Via Lemovicensis: Situation Normal

An amazingly restful night. I left the gîte at 7:30. Michael the Irishman was still waking up when I left. The first order of the morning was finding some breakfast.

Today is market day in La Réole, so I was fairly confident in finding something. The Camino route took me past the old abbey church, and I was reminded that I would actually be spending the night at an abbey 25 km on or so.

The Camino took me down a set of stone stairs too the riverfront. And only then did I realize that this was not a small market. There were booths stretched out along the riverfront as far as I could see.

It took a hot minute of wandering around, but by 8 o’clock I was sitting at a table with a coffee and a pair of chocolatines. Twenty minutes later, I was on my way again.

On my way out of the market, a random gentleman wished me a Buen Camino as he passed.

Finding the Camino markers was a little difficult with all the chaos at the waterfront. I headed for the bridge and hoped for the best. I actually spotted my first marker on the bridge. 

I walked across the River Garonne on a suspension bridge designed by Gustave Eiffel. It is restricted to pedestrians, cyclists, and motorcycles.

It was just about 8:30 when I arrived on the other side of the river. I missed the turn down the narrow set of stairs, so I had to backtrack a bit. This would not be the last time today.

The stairs took me down to a lovely riverside park where the Camino followed the top of a large concrete flood barrier. This afforded some spectacular views of the city on the other side of the river.

To my left were houses and backyards. Often there were stairs from the gardens up to the flood barrier. 

The Camino soon left the barrier in favor of a nearby two-lane road. Then all indications were that the Camino followed a path between two lines of trees next to the river. I’m sure it would have been lovely, if the path had been cleared in any meaningful way. I started down this way, but within just a few meters I was literally bushwhacking through the overgrowth, some of which came up to my chest.

I was not planning to go through another day with wet shoes, so I found instead down a narrow road that paralleled the path, and walked down that until they rejoined.

But not before I pulled a thorn out of my leg which was long enough to stab through my hiking pants. 

I was so overheated from my brief, if futile, bushwhacking adventure that I took off my fleece. Probably the earliest in the day I’ve taken it off in weeks. I noticed a number of insect bites on my arms – I’m not sure how they got through my fleece. Later in the evening, I also found quite a few on my legs. Sneaky little bugs.

In my Facebook memories this morning, I read about Francine and I watching the announcement of Pope Leo. It occurs to me that because of the time difference between Tacoma and Europe, some of these memories may be not happening on the same day as I’m seeing them, if that makes any sense.

I met up again with the Camino route at about 9 AM, and I’m confident that I saved at least an hour by taking the road.

I was walking now through a managed forest, all the trees lined up in rows. I’m given to understand that this will become a usual occurrence for the next week or so. There were, however, occasional houses on my left. 

At about 9:10, the road took me through the village of Floudès. Although there was a grand old seemingly abandoned mansion at the very entrance of the village, most of the buildings here look relatively modern.

There was an old statue here of a dolphin leaping out of the water. Where the name or description should be, there was only an infinity sign. A monarchist manifesto? Or something stranger?

As I progressed through this weirdly scattered village, I discovered that the coat of arms also bears a dolphin.

The church sits literally in the middle of a field, away from every other building except the presbytery and a barn falling to ruins

The church has been continuously damaged by flooding over the years, and it’s pretty clear that they suffered some sort of damage quite recently as there is evidence of construction and damage control everywhere.

At the church I met up with Michael from Ireland again briefly.

After the village, it was roadwalking through farmland. Here, I met up with Yves from Belgium, and we chatted as we walked.

At just about 10 AM, we came to the village of Bassanne. A tiny place, and sadly the church was locked up. 

I am seeing more and more locked churches on this pilgrimage. When I walked from Le Puy three years ago, virtually every church in southern France was open, assuming you were there after 9 AM. It’s now very different. Yves says that it’s due to increasing vandalism in churches throughout France.

After the village, the asphalt road continued through farmland and small stands of trees.

At about 10:10, we arrived at a narrow canal with the rather grand name of Canal Latéral à la Garonne. There was a funky little café here, so Yves and I dropped in for coffee. Somehow, Michael was already resting here.

