Thursday 8 August 2013

2013 Tour - Jour 14

Limoges

The forecast was for light cloud and sunny intervals and mid-twenties centigrade, perfect cycling weather for a day trip to Limoges, site of a splendid gothic cathedral St Etienne where Richard the Lionheart was invested as Duke of Aquitaine in 1169. Well, it only rained a bit on the way out, nothing to trouble hardened Devonian randonneurs. However, it transpired that Limoges is protected by the 21st century equivalent of curtain wall defences, a.k.a a motorway and various ring-roads. Travelling the 10 km from the outskirts to the centre took as long as the previous 30 km along the Vienne river. Luckily, we intersected a cycle path - actually some pictures of bikes with arrows painted on the road at 30 m intervals - which the municipal authorities had clearly deemed necessary in order to guide non-motorised traffic into the city centre. Eventually we got to the centre ville which, alas, turned out to be rather underwhelming. The expected medieval city centre around the cathedral turned out to be no larger than the Barbican in Plymouth, and the city planners had clearly had it in for the place judging by the blocks of concrete flats dotted around the old quarter and practically next door to the cathedral. Oh well, it's not the first and only place to have been so treated. . .

So we visited the cathedral: flying buttresses - tick; vaulted ceiling - tick; stained glass windows - tick; side chapels for the various saints - tick; a magnificent organ - tick . . . you may have guessed by now that it was similar to other cathedrals. I noted that the votive candles were €1 for a small and €2 for a large - I presume the large carried 'extra blessing' mixed in with the wax, otherwise Trading Standards should be informed . . .

On the plus side, we did have an excellent lunch of steak and chips.

We returned along the same marked cycleway, all the time eyeing the evil storm-clouds gathering in the south, and congratulated ourselves on having reached the river then turning away from the evident downpour on the horizon - tweaking the weather's nose if you will. I should have known better because, just as we hit the outskirts of St Junien, the weather decided to divest it's nose of a barrel-full of snot . . .

So, the scorching heat of the previous days has given way to a typical British Summer.

Bon soir

 

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