{"id":20723,"date":"2026-04-28T12:30:00","date_gmt":"2026-04-28T19:30:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.thomryng.com\/camino\/?p=20723"},"modified":"2026-04-30T05:13:18","modified_gmt":"2026-04-30T12:13:18","slug":"via-lemovicensis-a-year-in-a-day","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.thomryng.com\/camino\/via-lemovicensis-a-year-in-a-day\/","title":{"rendered":"Via Lemovicensis: a Year in a Day"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

D<\/span>idn’t sleep well last night, so it was already after 7:30 when I left. A long day today. It was cold and overcast when I left. The forecast called for rain this afternoon, and I could well believe it. I anticipated that most of today will involve walking out of Limoges and it suburbs.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

After a bit of a false start, I soon found the Camino route through the city. It took a much more pleasant footbridge over the river than the busy highway bridge I had used yesterday. It’s called Pont Saint-Etienne. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Camino then took me up a crazy steep side street to the cathedral. It was a much more scenic route than the one I had taken yesterday, lined with tall, narrow, half-timbered  buildings.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Camino wound through a medieval maze of streets and alleys, and I got turned around more than once. There were alleys here with the stairs. I ended up coming up the hill behind the cathedral. The bells struck eight as I passed the cathedral. I was really not moving quickly this morning.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It probably didn’t help that I kept stopping to take photos<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My major goal before I left the city was to find someplace for breakfast. I passed any number of caf\u00e9s and cr\u00eaperies, but not one of them were open. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

And then I smelled it. Freshly baked bread. I found the place and stocked up. No coffee, sadly, but definitely croissants, and a baguette for later.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As I continued, I passed numerous churches, all closed this early in the morning. Every little alley I passed was lined with shops. I found a likely looking bench for breakfast, and was immediately surrounded by hopeful pigeons.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As I continued, the route took me down familiar streets, and I came to the basilica sometime around 8:30. It was actually open, so I popped in for a quick prayer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And it was as I was leaving the basilica that I saw an open caf\u00e9. I immediately popped in for some coffee. The decor of this place was just delightful. They had clocks everywhere, and not one of them showed the correct, or even the same, time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Thus fortified, I set out again. It was slow going. I was fighting traffic, traffic lights, and pedestrians now, including an increasing number of school children on their way to class. The Camino markers were shells embedded in the sidewalk, which are beautiful but difficult to see if you’re more than three or four meters from them. I constantly had the GPS on.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A year ago today, we announced Francine’s diagnosis. We had, at this point, known about it for perhaps a day and a half. We told family yesterday, and Francine and I put together and executed a communications plan to let various friends and extended family know. Then today, we posted it publicly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She was going to die. And we knew it. And sooner rather than later.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Here’s what I said about it at the time:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We will face the future together in love walking eyes open as much as we can forward. But Saturday was the day we learned that Francine would probably never be coming home.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And she never did.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

