{"id":21102,"date":"2026-05-08T12:24:54","date_gmt":"2026-05-08T19:24:54","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.thomryng.com\/camino\/?p=21102"},"modified":"2026-05-08T21:50:50","modified_gmt":"2026-05-09T04:50:50","slug":"via-lemovicensis-victoire","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.thomryng.com\/camino\/via-lemovicensis-victoire\/","title":{"rendered":"Via Lemovicensis: Victoire!"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

T<\/span>oday was a public holiday in France. On this day in 1945, Germany unconditionally surrendered, ending World War II in Europe. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Four years ago today, Francine and I were in Oviedo with our friend Callie, getting ready to begin the Camino Primitivo the next day. It would prove to be the last Camino we walked together.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

One year ago today, Francine and I were in her hospital room watching the announcement of the election of Pope Leo XIV. It was the first television that she had seen since her hospitalization, and the last she would ever see.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We did this cautiously, and our friend Sara, a nurse, was in the room with us. There was a concern that flashing images would trigger Francine’s paranoia. However, she was fine for the ten or 15 minutes we had it on. Leo was the seventh pope of her lifetime.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

After procuring a couple of chocolatines, I left the g\u00eete ahead of the others, at about 7:50. The morning was warmer than it had been in a while, and the forecast was calling for sun. Already, there was very little in the way of cloud cover.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Although today would be a long day, there wasn’t much in the way of support. I was carrying a lot of weight in food and water.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As I left the village, I reflected on how impressed I was with their dedication to the Camino. I don’t think I’ve ever seen quite so many signs or notices for pilgrims along this route.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Before 8 o’clock, I was already out in the countryside of woods and open fields. And my shoes were dry.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Within five minutes, I had already made a wrong turn and wandered a few hundred meters in the wrong direction. It was going to be one of those days.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I got back to the missed turn, and discovered that the sign was completely overgrown with bushes. The book said today was a 27.2 km day. I guessed it would be closer to 33, and if this kept up it could be much longer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Camino turned down a trail through the long grass. So much for dry shoes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

By about 8:30, I was walking once more through the vineyards of France on an asphalt road. My shoes made squishing noises as I walked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Twenty minutes later, the Camino turned back into the grass. I took the opportunity to remove my fleece as it was already getting warm. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

As I walked between an open meadow and the trees, I was absolutely surrounded by clouds of orange butterflies. I tried to get photos, but of course it was impossible.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Today I also learned that tall grass can camouflage entire ankle-deep puddles.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At about 9:10, the Camino entered the forest on a muddy path filled with deer tracks. In the distance, I could hear the report of one of those automated air guns, designed to keep birds and other animals away from the crops. I wonder if this one was for the deer that seems so plentiful here?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At about 9:20, the Camino emerged onto a rural asphalt road. About five minutes later, I found a convenient bench \u2013 really, I think it was an old millstone \u2013 and sat down very briefly for a second breakfast.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

After that, it was back to asphalt through the vineyards. I passed through a tiny hamlet called Vachellot and another called Chollet before I arrived at the village of Saint-Ferme at about 9:40.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Camino doesn’t actually enter this village, but I did. I wanted to see the old abbey church of Saint-Ferme. The monastic history of this place is fascinating to me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The monastic structure of this 12th century Romanesque church has been almost perfectly preserved. The only thing it’s missing are the choir stalls \u2013 although there are some remnants of those stacked up against a wall.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And the acoustics are amazing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

There used to be a rose window here, but after the fa\u00e7ade of the building was wrecked during the 17th century religious wars, it was rebuilt with more of a fortress look.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

After visiting and praying here, it was back to asphalt through the vineyards. The church bell struck ten as I was leaving the village.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Within minutes, though, the Camino turned back down a grass and dirt road. It was back to the cycle: long wet grass, followed by mud, followed by long wet grass, etc. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

If I’m honest, it was all kind of demoralizing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

By 10:20, I was walking on asphalt again, feet squishing, through the ever-present vineyards. Within about ten minutes, I started to see dry spots on the tops of my shoes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At 10:35, I passed the one-house hamlet of Gachon. I saw a dog and two hens. Otherwise, it was nothing but farm fields and vineyards around me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ten minutes later I passed through the vastly more substantial hamlet of Fougirard. This had houses, multiple barns, and a few odd buildings I couldn’t identify. There were cows in at least one of the barns \u2013 the first I’d seen in a couple of days.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

