Via Lemovicensis: Lionheart

It was drizzling when I woke up, but soon stopped. The forecast called for more rain, possibly thunderstorms. Rain gear today, then. It was also a great deal warmer in the morning than it had been the past few weeks. So, rain gear tied around my waist to start. Not exactly an elegant look. My fleece started the day packed away.

Why is it whenever I’m in a gîte with other pilgrims, I can’t seem to get out of the door much before 8 AM?

Humidity was beastly this morning.

After leaving the village, the Camino eventually joined up with a busy two-lane road. There was no shoulder, so letting cars pass was sometimes a matter of walking into the bushes. Sometimes it was just grass, which was nicer.

One of the early symptoms of CJD is periodic bouts of paranoia, as the brain desperately tries to repair itself against its own repairing mechanisms. Francine when she was in the state said some terrible things to people.

For a while, she thought the nursing staff were part of a conspiracy to keep her hostage. The most heartbreaking thing in the early weeks were her pleas to just be allowed to go home.

I wanted nothing more for her, but it was, of course, impossible. Don’t we all just want to go home?

Well, she’s home now.

I walked that long road through the hamlet of La Croix Verte all the way to the village of Le Cars, where I had originally planned on spending last night. I arrived there at just past 8:30 AM. I could see Philippe ahead of me in the distance. The two French pilgrims were still packing up their bags at the gîte when I left. 

The village church in Le Cars was locked. I prayed a moment in front of the unusual metal crucifix outside before walking on. There was a lot of interesting metal work on the windows and doors of the village. I wonder if at one point it was a local industry.

The sun broke through the clouds as the Camino left the busy road for a one-lane blacktop. So much for thunderstorms.

The village was somehow large enough to have its own suburbs. The same sign that announced I was leaving Le Cars said I was entering Le Valois. And no sooner had I left there than I passed through Maison Blanche.

After this, though, I was back to the familiar countryside of alternating field and forest.

Through those early days, I was struck by Francine’s unblinking courage. She knew she would forget her diagnosis, and she made me promise to tell her the unvarnished truth if she asked.

And she did. And I did. And each time we would both end up in tears. I did this many times over the weeks. Eventually, she stopped asking. That was almost worse.

At about 9:05, I passed through the little farming hamlet of La Teyssière. The road here was covered in the fresh evidence of cows. I was sweating, not from heat but from humidity.

At about 9:20 AM, I passed through the well-kept little hamlet of Les Fosses with its beautiful little gardens. I could once again see Philippe ahead of me, and I soon caught up to him.

By the time I passed through the cozy little hillside hamlet of Lautrette about ten minutes later, Philippe had fallen behind. It was about now that I resumed my former Camino habit of praying the rosary as I walked. I was reminded of of it this morning by a timely comment by my pastor, Father Mulholland.

The Camino, meanwhile, turned off the road onto a path through deepening woods.

As I finished my rosary, the Camino left the forest and joined a road through the farming hamlet of La Petite Veyssière. 

Here I met up with one of the pilgrims I had dinner with last night, Monique from the Netherlands. As the path headed back into the woods, we talked about her Camino – she started walking from her house in the Netherlands with her husband and mother waving from the front porch. Quite the change from my case, where my friend Meg took me to the airport!

The Camino left the forest briefly for a short road walk, and here I left Monique behind. Then, back into the woods with the added bonus of an occasional meadow. The clouds were entirely gone now, and the sun was resuming the fierce face he had worn the past week.

Soon enough I was road walking again, through a scattering of houses, and then into a light industrial district. It had all the hallmarks of being the edge of a major town. It wasn’t long before I was in the town of Châlus. 

This town is most famous for a single event that took place on March 26, 1199. While besieging the local castle, King Richard the Lionhart was fatally injured by an arrow fired by the defenders. He was carried to a nearby village, where he soon died.

Richard is one of the most famous kings of England, though with the Crusades, his captivity, and fighting to claim the crown of France, he spent very little time actually in England. After he was freed from his captivity in Austria, he stopped in Saint-Léonard-de-Noblat, where I was just a few days ago, to give thanks to the Saint for his deliverance.

