2,000 km on his Boda Boda: a French journalist rides across France

What if we rediscovered France… differently?

Not from a high-speed train or even a national road, but from trails, footpaths, and forgotten country lanes. That’s exactly what Hervé Pauchon, journalist, podcaster, and former France Inter contributor – set out to do through a unique human adventure, right in the heart of what the French call “La Diagonale du Vide”, the least densely populated part of the country.

What is “La Diagonale du Vide”?

La Diagonale du Vide refers to the broad swathe of land stretching from the northeast to the southwest of France, running from the Meuse to Les Landes region. Known for having the lowest population density in the country, this area is nonetheless rich in life, authenticity, and history.

In these sparsely populated regions lies another kind of wealth: the stories, voices, and encounters often overlooked in our fast-paced modern world.

2023: a walk across France, microphone in hand

In 2023, Hervé Pauchon took on a challenge: to walk across this rural regions, solo, with only his microphone for compagny. Each day, he asked the same simple yet profound question to those he met along the way: “What’s made you happy today?”

The voices he captured, the stories he gathered, and the raw, heartfelt answers he received became the heart of his daily podcast, La Balado de Pauchon, released every morning at 6 a.m.

This 1,500 km journey on foot, filled with hundreds of encounters, was later brought together in a touching book: Ma Balado. In it, he tells the story of faces and voices that marked his path.

2025: back on the road through La Diagonale du Vide

In May 2025, Hervé set out again. This time, he swapped hiking boots for a bike. Not just any bike, a Boda Boda. This robust, practical, and elegant cargo bike was the perfect choice for carrying everything he needed.

In his three bags: two Eco Baguette and one Grab & Go, he packed:

• 60 books of Ma Balado
• His personal belongings
• A new question to ask along the way: “What do you want to share with the world?”

The goal of this new journey was to revisit those he had met along the way, offer them his book, and open a new chapter in the conversation.

Each day: a new stage, a new voice, a new episode

Just like his first journey, each day of this new adventure becomes an episode of his podcast.

La Balado de Pauchon remains a daily morning ritual, an invitation to discover a different France, far from clichés and far from the big cities.

These are anecdotes and stories told by the riverbank, in the heart of a village, confidences exchanged on a bench, and life philosophies shared over coffee or a meal. Simple moments, yet deeply meaningful.

A human adventure above all

This journey wasn’t just about the itinerary. It wasn’t about performance or records, even though he covered 2,000 km in a single month. It was about listening, taking time, and being attentive to silences and the unspoken.

It’s a tribute to rural France, to discreet people, to rare words. It’s also an invitation to slow down, listen, and to pass something on. A journey at human scale, in an era that’s always in a hurry.

“What I want to share with the world is the joy of travelling slowly.” — Hervé Pauchon

Follow the adventure

Dive into this gentle and profound odyssey. Follow Hervé Pauchon and his Boda Boda on the roads of France and rediscover what it means to pass something on.

• Listen to La Balado de Pauchon on all platforms
• Watch an excerpt on France 3
• Order the book of Ma Balado

Discover his equipment here:

• Boda Boda Active Edition
• Grab & Go
• Eco Baguette

Exclusive interview: Hervé Pauchon reflects on his journey

To better understand what drives Hervé Pauchon, we turned the microphone on him. From radio to hiking, from podcasting to cargo biking, he shares his journey, choices, and this new human adventure across France aboard his faithful Boda Boda.

Hervé, for those who don’t know you yet, can you tell us a bit about your background?

Before traversing the roads of France on foot or by bike, I was an actor. But being an actor often means depending on others’ desires. At 30, I wanted to take control of my path. I entered a radio contest: the challenge was to create your own show, recorded like a real radio program. I won that contest. The first prize was a daily show throughout the summer. That’s when I discovered how much I loved telling stories, holding out the microphone, listening. A producer then offered me a spot on a reportage show: Là-bas si j’y suis, hosted by Daniel Mermet on France Inter. I stayed there for 25 years.

In the end, I even had my own segment: Un temps de Pauchon. I did field reports, editing, and live studio presentations. It was going well… until a new management came in. A director who, let’s say, didn’t appreciate me. And one day, I was fired.

And then?

I wondered what to do next. I focused on my family: my wife, my three children. Soon, I felt the need to embark on a personal project. I had this idea to walk to Santiago de Compostela and narrate the journey day by day in a podcast. As far as I know, no one had done that before.

I left Paris on March 21, 2022, and arrived in Compostela on May 26. One episode each day. Result: over a million listens. A sonic and human adventure that made me want to continue.

After Compostela, how did the idea of crossing France’s most rural regions come about, and what inspired you to return two years later by bike?

