{"id":20662,"date":"2026-04-27T13:19:48","date_gmt":"2026-04-27T20:19:48","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.thomryng.com\/camino\/?p=20662"},"modified":"2026-04-27T13:19:50","modified_gmt":"2026-04-27T20:19:50","slug":"via-lemovicensis-limoges","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.thomryng.com\/camino\/via-lemovicensis-limoges\/","title":{"rendered":"Via Lemovicensis: Limoges!"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

T<\/span>here were four of us in the g\u00eete last night: Philippe and me, a French woman named Mart\u00edn, and a taciturn Frenchman named Jean-Michel. I saw from the g\u00eete’s guestbook that Wim and Tineke had been there the night before.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The morning started with me pulling a tick out of Philippe’s backside, so you know it’s going to be one of those days.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We managed to leave before 8 o’clock, but just barely. The morning was cool and crisp with just a hint of clouds in the sky. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

On our way out of town, we passed under what looked like a Roman viaduct but was almost certainly a railway bridge. I hadn’t realized just how steep the valley there is \u2013 there were cliff faces visible in places.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At about 8:10, we passed over the RIver Vienne on 13th century foot bridge (Pont de Noblat) into an old medieval neighborhood that I’m pretty sure was once the village of Le Bas Ch\u00e2teau. I tried the door at the church, but of course it was locked. I could see the interior through the keyhole; I tried to take a photo, but of course I could not get my phone camera to focus.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Philippe, of course, hadn’t bothered to check. He’s probably smarter than me. In any case, he was now well ahead of me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I soon passed over a much more modern Pont de Noblat on a sidewalk next to a divided highway with houses built under and into looming cliffs on the other side.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

By about 8:30, there were a huddle of mostly abandoned medieval-looking buildings on either side of the highway, some forgotten hamlet. Shortly after this, the city and the sidewalk ended, and the Camino turned down a much less busy road at a place called L’Usine de Pont. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

And then suddenly it was up a steep dirt path into the forest. I was a sweaty mess by the time I got to the top. The path continued through forest and meadow on a much gentler slope. The path eventually merged into a wide, rough dirt road.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Every time I was out in the open and thinking I should remove my fleece, the Camino inevitably ducked back into the dark cool of the forest. All along the path in this section, I was constantly seeing shells nailed into trees or posts or even fallen logs at the side of the road. Most of them were brightly painted.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I finally removed my fleece in the suburban hamlet of Chigot at about 9 o’clock. As I was later walking through the woods again, the tune to an old Pink Martini song popped into my head. It was probably the closest thing we had to “our song”. I whistled the tune as I walked for most of the day. I never could keep the lyrics straight \u2013 they are, in fact, in French.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At about 9:10, the Camino rejoined an asphalt road. A few minutes later, I passed through the farming hamlet of La Chapelle. Despite the name, the distinguishing feature of the place is a ch\u00e2teau and not a chapel. Other than the great house, much of the place seems to be abandoned and falling into ruin.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

What a lot of things the word ch\u00e2teau<\/em> can mean! It can mean an old medieval castle, it can mean a great 14th-century manor, it can mean an 18th-century noble house, and probably a lot of other things besides.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At about 9:30, the Camino passed an unusual roadside cross. The sun was beating down, and my stomach was already rumbling for second breakfast. Fortunately, the Camino kept ducking in (and out) of tree cover, which provide provided some temporary relief from the sun.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Camino bypassed the charming little farming hamlet of Chenour at about 9:45 but went through the neighboring hamlet of Lafont mere minutes later. It was here that I found a shady spot to rest and have second breakfast out of my stash. Wild mint grew all around a little wall I sat on.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was a good ten minutes before I started roadwalking again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I saw a couple of what I believe to be alpacas as I passed through the hamlet of Les Charrauds at some point after 10 AM. Shortly afterwards, the Camino left the asphalt for a smooth and easy dirt path into the forest, the kind we used to call “cruisey”, because you could just cruise along on it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Francine, in the course of her long-storied life in fiber arts, knit any number of things out of alpaca wool. There’s probably some of that wool still at Pistachio House. I have yet to tackle cleaning out her office, which is where the majority of her fiber stash is kept.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Eventually, I hope to transform her office into a guest bedroom. I think she would like that.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At one point I heard a rustling in the bushes beside me, which in my imagination was a viper. It was almost certainly actually one of the little lizards I keep seeing along the path.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At about 10:25, I walked into the large, scattered hamlet of Le Petit Chavagnac, and I was immediately struck by a large stately house (ch\u00e2teau?). It looks like a 19th-century construction in a retro medieval style. Absolutely delightful.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was also here that I realized that I was at least 300 m from the Camino according to the GPS, and probably had been for some time, but I was literally looking at a Camino blaze right in front of me. I knew that they had done a reroute of this stage over the last couple of years, but I didn’t realize that the GPS wasn’t yet updated.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Since it looked as though the old route was all road walking, and most of what I had done today had been on dirt paths or roads, I was very much OK with it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It did mean, however, that if I took a wrong turn I couldn’t rely on my GPS to get me back to the Camino. I had to make a concerted effort to pay attention to the signs around me. Easier said than done.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I also had to hope that the way markings were consistent and accurate, which had been something of a problem the last week or so. For now, at least, it was back to the cruisey forest path.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At 10:45, I came to my first unclear marker. The path had crossed a road, and the sign seemed to indicate another path on the other side, which however was barred with a metal gate.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

