There were no trains going north with space for bikes, or so I was told by the nice young lady at the ticket counter. Because August 15th is a holiday in France , the number of trains was limited anyway. So I took the option of getting at least part way home by getting a train to Montluçon, which meant a three hour layover in Limoges. The train to Limoges didn't leave until 12:30, so I whiled away the time in my hotel room working on this journal, and then in the gare reading a newspaper. Seating inside the station building is limited, so I ended up on the platform sheltering from the rain. Finally leaving, the train ride through the hills north of Brive was uneventful, and Limoges proved to be free of the rain that was falling in the Correze. I rode my bike around the city for a while, but on this holiday afternoon all the stores were closed, and I didn’t need to eat so I gave a pass to the restaurants. 

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Getting on the train to Montluçon I noticed that I was not the only cyclist boarding. There was a couple from the Savoie who were also trying to get home. They would be taking trains onward from Montluçon via Lyon on their journey, but like me needed to stay overnight waiting for the next train. The ride was long, but uneventful. Most of the passengers got off at Gueret, and those that’s stayed on went all the way. The small towns we passed through are becoming depopulated, and even though there is train service, the usage is slight. In Montluçon I checked into the same hotel I had stayed at in June, and after changing and cleaning up I set out looking for supper.

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Supper in Montlucon turned out to be a simple affaira: tomatoes with mozzarella, grilled andouillette and peach tart for dessert. 

I woke very early in the morning, and so without rushing I got to the railway station by eight. A train was leaving for Bourges at 8:21, and so I got a through ticket for Dijon and got on. From Bourges there was a connection to Nevers leaving in ten minutes of my arrival, and despite it being quite full, I managed to squeeze my bike on and rode the one stop to that city holding the bike up to prevent it from blocking the aisle or falling over. In Nevers, I had a little over an hour to wait for a Dijon bound train and I used the time to get a sandwich to take on the trip. And then the train left and before I had planned it I was in Dijon. The ride home took all of forty minutes and I arrived at my front door at 2:30 in the afternoon.