Michael left shortly after we arrived, and I left at about 10:30, leaving Yves there chatting with some cyclists and finishing his tea.

I roadwalked out of the village, suburban-style development on one side and farmed trees and meadow on the other.

At about 10:50, I walked into the village of Pondaurat. There is some discrepancy here between the “official route” and the GPS tracks. I followed the GPS, which may or may not have been a shortcut.

The first buildings I passed in this village were intensely modern. I would say mid-20th century at the earliest.   The village center has buildings from all sorts of eras, including some lovely traditional old stone houses with terra-cotta roofs.

The little church of Saint-Antoine is well hidden – down a cul-de-sac – and very unassuming on the outside. Whatever it may lack on the exterior, however, it more than makes up for once you get inside.

This 13th-century church was extensively remodeled in the 17th century, and then expanded in the 19th century. The walls are covered in paintwork that is absolutely gorgeous.

The stained glass windows are wonderfully expressive, and within the church there are additional “windows” painted onto the walls in imitation of them. The whole thing is harmonious and beautiful.

By the time I left, it was 11:15. As I was coming out of the church, I met up again with Yves. We had a bit of a chat before he went into the church and I went along the Camino. One of the things we both noted was how poor the Camino signage was today, especially when compared to the last week or so.

On the way out of the village, the Camino crossed over a number of small streams, with plenty of evidence of old watermills having been there.

Then the road plunged into the woods. 

At about 11:30, I emerged onto open farmland, and shortly thereafter crossed over a divided four-lane highway by bridge. 

To my left, a pine forest stretched out, while to my right more farms, tidy little houses set among plowed fields.

About 11:50, the Camino turned at the entrance to the hamlet of Espagrioulet. This appears to be a widely scattered collection of farm houses, suburban homes, and horse ranches.

The the sky was clear, and the sun beat down. Today was supposed to be cool and overcast, but it hadn’t panned out that way. At least there was a cooling wind.

The Camino passed a sign for a place called Hum before leaving the asphalt and following a grass road. I hummed; I’ve always been good at following instructions.

The grass road took me through a section through the woods where there was less grass and more mud.

I crossed a wooden bridge over a stream and walked into the hamlet surrounding Château de Bonnegarde. Unfortunately, thanks to a tall unkempt hedge, I was unable to get a decent photo of the château.

Somewhere off to my left, I could hear a church bell tolling noon. Just a few minutes later, I walked into the village of Savignac. 

When I arrived at the church, Michael was just finishing his lunch on a set of shaded steps. We had a brief conversation, and he moved on while I took his spot.

Yves soon joined me for lunch. We didn’t leave until almost 1 PM.

Now it was back to roadwalking through the woods once more. I walked on ahead, and Yves soon fell behind. It’s fine, we had just been having a conversation about the Camino giving us time to think.

Some sections of the forest were planted in rows, but much of it was random and wild. After perhaps a kilometer or so, there were once again plowed fields stretching out to my right.

The sky had gotten hazy, and the air was humid. The Camino continued to duck in and out of the woods and fields. Occasionally there would be little hamlets down access roads off to my right.

By about 1:30, the wind, which had been blowing through most of the day, became noticeably cooler.

About fifteen minutes later, I became concerned that I hadn’t seen a Camino marker in some time. I checked my GPS, and I discovered that I had indeed missed a turn. I had to walk back more than half a kilometer.

So much for being in Auros by 2:30. Apparently, this day just wasn’t long enough.

When I got back to the turn off into the woods, it was not at all obvious. There was no signage, and perhaps a dozen meters into the woods there was a chain blocking the road. This whole part of the woods was littered with enclosures built of wood and plastic sheeting. Some of them were in ruins, and some of them looked brand new.

What happened next is the stuff of nightmares.

There were several fallen trees across the trail, so I had to go into the woods around them. During the process of doing this, I got completely turned around and realized that I was suddenly quite lost in the middle of the woods with no path.

I had to bushwhack my way back to the trail using GPS and a little bit of experimentation to determine which direction I was going. I didn’t regain the path until almost 2:10.

I’m pretty sure most of the time I saved by using the road this morning I lost this afternoon.