Interestingly, this morning at breakfast one of our French pilgrim friends referred to him as”king of France” before correcting himself. He certainly claimed to be.

When I arrived in Châlus sometime before 10:30, the remaining tower of the castle was flying a variation of the flag of Aquitaine, red with a gold lion. Another variation, with two lions, is currently hanging at Pistachio House.

After a quick diversion to the castle ruins, I headed downhill through the town to the church. This is when I discovered that there were also castle ruins in the lower town. These were apparently built much later than Richard, in the 13th century.

The little Romanesque church has extraordinarily little in the way of decoration. It looks as though at some point the interior had been whitewashed. Almost all the statues were of the mass-produced plaster variety, there was no trace of any of the original altars, and the stained glass dated to the last decades of the 19th century. There were two older wooden statues, but they were clearly brought here from elsewhere.

I suspect this building had a pretty bad time of it during the Reformation wars.

I prayed here for a while, and then had my second breakfast in the shade of the church steps. The bells chimed eleven.

Philippe caught up with me at the church, and we had a conversation while we ate. He left a few minutes before me. The threat of rain gone, I stowed my rain gear, repacked my bag, and didn’t leave those church steps until 11:25.

On the way out of town, I passed the first life-size pilgrim statue I had seen on this route so far.

I was not yet halfway through my long day, but I was feeling much better than I had been this time yesterday.

In a little garden further on, there were two more metal statues depicting the pilgrimage, as well as a little stone statue of Christ the good Shepherd.

I walked through a little bedroom community at the very edge of the town before the Camino took me back on a dirt and grass road through the forest and fields.

In one section, the forest path was lined with flowers and butterflies danced before me. I prayed another rosary – more mysteries!

At about 12:10 PM, I passed through the country hamlet of Le Lac. I saw grapevines, and rose bushes, and flowers of every description. Sadly, I was now back to road walking.

I was reminded here of the rosaries we sang in Latin as we walked the Three Hearts pilgrimage last year. Sadly, I couldn’t quite remember the tune to the Ave Maria.

At about 12:10 I passed a sign for the scattered farming hamlet of Le Moulin de Lac. As far as I could tell, it had neither a mill nor a lake. Interestingly, on the map this place is called Les Penauds. 

This was followed by a sign for Les Sechoux, which is far as I could tell was for the one house at the very end of the previous hamlet.

At about 12:30, I caught up with Philippe at a little lake. I spotted what appeared to be a pure white heron alight and then fly off.

Perhaps ten minutes later, we passed through the little hamlet of Maison Neuve. Just past it was an enormous pile of timber off to one side of the road. Philippe decided it was a good spot to sit and have lunch.

I still had some energy, so I pressed on. After a long uphill mostly in the sun to the hamlet of Montchaty, I had a great deal less energy.

The entire hamlet was surrounded by a low stone wall, and I think this may have been a monastery at one time. As I was pondering this, I took a wrong turn and added another couple of hundred meters to my day. 

I was now walking a rough dirt and stone road. The wind, which had been picking up all day, was now quite gusty. It certainly kept me cool in the sunshine!

At about 1:15 the Camino turned off onto an even rougher road: effectively two ruts and grass going sharply uphill. High hedges proved an effective wind break but provided no shade.

As I was climbing, I had this horrific thought: “what if this is purgatory?” It’s not quite as ridiculous as it sounds. Part of the pondering I’ve been doing on this Camino is how to honor my beloved bride and also let her go.

To perhaps put it a better way: I have to learn how to carry her without it weighing me down so. My pack is heavy enough, but it’s nothing compared to the other burdens I carry.

At this moment, I came to the top of the climb. There was now a delightful breeze as I walked past a flock of sheep resting in the shade. God’s poetry.

The Camino took a sharp turn on a marginally smoother pair of ruts back into the forest. Eventually, this flattened out into a sort of dirt road. It was now almost 12:30, and I had walked nearly 23 km so far today. I was feeling pretty good. 

