to the foot of this monument, the starting point for the pilgrims, without knowing if I was going to travel the 1840 km which separated me from Saint-Jacques-de-Compostela. This adventure gave me confidence. She reconnected me to the world and offered me a new way of telling it, through the podcast that I recorded on the way, baptized afterwards Pauchon’s Broop .

Where does the word “Balado” come from?

Quebecers speak of “Broady”, and I was seduced by this word. He evokes both walking and listening. He looks like me.

A year later, you decide to hit the road …

When I returned from Saint-Jacques-de-Compostela, I asked Lauranne, my wife, how she had experienced my absence of two months. And she replied, “Life is easier when you’re not there. »At the beginning, I took it very badly: I did not have the feeling of being so painful to live … before seeing the positive side: I could leave! What is more, while I was walking, a listener of my podcast had sent me a message with this quote from Saint Augustine: “Filling up on what we are empty and empty of what we are full of. »»

This quote appears in highlight of your book. How did you play it?

She encouraged me to continue to fill up … meetings. But also to empty in this overflow of certainties which, sometimes, prevented me from being happy. This is how I decided to walk through the diagonal of the vacuum: 1500 km of Givet, in the Ardennes, to Messanges, in the Landes. The name of these two municipalities seemed to me to be charged with meaning. I saw a wire to follow.

When did you hear about the diagonal of the void for the first time?

I had to hear about it in college or high school. During geography, we learn that the expression designates this strip of territory, from northeast to southwest, where population density is less than 30 inhabitants per square kilometer. In the past, we mentioned the “French desert”, today we are talking about “low density diagonal”: in each era its way of qualifying it. There remains for the general public a certain pejorative connotation. On the contrary, I see poetry, a field of possibilities, a space to explore; Because there is no marked path, no frequented passage, no tourist business with the key. In short, I liked everything: a promise of silence, slowness, meetings off the beaten track. No arrow route, no organized tourism. Just a route to trace, to the rhythm of people, carried by curiosity with this question: what makes you happy?

Precisely, have you seen happy people on your way?

Throughout the course, only one person gave me a disillusioned speech. He was a young man, crossed on the village square of Diou, in Allier. He challenged me: “Welcome to the Diagonale des Forglés”, explaining to me that everyday life was difficult because of the disappearance of public services. In all honesty, everywhere else, I saw something else: a real quality of life. People who flourish in contact with nature, who savor space. Some have chosen to settle here, others were born there … and almost never left, except for military service! All were moved that we were interested in them. For the first time in their existence, they felt listened to.

Does the fact that they are rarely called upon to testify favored contact?

Walking to meet them has made things easier. They saw me approach with my backpack, thought I was looking for my way, and were ready to help me. I was approaching them by presenting myself simply, tending my microphone: “Hello, my name is Hervé, I’m a journalist, I cross France on foot, can I ask you a question? I never felt my intimidated interlocutors. On the contrary, the conversation undertook naturally.

Does it keep more availability?

On the diagonal of the void, not everyone lives at the same pace. In the middle of a sowing period, Fabien, a farmer met in the Dordogne, does not have time to wonder if he is happy. 7 km away, I got to know Kim, of Cambodian origin, and his stone companion. Former restaurateurs in Paris, they left everything after the 2015 attacks to settle in the countryside, in search of a more peaceful existence. Today, they renovate a house with the idea of opening a cottage and guest rooms there. They suspend their tasks, time to tell their journey, while inviting me to share a mushroom omelet. A simple pleasure, like their daily lives.

Was this walk therapeutic?

Yes, deeply. In silence, thoughts flock, emotions go up. We go back to life, we digest. We advance, physically and internally. Then one day, the lack appears. That of the home. It is then time to come back. Join Lauranne and the children.

And you, what makes you happy, Hervé Pauchon?

The life. I give thanks for everything she brings me, even in her trials. Be careful, I am well aware that the world is not pink. But with my microphone, I try to add touches of rose around me. Like a painter on his canvas.

So the microphone was not a brake on exchanges?

Well, no. The microphone opened much more than a simple conversation: it created a real space for dialogue. Someone entrusts me with a moment of his life … and, later, a listener, sometimes miles away, listens. Something happens between them. A link is woven, because they share interests, because they recognize each other, bring each other. This invisible chain touches me deeply. Giving the floor to others remains, in my eyes, essential. These are all opportunities to live unique moments, engraved forever in my memory.

For example ?

In front of his carpentry workshop which opens on the mountains of Auvergne, Bernard welcomed me with a large smile, in blue overalls. Retired, he continues to work, because it makes him happy. That day, he made a oak kitchen furniture for his wife; A longtime promise that was late to materialize. He also had some orders for his friends. His generosity, his simplicity, his quiet joy deeply touched me. In the media, we rarely talk about these discreet happiness. However, they say something precious about human nature. Like this hospitality from which I had so much: barely landed in Givet, a hotelier gave me a room. Others opened their house to me or, for lack of space, unrolled a mattress in their garage. At each stage of my journey, various, unexpected, always sincere forms of reception. A humanity that feels good.