{"id":20857,"date":"2026-05-02T13:20:26","date_gmt":"2026-05-02T20:20:26","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.thomryng.com\/camino\/?p=20857"},"modified":"2026-05-02T13:20:27","modified_gmt":"2026-05-02T20:20:27","slug":"via-lemovicensis-partings","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.thomryng.com\/camino\/via-lemovicensis-partings\/","title":{"rendered":"Via Lemovicensis: Partings"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

T<\/span>he advantage to having experienced pilgrims as hospital errors is that they understand intimately the needs and desires of pilgrims. Case in point: breakfast began at 6 AM today, and despite the usual conversations and packing up, I was out the door at 7:30 sharp.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And I wasn’t even the first one out. Philippe at least was out the door before I was. The Camino left the village through a lovely park with picnic tables and an odd stone building shipped like a turret before heading out on a narrow asphalt road into the countryside. Soon enough, it was gravel, dirt, and grass.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The air was cold, and the sky full of white fluffy clouds.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

There would be no villages today, indeed no support of any kind, until I reached the city of P\u00e9rigueux.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Today is the anniversary of Francine’s final reconciliation with her sister. They spoke by video, and I believe it was the last conversation she ever had electronically.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Francine’s sister has had some mental health challenges. The first email she ever sent me when I was first dating Francine began with the sentence, “go to hell”. It didn’t really get better from there. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Over the years she has accused me of the most heinous things. She regularly leaves abusive and threatening comments on the blog, always stopping just short of death threats, none of which I have published. She is in fact the reason that all comments are screened.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She has accused me of being a drug dealer, a pimp, poisoning her family against her, stealing assorted things from her or her family including jewelry, clothing, a Bible, even ashes. Anyone who actually knows me will tell you how ludicrous this all sounds.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And I’m just the in-law, so you can imagine the things she’s said to her sister.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Nevertheless, Francine thought it important \u2013 vital, even \u2013 to reconcile with her sister before her death. And she did.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Of all the things Francine has accomplished in her life, I think this was probably one of the most difficult and important. Her last words to her sister were, “I love you”.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

By 8 o’clock, my shoes were already soaked through from walking in the long grass.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Shortly thereafter, I walked through a small unnamed hamlet, and it was back to the asphalt.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Just before 8:30, as I passed through another unnamed farming hamlet, the Camino turned onto a road called Chemin de Vezelay. And here I thought that was the road I had been on the whole time!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This particular way soon became a road of dirt and stone and grass. Through the enclosing forest, wild and unkempt, I walked beside a low stone wall, rough and unmortared and now covered in moss and ivy, its builders unremembered. In the distance I could hear the insistent chant of a cuckoo.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Amidst this timeless beauty, I walk with the Lord. Everything is loss; only in Christ is there any gain.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sometime before 9 o’clock, the Camino returned to asphalt as I passed by the suburban hamlet of Fontnovias. I removed my fleece at an old well. I could see three of the French pilgrims slowly catching up behind me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Camino left the hamlet on a road of mowed grass, which soon enough became a dirt path into the forest once more.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Today is Philippe’s last day on Camino this year. He will take a train home from P\u00e9rigueux. He started his Camino many years ago at his front door in Belgium. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

This year was his longest walk yet, and next year he plans to walk from P\u00e9rigueux all the way into Spain, possibly Pamplona. The following year, he plans to complete his Camino in Santiago.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I will miss him. He has been a good traveling companion and a good friend.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I know it shouldn’t surprise me after all this time, but I’m amazed at the depth of connections you can form in just a few days or weeks walking together. Rarely can we do this in the “real” world.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The forest path now crossed multiple old stone walls. More heaps than walls, in some cases. Interestingly, several times during the stretch I passed posted signs indicating that this land, or parts of it, were for sale.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