As this road took me through forest and field, it became choked with grass, making forward progress slow.

Eventually, the path led up to an asphalt road which took me through the little suburb of Le Domaine Neuf and into the village of Firbeix. 

Although I had noticed it for the first time in Flavignac yesterday, almost every sign with a place name here is given in both French and in Occitan.

I arrived in front of the impressively large Romanesque church at just about 2 PM. Not only was the door locked, there were cobwebs on the handle. A tiny notice was pinned to a board in the front of the church showed the Mass schedule of the large geographic parish for the months of November through January (year uncertain). None of them were in this town.

I walked the entire perimeter of the building looking for another door. The only one I saw was about two meters off the ground and looked as though it was due for replacement about a century ago.

There was an open bar in town, so it was clearly time to sit in the shade with an Orangina and rest for a bit. Maybe even have some food out of my stash. I had already walked about 25 km today, and there were still about 9 km to go.

I was somewhat surprised that none of the others caught up with me as I dawdled. I left about 2:40.

Just as I crossed the street to get back on the Camino route, I ran into Monique. She was not having a good day, walking with new shoes and looking very sunburnt. We spent a few minutes talking about possible shortcuts. You could shave a couple of kilometers off the route if you were willing to walk along the highway the entire way. I was not.

She went into the bar for an Orangina  and a think, while I pushed on.

I passed through a little suburban hamlet called Puybernard just a few moments later. Here the Camino went on to another grassy road. Once under tree cover, it became a soft dirt road.

There were some muddy areas on this stretch. The biggest problem with these is not the mud – there’s almost always a way to go through or around it – it’s the mosquitoes.

Too soon it was back to asphalt roadwalking.

I passed through Aillac at about 3:10. It seems to be three well-kept houses, an old stone barn, and a railroad crossing. The only population I saw were two grazing donkeys. After this, it was back to grass and dirt in the cool of the forest.

At about 3:30, I passed through an extended farmstead. Here the Camino rejoined the asphalt, still in the shade of the forest, at least for a while.

At about 3:40 I came to a fork in the road. Taking one of these forks would bring you in 300 m or so to the village of Saint-Pierre-de-Frugie, a place with bars, restaurants, and places to sleep. I, of course, continued following the Camino the other direction.

Five minutes later I passed through the somewhat rundown hamlet of Verdenille. There was a field here of grazing goats. Here, the Camino went back into the forest on the now traditional grassy dirt road. 

I emerged onto a wide meadow with horses grazing. The path then brought me up to the well-manicured hamlet of La Roche at about 4 PM.

Now back to road walking in the blazing sun. Why is it no matter how much water I get, it’s never quite enough? Fortunately, it didn’t last long. The Camino has been good today, and now it took me down a narrow path again through the cool forest.

I have to say that, despite the many twists and turns in the route today, and especially in this last twisty section through the forest, the signage has been remarkably good. A welcome change, indeed!

At 4:40 there was a bit of bushwhacking through some tall grass and a short stretch of asphalt before returning to the forest path.

Just a few minutes later, though, I definitively left the forest for a grass path up into the village of La Coquille. There was a bit of a slug along a busy road to get out of the suburban ring and into the center of town.

I actually passed the town sign just about 5 PM. I can’t remember the last time I walked into a destination village so late in the day. Within five minutes, I was standing in front of the church. It was closed for repairs. 

The only thing now was to find the gîte. Fortunately, it was only a few minutes away. 

After showering, I treated myself to an actual washing machine to wash pretty much everything I owned. Hopefully at least some of it will be dry by morning. 

Common dinner with the pilgrims in the gîte (demi-pension) for the first time I think since Ainay-le-Château on the 16th, I think. An absolutely lovely time. 

Although today was longer than yesterday, it felt shorter. Morale is worth many kilometers. 

Happy feast of Saint Odo, to those who celebrate. 

Date: 29 April 2026

Place: La Coquille 

Today started: Flavignac 

Today’s Photos!