{"id":20360,"date":"2026-04-19T12:10:28","date_gmt":"2026-04-19T19:10:28","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.thomryng.com\/camino\/?p=20360"},"modified":"2026-04-19T12:10:30","modified_gmt":"2026-04-19T19:10:30","slug":"via-lemovicensis-graces-in-all-abundance","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.thomryng.com\/camino\/via-lemovicensis-graces-in-all-abundance\/","title":{"rendered":"Via Lemovicensis: Graces in all Abundance"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

I<\/span> was up early, but we let breakfast drag on a bit too long. Wim, Judith, and I set out after 8 AM. We were further distracted by a house in the town decorated like a cake. Finally, though, we managed to find the route.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Soon enough, we were roadwalking in the French countryside. And it was only at this moment that I remembered to turn on my tracker. Whoops.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Our first little Hamlet of the day was La Vielle For\u00eat, about half of which appears to be abandoned. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Just a few minutes later, we walked through Bellevue. It’s quite a far cry from the one in Washington state. This is just a little hamlet with old stone houses with terra-cotta roofs.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Based on some of the houses we had already seen today, it appears that there’s a strong contingent of whimsy in this region. I’m not sure you could get away with some of these paint schemes in Washington’s Bellevue!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Bellevue passed smoothly to the next named hamlet, Les Archers, where I had hoped to find a caf\u00e9 for second breakfast. In fact, there were at least two, but we had started so late I was loathe to stop.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

So the three of us pushed on. This was, I think, the first time on this Camino I had actually walked any length of distance with other pilgrims. Normally we leapfrogged each other, or only saw each other at the beginning in the end of the day. It was a nice change for a few hours. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

This almost but not quite a village is famous for its pottery. There’s a pottery museum here, and I counted at least a dozen pottery studios.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Soon enough, the road took us back into the countryside. In the morning light, the trees and fields were absolutely beautiful. And not just beautiful \u2013 a healing kind of beautiful that’s difficult to explain. It’s like God’s love was shining through His creation. I don’t think the photos come close to capturing it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The morning was warming up \u2013 I took off my fleece at about 9:20 AM. Slowly, we three little ducklings spread out, and by the time the Camino entered a short stretch of woods just ten minutes later, I was walking alone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Shortly thereafter, I crossed over a stream and into the village of Saint-Jeanvrin. Wim caught up to me as I was taking a photo of the church.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Depending on which chronology is accurate, this lovely little church dates either to the very early 12th century or to the mid 13th century. There is some interesting fresco work here very badly in need of restoration. The altar may very well be the original, but at some point someone has hacked out the relics. There’s a little slip of paper in the chiseled out section praying for pardon, reparation, and mercy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was a beautiful little place for a morning prayer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I had a quick second breakfast out of my stash on a picnic table in front of the church before moving on. It was nearly 10 AM, and I figured I had at least another 7 km before any place that was likely to have lunch available.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was 10:20 AM before I passed through the one-house hamlet of Les Tr\u00e9venant. (No, I don’t know either why a single house would get a map designation, but there you go.)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I passed through the proper little hamlet of Sept Fonds at 10:30 AM. By now, I had already lathered up with sunscreen.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At about 10:50 AM, as I was passing through the farming hamlet of Le Pied du Montet, I spotted the hilltop village of Ch\u00e2teaumeillant, where I intended lunch. That put a skip in my step!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As I passed through the hamlet of La Ragoterie with its impressive ch\u00e2teau at 11 AM, I found myself singing. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

In no time at all, I was walking through the residential neighborhoods on the outskirts of Ch\u00e2teaumeillant<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I arrived at the church, and as I was taking photos of the door, I heard chanting from inside. I opened the door to the scent of incense. A new chant began, a whole congregation singing. And although I did not recognize the melody, I certainly recognized the words, “sanctus, sanctus, sanctus…”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The choir was just heavenly, their sweet voices accompanied by an organ echoing through the medieval stone church. The priest prayed (and partially sang) the Roman Canon in French. The congregation and choir sang the Latin responses in a modern melody I did not recognize. The church was full of parishioners, young and old.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The high altar had six lit candles, with triple candelabras at the side, and the modern main altar had four candles, a crucifix, and flowers. During the Eucharistic prayer, two servers stood at each side of the main altar with additional candles. The Pascal candle stood at the ambo, and the various shrines and side altars throughout the church fairly glowed with votive candles.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I counted four altar servers, one of whom did double duty as an usher during Communion.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The priest himself led a reflective song after Communion, and the Pascal candle was carried out in the recessional instead of the cross.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And that, my friends, is how I accidentally more or less made my Sunday obligation today.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

After Mass, the sacristans stripped everything practically down to bare stone. It was an impressive and efficient operation. I took the opportunity for some additional prayers, and to light a candle for Francine at a shrine dedicated to Our Lady of the Holy Rosary.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As I left, I noticed the priest was hearing Confessions in the back of the church.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

All in all, an absolutely unexpected grace today.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was already noon as I walked through the village. Ch\u00e2teaumeillant appears to be quite the bustling village, and I saw plenty of places for lunch. Unfortunately, every one of them was closed on a Sunday. Man does not live by bread alone, but it sure does help.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This was a large enough village that it was past 12:20 by the time I was getting out into open countryside. By my account, I had about 18 km yet to go in this long day.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The afternoon was cool, and there was just enough overcast to stop the sun beating down. It was a pretty perfect afternoon for a roadwalk through the French countryside. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