I was exhausted and overheated, but I was also on Camino on a clearly marked dirt path through the woods, and I was feeling pretty good about it. 

Just a few minutes later, the path took me out out of those woods along a grass trail through open meadows. This took me to the little farming hamlet of Haubet and back to asphalt roadwalking.

This was followed shortly thereafter by the tiny little hamlet of Mourage. Assorted loose dogs barked me out of town, which was fine. The place seemed to be mostly derelict RVs. 

The Camino was now a rutted dirt road through the woods and fields, until it became too muddy rats through the grass.

Behind me, I heard the repeated report of some kind of firearm. Possibly it’s one of those air guns set off periodically to frighten animals away from crops, but I never really heard them fired one right after another before.

Eventually, the road was more dirt than grass again. for the first time in a long time, I was seeing consistent and frequent Camino signage.

At about 2:30, the Camino emerged from the woods into a meadow bursting with the color of wildflowers, yellow and purple and white. It was absolutely beautiful.

Here, the Camino joined a road of packed earth, stone, and gravel. The sky was a hazy blue-grey, and I was sweating profusely in the heat. I was starting to run low on water. 

Soon enough it was back to asphalt roadwalking. I walked that road all the way into the village of Auros.

The landscape was brambled forest on my right, and orchards on my left. I saw another one of those structures by the road, built of wood and plastic sheeting. This one, though, had a label on it.

This is a palombière, endemic in this region. It is a type of hunting hut in the trees, intended for hunting/catching wood pigeons. This type of hunting is especially popular in southwestern France.

In the farming hamlet of Mussac, a pheasant ran across the road directly ahead of me. My question is, if there are pheasants running around, why are they hunting wood pigeons?

After this, more and more houses began to appear. By about 2:50, I was walking through a suburban neighbourhood.

Although I never saw a sign for the village of Auros, by 3 o’clock I was walking through the middle of it.

A wedding was being celebrated in the village church, and rather than make a spectacle and give the bride and groom something to mutter about the rest of their lives, I beat a hasty retreat.

The walk out of the village was a walk through French suburbia. I even passed a family having a backyard cookout.

Throughout the rest of the day, I had to keep a careful eye on my map. There were no Camino markers for the direction I was going, even though the route is marked in my Miam-Miam Dodo guide.

By 3:30, suburbia had run its course, and I was again walking through the open countryside. Fifteen minutes later, I passed the biggest herd of cows I had seen in weeks.

At 3:50, a guy in a tractor stopped me and told me that the way ahead was closed. I had to backtrack to the cows and take the long way around, adding another kilometer to my day.

I’m fairly certain that I turned what should have been a 26 km day into a 30 km day.

I entered the village of Brannens after 4 PM. I’m sure it’s lovely – I didn’t really see any of it. I was up against a check-in deadline, and I was hustling as best as I could at this point.

At some point, the open fields became forest.

I finally arrived at Abbaye Sainte-Marie-du-Rivet at sometime before 4:30. The poor sister who checked me in knows six words of English, and even French is actually her second language; she’s originally from Slovakia.

Fortunately, there were a pair of young ladies, who I think are staying here on retreat, who were able to help deal with my six words of French and her six words of English.

Sister was very distracted by something the cat had done, and she couldn’t properly concentrate as she tried to take care of three things at once. The whole check-in process was a bit mad.

After my shower, I attended Vespers in the church with the sisters and the various guests here. And there are a pile of guests here, though I am the only pilgrim tonight. Unfortunately, due to the arrangement of the church, and where the guests sit, I could see very little of the actual church interior.

There were 14 guests for dinner, including me. I basically had seconds of everything. Most of the other guests were happy to indulge me once they found out I was on Camino. Apparently the need for calories is a known thing.

Since I’ve now been walking a full month – 31 days – I thought some stats might be fun. Since leaving Vézelay I have walked (by my count) 838.1 km, an average of just a shade over 27 km a day. 

For reference, my goal was about 25 km a day. Fortunately, I’ve got a short day tomorrow. That will help.

Date: 09 May 2026

Place: Abbaye Sainte-Marie-du-Rivet 

Today started: La Réole 

Today’s Photos!