These were homes and farms once, and now they are woodland. It’s pretty clear there’s a lot more people used to live in this region than do now. I felt like I was going to run into Strider at any moment, or perhaps four hobbits heading for Bree.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Within a kilometer or so, the Camino was now running on a deeply rutted farm road between the tree line and cropland. I was not aware that Farmer Maggot drove a tractor. Soon enough, the Camino cut through the fields and back under the cover of the trees.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At about 9:20, I entered a national forest, For\u00eat Domaniale de Lanmary. I was almost run down by cyclist speeding down the hill towards me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Here there were no ruined stone walls, no “for sale” signs. Just a cruisey path through unimaginable beauty.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

On this day exactly ten years ago, Francine and I walked into Santiago for the second time together. It was the longest Camino we had walked together, starting from Saint-Jean.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We had planned many other adventures together including additional pilgrimages and Camino routes. We even did several of them, sometimes with friends, but this was and remains forever the longest one.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At no point did it occur to me or her that this would be the case.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The pilgrimage I am walking now from V\u00e9zelay was meant to be a sequel of sorts. We didn’t expect to be able to do it all in one go, though.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Eventually, the path joined a forest road, broad and well maintained, of packed earth with occasional sections of stone and gravel.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At about 9:40, the forest road passed what appeared to be an abandoned hamlet, and the road descended steeply on an unmaintained patchwork of asphalt before leveling out.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Camino crossed a highway, and across a break in the trees I saw Ch\u00e2teau de Lanmary in the distance. This was once the home of the family that owned this forest. It is now a medical center.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The forest road continued on the other side, now back to the more comfortable packed earth and gravel.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Following a roadside monument, there was a sign indicating the hamlet of Chauveyrou. So far as I can tell, this consists of a picnic shelter and an abandoned and overgrown cottage. From here, the Camino followed what was ostensibly a dirt road, but really a path.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tiny white blossoms fell from the trees on me as I walked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Just after 10 AM, I passed through a campground. It was set up with dozens of timber-framed canvas tents the size of cottages. They were on timber foundations, and most of them had a little decks of wood. On the map, this is indicated as Huttopia Lanmary. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The facilities here also appear to include a large permanent outdoor kitchen, restroom and shower facilities, and a water tank. Pretty swank for camping. I eyed the picnic tables as I passed, but it was entirely too early yet for lunch.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It’s about 10:15, the Camino forest road ran along what must have once been an imposing stone wall. There is supposed to be another ch\u00e2teau somewhere around here, and I wonder if it was once a boundary wall for its lands.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Once more, I could hear the three Frenchman chattering behind me. As slow as I’ve been going this morning, it’s a wonder they hadn’t caught up and passed me yet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Soon I noticed that the deciduous forest had been largely replaced by a coniferous one. A very different feeling while walking through. The forest floor was covered in ferns.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

By 10:30, I passed the one bit of private property marked in the forest so far: Ch\u00e2teau de Caussade. It really does look a proper stone castle. Built in the 12th century and expanded in the 17th, it served as a prisoner of war camp during the first world war.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was here that my three French friends caught up with me while I was taking photos. I left them behind again as they were taking theirs.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

About 10:40 AM, the road transitioned into asphalt. I met a very loud, talkative Belgian hiker going the other direction who encouraged me to keep going. It was exactly the sort of pick up I needed. She also mentioned that Philippe was resting somewhere  up ahead.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Had he found a caf\u00e9 in the middle of the forest? I soon passed some houses under construction to my left. I sensed a hamlet was imminent.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I soon began passing some very expensive looking houses, all appearing to be relatively new construction, tucked in among the trees.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Camino soon crossed another highway, and I saw a sign for the hamlet of La Grande Mare. I was apparently leaving there, however, as I was once again on a dirt road through the forest. I never did see a caf\u00e9.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