By 11:10, the Camino was descending into a valley. I could see the next village halfway up the hill on the other side.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

First I passed through the large rambling rural hamlet of Les Audeberts. There were cows in the fields here, and though none of them were close, the whole place smelled of cow and wood smoke.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I entered the village of Coutures-sur-Drot right about 11:30. I was 16.5 km down on the day, which I figured was probably about halfway. It seemed like the perfect place for lunch.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They did not seem to be any caf\u00e9s or bars in the village, so I camped out on a shaded bench in the cemetery across from the locked church. my plan had been to eat lunch out of my food stash. But just as I had removed my pack, the gates of the cemetery opened, and a small memorial parade entered. They were led by the mayor and accompanied by a flag bearer. As they laid flowers and a wreath at the little war monument in front of the church, it didn’t seem like an opportune time to have a picnic.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They concluded with the singing of La Marseillaise. As they were filing back out, Madame Mayor said something to me, which was translated by one of the younger ladies there.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They invited me to have a drink with them, to toast “Victoire!” How could I refuse? It was the mayor, nine others, some of whom I think were government or council officials and some members of a veterans organization, and me. Together we toasted to the Allied victory. Several people thanked me personally, as I am an American, although I tried to explain to them I didn’t really have much to do with it. Regardless, everyone there was so very kind to me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was definitely a surreal experience. As I was making my apologies and getting up to leave, who should pop their heads in but Louis-Marie and Luc!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They were actually looking for the public restroom attached to the Mairie (town hall) that we were in. I slipped away during the discussion and was back on the road with alacrity.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I hadn’t actually had any lunch, except for some little snacks they had there, and of course a drink. I had asked for Coca-Cola, as it seemed safest out of the options available, but apparently that meant “Coca-Cola with only a little<\/em> bit of whiskey”.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

If you are going to be an American in France, May 8 is definitely the day to do it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The church bell tolled noon as I was leaving the village. This is getting to be a habit \u2013 leaving villages on the hour.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Fifteen minutes later, I passed the massive ruins of a medieval castle. Unfortunately, they were largely obscured by the trees. The young lady in the village had told me that an American friend of hers owns and lives in the ruin.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Now I entered the village, or more likely the administrative district, of Les Basses Carri\u00e8res. Houses were scattered around a relatively wide area, with very large yards \u2013 even plowed fields \u2013 between them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

One of these sets of isolated buildings proved to be the tiny hamlet of La Miche, which appeared to have a defensive tower.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I passed through a pair of other named hamlets, both of which appeared to be at most two or three buildings: Biaud and Le Fournet. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I walked into the little village of Roquebrune at just about 12:45 PM. There wasn’t much to it. I did pop over to visit the church, but it was locked. I had hoped to get some water at the cemetery, but they are in the process of a construction project there to expand the cemetery, and the water mains were shut.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

For me, there comes a point on every Camino where I just don’t want to be there anymore. I’m tired, it’s been a difficult few days, I’m home sick, or more usually a combination of all of the above.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

For me, this started yesterday and continued through the first half of today. Usually, this only lasts a day or so. The concert last night was a singular moment of grace that lifted me out of it for a while. But the memory quickly faded.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And constantly wet shoes and mud are not good for my morale.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

On my long trek from Le Puy in 2023, this mood lasted a couple of days in the last few weeks in France, and it recurred briefly in Spain as well.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

On every previous occasion, though, I could turn to Francine for support, whether that was in person or by phone or text. Depending on what I needed, she could either be sympathetic or go into drill sergeant mode.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