After Compostela, the idea took hold: to set out again, but this time elsewhere, differently. I decided to cross one of France’s most rural and sparsely populated regions. No fixed route, no signposts and none of the structures you found on the Camino de Santiago. Everything had to be imagined.

I slept at locals’ homes every night. I never slept outside. And it’s true that my familiar voice from France Inter sometimes opened doors. A publisher offered to turn it into a book. I accepted. This book, Ma Balado, was born from those encounters. Once the writing was done, I wanted to go back. To see those people I had met on foot, to thank them, to offer them the book.

Why the Boda Boda?

I didn’t want to set off for two months again. I needed a shorter, more flexible format. In my search, I came across Yuba’s Boda Boda: a sturdy, stable electric longtail bike, perfect for carrying my panniers full of books.

How did this bike change your way of traveling?

The bike changed my sense of rhythm. On long straight roads, like in the Landes, it’s smooth: you move almost like in a movie. On foot, those same roads can feel endless. But on a bike, sometimes you go too fast. I often found myself turning back because I had seen a house, a face, a silhouette, and thought: “Hey, there might be a story there.”

I must say, for my next adventure, I might choose to go by bike again. It’s also a matter of duration: walking for two months is long, especially when you have a family. With the bike, I managed this journey in a month, allowing me to have this experience without too much disruption to my personal life. And that’s precious.

What did you like about the Boda Boda?

The Boda Boda is an incredibly sturdy bike. I rode along dirt tracks, sandy paths, and at times my GPS would send me off course, but I always made it through. There were moments when I had to hop off and push the bike, but thanks to that little throttle that kicks in the motor while walking, it made all the difference! The bike never felt too heavy.

People I met along the way would often say, “Your bike is stunning!” I started calling it my “baudet” —a nod to the donkey I once had on the Stevenson Trail, also known as the GR70, crossing from the Massif Central into the deep Cévennes. My Boda Boda was more than just a bike, it was a travel companion. From the Belgian border to the Spanish one. Border to border. A story that made perfect sense for my podcast.

And going back to see the people you had met—how did they react?

They were all delighted. It was really touching. Normally, a journalist comes along, asks a few questions… and you never hear from them again. This time, I came back two years later, book in hand: Ma Balado and inside, I spoke about them. I asked, “What’s changed since we last met, two years ago?”

People were moved. There were some really emotional moments. Some told me it was the first time someone had genuinely taken an interest in their lives. These were magical moments—real encounters, even deeper than before.

I think of one farmer, for example, who had told me back then that he was planning to retire. Two years later, I returned to see him… and no, he hadn’t retired. But he had sold the farm, become an employee, felt lighter and more serene. He still looked after the cows—but without the stress. Just a different way of moving forward.

You travelled through forgotten villages and quiet backroads. Was there a particular moment that really stayed with you?

Yes, in the Cantal. A hilly day, hardly any battery left, and the fear of not making it to the next stop. I passed a farm, and there was an older woman outside. I asked her, “Excuse me, could I charge my bike for a bit?” She said, “Of course, put it in the barn—the cows aren’t there anymore.”

So I plugged the bike in, and we started talking. Her son arrived, then her grandson. All three of them worked on the farm. They told me about their lives.

Okay, they didn’t invite me to lunch… even though she was making chips that smelled amazing! But later I thought: maybe in the Cantal people are a bit cautious at first. She was kind. They let me charge the bike in the barn. And I rode off again, bike fully charged and full of new stories to tell.

And today, what do you want to share with the world?

What I want to share the joy of slow travel. That very simple idea: that a journey begins the moment you step out the door. As soon as you leave behind the roads you know by heart. And for that, the bike is perfect.

On foot, people have time to see me coming with my microphone. The encounter happens gradually. On a bike, it’s a bit quicker—but you can always stop, always turn back.

One day, deep in the countryside, I passed an isolated house. In the garden was a little Buddha statue. I found it amusing, hit the brakes, and turned back. A woman saw me from her kitchen and came outside. She told me about her life, her practice of reflexology.

And the Boda Boda has a brilliant double kickstand. I could leave it anywhere, it stood there, steady and solid. You just need to make sure no one walks off with it!

So yes, what I want to share with the world is the joy of slow travel.

Through his journey, Hervé Pauchon invites us to rethink the way we travel, less speed, more presence, more human connection.
What he shares isn’t just a podcast or a book, but a way of being in the world: curious, attentive, and humble. His Boda Boda isn’t just a cargo bike—it’s a travelling companion, a reason to connect, a silent steed that opens the door to conversation.

Every kilometre becomes a chance for encounter. Every detour, an opportunity to pause and listen.
In a world that keeps speeding up, Hervé reminds us that we can always slow down, take a breath, meet others… and pass something on.
And sometimes, to move forward, all you need to do, is take your time.