One thing that struck me as I walked was that I saw a very few old trees in these woods. This is a young forest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As the road grew rougher, I passed hikers, joggers, and cyclists going in the other direction. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Finally at about 11 AM, I caught up with Philippe sitting on a log eating his lunch. I quickly joined him. Our three French friends stopped by and then walked on ahead of us. We left our log about 11:30. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Philippe and I were passed by a young kid riding a motorcycle just as we were entering a section of the forest entirely given over to oak trees. The quality of the light there is unlike anything else, an almost glowing golden-green<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At about 11:50, we left the forest briefly to walk through the back end of the suburban hamlet of La Chaumardie. And then it was road walking next to a busy two-lane highway.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Here, the signage on the ground and the GPS diverged radically. The GPS would have us follow the highway for another kilometer or so, whereas the signs led us to a slightly longer, more rural route.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We chose the rural route. Still roadwalking, and beginning with a very steep uphill, but less hairy than the highway.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The suburb soon gave away to forest walking once more on a dirt and gravel road. This was no longer a National Forest, though, as there were private property signs everywhere.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At one point, we passed a field that to my untrained eyes appeared to be thick with wheat and daisies. This was about when I felt the first tentative drops of rain, but soon enough we were under tree cover again and I thought no more about it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

About 12:30, we moved out of full tree cover into the suburban landscape once again. Now the pack covers went on. We walked on asphalt through a collection of what might have been villages once but were now suburbs of the city of P\u00e9rigueux. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

For perhaps a kilometer or so we followed a “green tunnel” of path and trees through the suburbs. If you didn’t look more than 100 meters or so off the path, you might think you were still in the forest. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

By a little after 1 PM, though, we were back among the houses.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And then back into another green tunnel. Except this one seems like it was an actual forest. No matter which direction you looked, you could not see anything beyond the trees. It was beautiful as the trees arced overhead like Gothic arches of some emerald cathedral.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Eventually, of course, we emerged into the semi-rural suburbia again. At about 1:20 we passed the largest cemetery I have ever seen in terms of density of graves and monuments. They rolled up the hillside like buildings. The word that immediately occurred to me was necropolis: this is truly a city of the dead.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

After this, urban density had sufficiently grown to provide a sidewalk.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We finally entered the city proper at about 1:35. This is also where the blocks of flats began. The city definitely got prettier as we went.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was twenty minutes before we entered the old medieval center, and the transformation was complete. Narrow streets, lined with shops and a crazy quilt of stone and half timbered upper floors crowding in.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We picked a likely terrace and had a celebratory beer at 2 PM. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

By 2:25, we were in front of the cathedral of Saint Front. I have never seen a building like this before. Renaissance? Romanesque? Byzantine? Yes!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The cathedral is named after the saint who first evangelized this territory in the third century, Saint Front, who was also the city’s first bishop.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

P\u00e9rigueux was captured by Calvinists on August 6, 1575, and then pillaged and occupied. The relics of Saint Front were stolen and thrown into the Dordogne River. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

There has been a church on the cathedral site since at least the fourth century. This original building was largely destroyed by Viking raiders in the ninth century. The current building dates predominantly to the 10th and 11th centuries, with many, many additions and changes in the centuries since then, particularly since the religious wars of the 16th century.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This place is a true wonder. I took as many photos as I possibly could, but it’s impossible for the camera to capture the size of this place. Its proportions and architecture are a weird amalgamation, but somehow the entire thing comes together in a certain serene immensity.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In the immensity of this sacred place, I was inexplicably drawn to a little cubby off to one side of one of the many side altars. This contained a small statue of Saint Front. It seemed tiny and out of place amongst all the magnificence. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was here that I prayed for Francine and lit a candle for her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Then we wandered around the medieval city center for a while. I could absolutely live in this city. The narrow little streets, the people, the caf\u00e9s, the shops, a city that feels alive and full of people.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Then it was to the train station for Philippe to get his ticket home. We had some time after that, so we had a farewell beer and a heartfelt conversation before bidding each other adieu. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The g\u00eete was not very far from the train station. I’m in a tiny room with three beds, but only one roommate, Harvey from Brittany.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My French friends are here as well, in another room. I saw Louis-Marie right after I checked in.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Then a short rest, followed by a shower and laundry. I returned to the city center for some dinner with a pile of pilgrims. It was absolutely glorious out on the terrace, even when the rain started pouring down.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Date:<\/strong> 02 May 2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n