As I climbed up out of the valley towards the hamlet of Acre, I noticed several birds of prey riding the thermals overhead.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At about 12:45 PM, I spent a moment at a monument to two heroes of the French resistance who were executed at Buchenwald. A sobering reminder that men still do evil to men in this world. And it’s not likely to stop.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

By the time I arrived in the village of N\u00e9ret, it was 1 PM. The church here is a simple, elegant Romanesque barrel vault. It does actually have a crossing with side chapels, but it’s just about as minimal as you could imagine. That said, you could feel the sense of harmony and proportion just walking in the door. It feels monastic to me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I spent a minute or so on a bench outside the church to eat a hunk of cheese and a couple of cookies before continuing back into the countryside. As I was leaving the village, I noticed a sign that said it was 1557 km to Santiago. I’m not sure I believe it, but it’s as good a number as any.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Soon after, the Camino left the asphalt for a dirt farm road, which got decidedly grassier the further along it went. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

By 1:45 PM, I was back on asphalt, walking through the little hamlet of La Chaume des Bois.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The sun was out now; time for more sunscreen. Somewhere in the distance, someone fired a shotgun. Given the number of ducks around here, I’ll wager on birding.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At just about 2 PM, I came up on a wooden sign which seemed to show a turn on the Camino. This didn’t seem right to me, and so I checked my GPS. That road goes nowhere, and sign is a lie. I can’t imagine who put it there, but it’s affixed into the ground and would be very difficult to move.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Shortly thereafter, I passed through the farming hamlet of L’Ajass\u00e9e, with its old stone buildings juxtaposed with a couple of very modern ones. The fields seem to go on forever.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A short distance away, the next hamlet of L’Orme Gu\u00e9rin was more stone buildings and no modern ones.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At about 2:20, I passed through the sprawling hamlet of Fontenay, followed immediately by Les Ormeaux, which seemed to consist of three barns. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

During this whole section of the walk, I was deep in my head, working things through. At one point, I was singing a little snatches of one of my favorite Camino songs, “Somewhere Along the Way”. When I sang these lines:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n

Will you walk beside me? <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Will you lead the way?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Footsteps by the fountain <\/p>\n\n\n\n

carry me away. <\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

I just started weeping, missing Francine, missing her laughter and her Camino joy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

People have asked me if now I will be a priest. Leaving aside the question of age, which would in any case be determinative, I do not believe this is my vocation. Other folks have (very timidly) asked if I would consider dating again. I have to tell them, I don’t think this is my vocation either. Francine was my vocation. And I don’t know where you go from there.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I nearly missed a turn onto a dirt road. And then I saw Judith relaxing on a bench.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Together we walk down the grassy road. About 20 minutes later, it turned onto asphalt as we chatted. at about 2:50 PM, the road became dirt, and long level farm fields stretched out on either side.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

There was only one stand of trees visible, and after just another kilometer, the dirt road turned into it. The shade was lovely, but of course it didn’t last. Soon enough we were back to asphalt roadwalking through the open fields.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At about 3:15 PM, we passed through the little hamlet of Les Bergeries, where we could hear the laughter of children in the distance, though the only actual inhabitant we saw was a horse.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We arrived in the village of Lacs just a few minutes later. My MMD says that this village has a cr\u00eaperie, but we did not see it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The bell chimed 3:30 as we visited the simple Romanesque church of Saint Martin. It appears that much of the original decoration has been stripped out and replaced, probably in the 19th century. Nonetheless a serene and noble church. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The way from here was through a suburban neighborhood on one side, and wide open farmland on the other. Eventually, we ran out of suburb, and we were roadwalking through the fields once more.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

By 3:50 PM, we were back in the burbs, which I turned out to be the outskirts of the town of La Ch\u00e2tre. The sun was beating down with a fierceness.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At 4:05 PM, we had our first definitive view of the church, and the old medieval town is at the very top of a hill. It took another 15 minutes before we were safely in ensconced inside the g\u00eete in the presbytery. The young priest who checked us in was kind and enthusiastic.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It turns out that there are only four of us here tonight: me, Judith, and Wim and Tineke. The gang’s back together again!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I was in desperate need of a shower, a drink, and a meal. Probably in that order.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

By 5:30, I was showered and more or less cleaned up and ready to explore the town. First stop was the church down the block: Saint-Germain. You can see its steeple from the whole district, but to see anything else of the outside architecture involves wandering through winding narrow medieval streets.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The interior is the white cool Gothic that just screams “19th century restoration”. It has a sort of triumphalist exuberance that sometimes you don’t even see in cathedrals. A little bit overwhelming, but glorious.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It also has its quiet little corners: a little shrine of Saint Anthony, the modern but noble Eucharistic chapel, and the odd little choir seating outside of the sanctuary where I prayed Vespers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The sanctuary itself has three altars: the high altar, a small table altar in front of that, and then following an interval of seating facing both directions, a main table altar facing the nave. Most interesting.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I took any number of photos, but none of them can really do the place justice.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I took a stroll around the hilltop \u2013 the old medieval center of town \u2013 and discovered that basically everything was closed on a Sunday. I did enjoy the mixture of relatively modern with medieval architecture \u2013 and window shopping in the plethora of bookstores and antique shops.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I found the one open brasserie in the district and grabbed my dinner, and a well-deserved beer, there. The next few days are relatively short, unless I get lost. Looking forward to that.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Today has been a day of uncommon graces, from the healing beauty of this morning’s countryside to the divine liturgy in Ch\u00e2teaumeillant to the monument to the resistance heroes to contemplation and cogitation to sobbing for loss of Francine to the wonders of La Ch\u00e2tre to my sore and tired feet. All of it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Date:<\/strong> 19 April 2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n