These anniversaries weigh heavily on my heart, and I continue to be grateful for all of those who have lifted me up in prayer and in kindness.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As the Camino zigzagged through the city of Limoges, the shell markers became more inconsistent. I was almost entirely reliant on the GPS now. I could almost see the battery draining.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My own battery was draining pretty quickly, too. Standing at a red light in Camino gear and pack is surprisingly exhausting. I had long since left the charming medieval center of the city. My view now tended to be giant soulless concrete blocks of apartments. Occasionally, though, there would be some sort of crazy medieval ch\u00e2teau across the street from them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Even with the GPS, I managed to miss a turn or two. It was almost 9:30 before I saw my first proper Camino marker other than the sidewalk shells. I was already wiped out, and my phone was down to 64%.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I was gripping my hiking poles so tightly that my hands were starting to cramp. Even though the air was cold, I was bathed in sweat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As I walked the sidewalk through a highway interchange, I saw the first large green area of the day that wasn’t a manicured park.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At one point the markers deviated radically from the GPS, probably to avoid me crossing a freeway onramp. The markers took me as far as a bus stop and then just sort of ended. I wandered around the area for a while, and by process of elimination figured out the direction to go. And then, lo and behold, the markers reappeared.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When I finally saw a sign indicating that I was leaving Limoges and entering the suburb of Isle, it was a relief to leave the city behind. It was 9:45, and it had taken me more than two hours to walk out of the city and into the suburbs.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But as I have discovered over the last year, getting through one difficult thing does not necessarily mean that easy days are coming. I found a park bench, took off my pack, pulled out a semi-smashed pan au chocolat for second breakfast, and plugged my phone into the charger.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I stayed on that bench entirely too long, but it was difficult to get myself moving again. I’d hardly done anything, but I was fatigued physically, mentally, emotionally.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But I had a long way yet to go, so at about 10:10, I finally roused myself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The suburbs were a blur. At one point there was a big park with a duck pond. It’s like I was zombie powerwalking. The only thing I could really see was the sidewalk \u2013 it’s color and texture changing as I walked through various neighborhoods \u2013 and the occasional Camino blaze.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Suddenly, the sidewalk ended. I realized that I was now in the open countryside with little clusters of suburban houses. In a mild panic, I pulled out my phone to check the GPS. I was still on the Camino.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I crossed the street to walk on a beautifully smooth and broad hiking and bike trail, similar to the one I took into the city. I was now in a little suburb\/village called Croix du Thay. The name would have made Francine laugh, for reasons related to writing I did long ago and now too complicated to explain.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was here that the Camino returned briefly to a sidewalk, before resuming on the trail. Soon the houses had vanished completely.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I took off my fleece at a handy bench at 10:55. There was a small cut on my left forearm with dried blood. I don’t recall how or when I got it. A cyclist whizzed by.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As I walked on, sometimes in the distance I could briefly glimpse a pilgrim far ahead of me. The path briefly left the roadside to wind its way through the tiny hamlet of Bosgillier<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I entered the village of M\u00e9rignac at about 11:10. This is where I passed the pilgrim who had been ahead of me, a German lady who stopped to take photos even more often than I did. I actually passed her twice, since poor signage sent us both down the same long blind driveway.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Although this seemed to be a large village, I never saw a church, much less a commercial center.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The way out of the village was a gravel path that eventually merged with a gravel road near, of all things, a turkey farm. Inevitably, the Camino merged onto an asphalt road and headed out for the open countryside.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Here I met a pilgrim of an entirely different sort, a cheerful young French lady walking the road to the next village using crutches.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sometime past 11:30, I walked through the suburban hamlet of Clos Saint-G\u00e9rald, and then on a bridge across the River Aurence into the village (neighbourhood?) of La Roche. It was back on the sidewalk for me again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Camino took me past a decrepit abandoned train station as well as the slightly grander train station right next to it. I’d love to know what the story here is.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Camino passed under a railroad viaduct and then on a bridge across the River Vienne (again!) into the town of Aixe-sur-Vienne. The Camino wound steeply up through this hill town past a school where hordes of schoolchildren were flooding into the street, presumably heading to lunch.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was noon when I arrived at the 13th century \u00c9glise Sainte-Croix. Like the Basilica of Saint-Michel-des-Lions in Limoges, this was built on a square plan, and in this case originally to house a fragment of the True Cross. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I think it was a beautiful place, once. Unfortunately, a series of modernizations in the late 19th and mid 20th centuries has completely destroyed the original character of the building. It’s now a church in the round, and the sanctuary has been moved into what was once one of the aisles.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And the less said about the bargain-basement Dalek that serves as the tabernacle, the better. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Nevertheless, I prayed here in His presence before continuing on my Way. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Shortly after I left the church, I saw two pilgrims ahead of me on the way.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As I walked, the village quickly transformed into a suburban neighbourhood. I was not moving nearly as fast as I had earlier.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Soon enough, I was in a one lane asphalt road heading into the French countryside.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I passed through a string of interchangeable little hamlets as the afternoon wore on: Laberie, Moulin Moreau (where there was no mill), Moulin David (where there was the remains of a mill). This is about where I caught up with the two French pilgrims. Last year they walked V\u00e9zelay to Limoges, and today they began walking from Limoges. This year they plan to walk to Saint Jean.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They are on a mission to walk all four major Camino routes in France, and I believe this is their last.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The road now followed the course of a small river on our left, while forest stretched away to the right.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We passed through the tiny hamlet of Masneuf at about 12:45. About ten minutes later, we went through Moulin Japaud, which, although it had much larger buildings than most of the places I’d passed through, again had no mill.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Gradually, the road left the river, and gradually my new friends fell further and further behind. At about 1 PM, the road returned to the river and crossed over it before leaving it behind for good.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The promised rain meanwhile was nowhere to be found.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Now it was simple roadwalking through the forest. About 1:15, I entered the village of Le Breuil, a mixture of the rustic French country and the modern suburban. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The tree cover was becoming sparse now. The high, thin clouds did a little to stop the beating of the sun. if this is central France in April, what will May be like? And June in Spain?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I met up with Philippe in the little hamlet of Mardaloux, and the two French pilgrims caught up to us there while I took a moment to rest. The four of us set off together.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Just about 2 o’clock, we passed through La Judie, a tiny hamlet dominated by an 18th century ch\u00e2teau. I suspect that before the Revolution it was a manor and its outbuildings. Tiered battlements guard the approach from a bridge leading to the nearest town.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The lowest level has round, medieval-style platforms at the corners, while the higher tier is effectively a star fort.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Just across the bridge is an unusual monumental cross with clovering or hearts in the corners. I can’t remember ever seeing a design like that.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We climbed the hill into the village of Saint-Martin-le-Vieux, arriving at about 2:15. The church had a metal grill padlocked onto the door, letting you see in but not go in.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Mairie (town hall) was much more welcoming. There was a public restroom, and we were able to fill up our water reserves.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I took a late lunch in a nearby picnic area while the others kept going. It was 2:50 before I was moving again. I had really wanted to be at my final destination by now instead of 6 km from it, but there was no help for it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was windier than it had been, and the air was cooler. Maybe that storm front was finally moving in.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The road soon took me back into the forest, and then the usual mix of woods and fields. There were a lot of little hamlets squeezed into those 6 km.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