After some moments of hesitation, I went through anyway. The path took me on a rough stone bridge over a stream and then along an old stone wall beside a meadow.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Eventually, I realized the problem. The fence between the meadow and the path had been knocked down in several places. I had to navigate my way past some grazing cattle.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The cow road eventually brought me into the middle of the village of Aureil. I had to take off my backpack to fit under the barrier keeping the cows out out of town.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

By 11 o’clock, I was standing in front of the large and impressive village church of Saint John the Evangelist, who seems to be very popular in these parts. I was about to try the door when Philippe walked out. We had a short conversation about cows, and he walked on while I visited the church.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The building itself is Romanesque, but all of the interior furnishings look to be much later \u2013 perhaps 17th century.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The church has a long history of destruction. If I read the history posted by the door correctly, it was originally built in the 12th century as part of a priory and subsequently destroyed and rebuilt at least three times during various wars in the 14th, 15th, and 16th centuries. It was seized by the revolutionary government in the late 18th century and parts of it demolished. It was most recently restored and partially rebuilt in the late 19th century and now serves as a parish church.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I sat and prayed there a while before moving on at about 11:25. I was somewhere about halfway through my day.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Camino left the village via a well mowed grass road past a roadside cross. This soon became a smooth dirt road, then asphalt, which took me into and then through the storybook hamlet of Bost Las Mangeas. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

There was a building here that looks like it might have been a church or even a priory at one point, but it has been partially disassembled and reassembled to make a barn and houses.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

From here, I could not figure out the Camino route. The one marker I found seemed to point down somebody’s driveway. Miraculously, the GPS helped and I was able to find the route behind<\/em> the driveway.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This was a grass path beside a small pond. It eventually became another lovely dirt path into the woods, at least briefly. At 11:45, the path dumped me on the shoulder of a large, busy divided highway through a cluster of buildings around what used to be a train station. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

There was a soft shoulder of close-cut grass to walk on, but the cars were moving pretty fast at what I imagined to be my elbow. Fortunately, after only about half a kilometer, the Camino left the highway in favor of an asphalt road through open country. I very quickly put up the umbrella.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Just before noon, I passed a sign announcing the village of Laubaudie, though it appears on none of my maps. There were indeed a scattering of houses for a long way as I walked, but nothing that would suggest a church or even a village center.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

There was some new construction underway, so perhaps this is a new community.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

From here, the Camino turned off onto a dusty dirt road that might once have been gravel. The ambient temperature definitely cooled down as I left the asphalt.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Now that the reroute had ended, I noticed that the signage had once again deteriorated, and I had to consult the GPS at many intersections.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At about 12:15, I entered the village of Crouzeix, which had a very suburban feel to it. I suppose this is to be expected, as my destination today is the city of Limoges. With a population of over 190,000 people, it is by far the largest city on this route.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Although I was in the shade thanks to my umbrella, the asphalt itself was brutally warm. At some point Crouzeix became Le Petit Crouzeix. The yards around the houses gradually became bigger and bigger, until eventually I was roadwalking through open countryside again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I passed through the little hamlet of Le Moulin de Ch\u00e2tenet at perhaps 12:35 or so. There were a lot of cars zooming down this road, and I was very glad when the Camino left it for what was obviously a newly-built pedestrian and bicycle path beside it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Eventually the path crossed the road and struck out through the countryside. This whole section of path is new this year. My hat’s off to the locals; it is truly is a wonderful surface to walk on.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This soon deposited me in a residential neighborhood of the bustling town of Feytiat. I think this is the first time I’ve seen blocks of flats since I left Paris.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Despite the sun, I took down the umbrella. It can impede my vision in a way that’s not helpful in urban environments.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It’s just about 1 PM, I walked up to the 12th-century church of Saint-L\u00e9ger-et-Saint-Clair and saw Philippe and another pilgrim resting in the shade of a porch. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The church itself is small and homey. The stained glass windows all appear to be from the 20th century, and some of them are quite beautiful. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

There was a cabinet of relics in one of the side chapels that took my breath away. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