These are the days when you just want to go home, but in your heart you know that going home right now is not the correct decision.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Last year, when Francine was in hospital and later hospice, I had many of the same emotions. I was done<\/em>. I just wanted to go home with Francine. There would be a miraculous cure, she would get up and we would go back to Pistachio House together.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The drink with the mayor and her community in Coutures definitely shook me out of my blues today. That’s not to say they won’t come back, but the afternoon was very different from the morning.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I think it was just the gesture, really. Here was a community in celebration inviting a complete stranger to join them. A smelly, sweaty stranger at that.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I passed through the charming little hamlet of Pelat just before 1 PM. An odd mix of buildings, from the modern to the medieval. There were clouds in the sky again, thin wispy ones, but they were enough to keep the sun at bay. A cool breeze across the vineyards and fields certainly helped.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At 1:15 I walked through the twin hamlets of Cruchit and Bigat, both of which sound like they could be characters out of Dickens.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At 1:30 after walking through a strip of farmed trees, I passed through the little hamlet of Grand Chemin. Love the name, but I’m not sure why this place merits it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Right next door is the slightly more spread out hamlet of Au Moulin. I did not see a mill here.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Just a few moments later, I walked into the village of Saint-Hilaire-de-la-Noaille. I was really hoping to find a bar or a caf\u00e9 here.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I don’t know what the official definitions of the words are in France, but a bar definitely has beer, and a caf\u00e9 definitely has coffee. Either one of them probably have both, though.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My tracker claimed at this point I had done 24.5 km so far, and I was definitely ready for a break. For those keeping track, my shoes looked mostly dry now, but they still felt damp.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was not quite 2 PM when I arrived at the church and ch\u00e2teau of Saint-Hilaire-de-la-Noaille. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

What a village this is! The ch\u00e2teau is absolutely charming, and it’s clearly being lived in and well kept. The church has definitely seen better days, but it’s got a Romanesque portico that, while heavily damaged, is out of this world. Sadly, the church was locked up tight.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I did manage to fill my water bottles, though.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I could find nothing like a caf\u00e9 or bar, but there were a couple of picnic tables in a park by the church. That’ll do.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I finally ate a late lunch out of my stash and rested a bit, before tackling the final leg at about 2:25. It was back to the asphalt, with vineyards and cropland stretching out on either side.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

After short stretch of trees, the Camino emerged in the hamlet of Au Villotte, part of the outermost ring of suburbs around the city of La R\u00e9ole. There’s plenty of new construction going on here, as the countryside is being slowly colonized by suburbia.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

For the rest of the day, even when I was ostensibly walking through farmland, even when I was under cover of trees, there was never a minute where I didn’t have a building in view.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

About 3:05 I saw the abbey spire for the first time, far down in the valley below. The descent to the river was steep in places. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I couldn’t help noticing that across the river \u2013 where I would be going over the next days and weeks \u2013 was a lot flatter than this side of the river.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I entered the city of La R\u00e9ole at approximately 3:20, and I was safely in my g\u00eete by 3:45. Today I broke 800 km in 30 days.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

By the time I had showered and started my laundry, I was joined by Michael from Ireland, who I had met yesterday.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At about 5 PM, I set out to explore central La R\u00e9ole. My first stop was the old abbey church.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

While there has been a Benedictine establishment here more or less since the year 777, this church was only built in the 18th century. The history is absolutely fascinating. By my count, the city was put under siege 16 times during the course of its history, and the entire monastic structure was rebuilt five or six times from the ground up. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

So you can understand why it’s a bit grand. The monks were making darn sure that this church wasn’t going to get knocked down like the others had been. But of course, just thirty years after they finished this church, the Revolutionary government seized it and used it for a stable. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

This is a very wide church, and the proportions don’t feel quite right. It’s like it should be 30 feet taller than it is.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It’s a Gothic revival style, and the stained glass windows are just stunning. The rose window, in particular, is beautiful. Since the church is 30 feet shorter than it should be, it’s easily seen standing on the ground in front of it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

There is some damage here, particularly in the Marian chapel, where it looks like at some point people were just randomly shooting at the altar and walls.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I prayed Vespers in the little chapel, and I lit a candle for Francine here.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I explored the old medieval city, and discovered to my delight that it was full of bookstores. I think I counted six of them just on one little stretch of street.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Of course, everything is in French! It hardly matters anyway, as none of the shops are open on a national holiday. And really, I don’t think I could carry yet another book all the way to Santiago\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I’ve also seen posters for a festival this weekend here. Sadly, I will be gone by then.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Date:<\/strong> 08 May 2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n