First was Bord, with its strange combination of swanky and suburban homes. There were a few older stone homes here as well; many of them had clearly been restored recently, and one was in the process.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Then Les Chenilles, which seemed to be a couple of cabins around a pond.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I later saw what looked for all the world like a treehouse off to my right. I presume it’s some sort of hunting blind. Ducks? Pigeons?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Les Domarias had quite a few buildings, but all the two of them seemed abandoned.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Chasagnat was, as far as I could tell, a single building farmstead.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Camino bypassed the village of Lavignac, but I could see that it had a church and fancy lamp posts. I saw a sign there giving the distance to my destination, and I immediately started singing “it’s the 3K that never ends”.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Beausoleil was an old rambling, multifamily stone farmhouse, possibly abandoned, and a relatively new cinderblock barn, very much in use.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Fonbanoux was a g\u00eete that looks like it might have once been a priory. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Foulenoux is a fairly extensive hamlet containing everything from bourgeoisie summer homes to farm houses.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Le Pa\u00efsseix was just a continuation of Foulenoux, with fewer houses shuttered up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And Flavignac was my destination. Not originally, though. On my original spreadsheet, I planned to walk another 3.6 km today, but distance, weather, and availability of beds caused me to change my mind. This will make tomorrow slightly longer, obviously, but I’m OK with that.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I arrived in the village of Flavignac at 3:55, by which time I had very nearly caught up with Philippe.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

After a quick trip to the Mairie to register, we were in the tiny g\u00eete, which we are sharing with the French pilgrims, at 4:20. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Shortly thereafter, I decided to go and visit the church, which was literally across the street from the g\u00eete.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The 15th-century \u00c9glise de l’Assomption-de-la-Tr\u00e8s-Sainte-Vierge (Church of the Assumption of the Most Holy Virgin) stands on the site of a earlier 9th-century church.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The sanctuary is sumptuous in green and (fake) gold and marbling. I prayed here a while and lit a candle for Francine. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I’m glad I went when I did, because at 6:50 a little old lady came and kicked me out and locked all the doors.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Dinner with five pilgrims (and a dog) at the only restaurant in town. It was the first Spanish-style Peregrino menu that I’ve had in France this trip. Absolutely wonderful.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tomorrow is another long day, though it will be followed by two fairly short days to balance things out.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Date:<\/strong> 28 April 2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n