After my visit, I joined Philippe and Thomas from Germany (and his dog Sina) on the shaded church porch and ate my lunch. They both had a head-start on me and so left before I did.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Thomas and Sima are mostly camping, and he’s pulling a trolley with the camping gear.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I finally left just past 1:45. Now it was a long suburban and urban slog into the heart of the old city. I was staying at the diocesan g\u00eete, which is actually just before you cross the river into the old medieval city.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At 2:05, Feytiat became Cr\u00e9zin with only a brief green belt interruption in the urban fabric.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I watched Philippe get on a bus. The rains are coming, at least according to the forecasts, and he does not have a rain cover for his pack. So he’s taking a bus to Decathlon, which is a giant sporting good store, to see what he can pick up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Once again, I transitioned from one suburb to another, this time from Cr\u00e9zin to Le Ponteix. Once again there was a green belt separating the two, though much smaller \u2013 it was more like a big field than anything else.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This place was mostly car and tractor lots, and some light industrial buildings. The sidewalk was now a bit of a dirt ditch running alongside the highway.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I crested a hill and saw the great city of Limoges laid out before me, seemingly from horizon to horizon. I could easily pick out the distinctive spire of the cathedral, and beyond it and to the left the spire of the basilica.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

After what seemed like kilometers of light industrial buildings and big box stores and used car lots, the sidewalk eventually resumed. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I left Le Ponteix at a huge roundabout which was more like a small park. And it was only then that I realized that I had missed a turn. The Camino markers had been so clear going through the suburbs, right until they weren’t.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

So I had to backtrack a couple of hundred meters, past a furniture outlet, past a couple of used car lots, following the GPS. Meanwhile, my phone was running out of battery and my external charger wasn’t doing so great either. It’s always something.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Even with the GPS, I had to hunt around through a tangle of streets and parking lots to find the Camino. It was 2:40 before I was back on the proper route. And that’s when I ran out of water.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Camino was now out of the urban environment and running on a dirt track through the trees behind some warehouses. I was grateful for the shade.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I passed a father and son riding dirt bikes up the hill that I was going down. Poor kid looked exhausted.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I got to the bottom of the hill and saw a Camino marker that guided me onto an asphalt road through a forested parkland and into a suburban neighborhood. While most of the houses were modern, there were the occasional weird throwbacks to the 19th century, as well as the occasional fantasy ch\u00e2teau.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The whole place had the feel of an old Hollywood back lot.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Finally I turned onto a busy street that passed over the freeway on a bridge. Although I had not seen a sign for the city, I was pretty certain I was in it now. Towering housing blocks. Four- and six-story buildings lining the street. Hundreds of cars. Billboards advertising Burger King.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

After the last several weeks, it was a bit of a culture shock. At this point, I switched from the GPS to Google Maps to help find the diocesan g\u00eete.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I eventually turned off into an older part of the city, an urban neighbourhood. It was 3:20 as I sat down at the reception desk and started guzzling cold water. I ended up drinking almost a liter.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was more than half an hour later before they found the key to open my room. I’m in a tiny room that looks suspiciously like a monastic cell. It’s perfect.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

After my shower, I rested a bit and posted yesterday’s blog post. Limoges has 5G, who knew?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

By 5 PM or so I was feeling human enough to make the walk across the river to see the cathedral. I have to say, though, I have a pretty amazing view of the cathedral from my window.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I crossed the River Vienne for (possibly) the third time today, this time on a bridge with four lanes of traffic and a broad sidewalk.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was 5:30 by the time I made it to the cathedral, and the doors were set to close in 30 minutes. It has one of the most distinctive and unusual steeples I’ve ever seen.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The narthex by itself is more spectacular than most churches. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I briefly saw Philippe in the cathedral \u2013 he was leaving as I was coming in. He’d managed to purchase his rain gear and stop by the cathedral before even going to his g\u00eete.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It would take hours to do more than just scratch the surface of this cathedral. I spent half my time just taking photos. But in the end, I returned to the chapel of the Virgin with the statue of the black Madonna and prayed there, lighting a candle for Francine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I started to record a video, but apparently it was already past closing time. A very understanding, but stern, fellow showed me out. He actually had to unlock the doors to do so, as he’d already closed everything up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Afterwards I sat in the cathedral gardens for a while, just trying to absorb what I’d seen.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Then I met up with Philippe, and we dashed over to the Basilica of Saint-Michel-des-Lions. Again, we only had a short time before it closed, but it was absolutely worth it. This place is a little jewelbox with it gorgeous stained glass and marble everywhere.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It contains the tomb of Saint Martial, the “apostle of Aquitaine”, a late third-century saint who was the first bishop here, as well as the relics of Saint Loup (the second bishop) and Saint Val\u00e9rie (a friend of Saint Martial who was martyred). I prayed before the remains of these Saints, and it was \u2013 I use the word “astonishing” way too often, but it was an astonishing experience.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The original high altar of the basilica is over Saint Martial’s tomb, and it is an evocative piece of sculpture, showing the Saint sleeping and awaiting the final judgment.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Just the physicality of being there and praying was amazing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But then, it was closing and we had to go.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We then went down the block to look at Cour du Temple, a Renaissance-era townhouse. It’s a fascinating structure, and still in use.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Dinner was notable primarily for a revelation. All french fries should be cooked in duck fat. That is all.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

There is so much to see in the city, I regret only spending one afternoon here. I could spend a week.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Date:<\/strong> 27 April 2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n