Dog Days in the Dordogne
Aug 17th, 2005, 03:13 PM
#81
Join Date: Jan 2003
Posts: 331
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
Look, I know you're vacationing and have better things to do (as evidenced by this absolutely enchanting report) than keep us all up to date...but, dammit, woman, you've got people Jonesin' for more out here!
Can't you just please skip the splashing in the pool, and the ping pong and the Boggle and just get back to the keyboard? Sheesh, the priorities of some people!
Can't you just please skip the splashing in the pool, and the ping pong and the Boggle and just get back to the keyboard? Sheesh, the priorities of some people!
Aug 17th, 2005, 05:08 PM
#83
Join Date: Jan 2003
Posts: 6,793
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
I think we have to wait until she gets home to read further episodes, because she's no longer "home" in the Dordogne. She should now be in Provence for a few days, and then will go to Lyon for a few days. I think she generally posts on the Internet during trips only when she's at her house in St. Cirq.
Aug 18th, 2005, 12:40 PM
#85
Join Date: Jan 2003
Posts: 1,327
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
>><i>dessert before dinner is a hallmark of our trips to France.</i>
Well then, I want to go to France with your family.
Enjoying this immensely, even if my wacked schedule means I can only read it little chunks at a time. Maybe it's better that way--gives me something to look forward to.
Well then, I want to go to France with your family.
Enjoying this immensely, even if my wacked schedule means I can only read it little chunks at a time. Maybe it's better that way--gives me something to look forward to.
Aug 18th, 2005, 05:16 PM
#87
Join Date: Jan 2003
Posts: 6,793
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
Ronda: If you really seriously want them, I think can find them for you and post the links if you go to the Francophile forum ( http://forums.delphiforums.com/PBProvence/start ) and post somewhere noticeable asking for these links. If I see your question, I'll do a superficial search and post the results as clickable links to various posts. I can't post the
links here--won't work.
Most of the trip reports except maybe the ones for the last year or so are on Francophile forum, including many that I've never read, but they are easy to find there. It's too hard to find things on Fodors because the search function is so primitive, so I won't even try.
links here--won't work.
Most of the trip reports except maybe the ones for the last year or so are on Francophile forum, including many that I've never read, but they are easy to find there. It's too hard to find things on Fodors because the search function is so primitive, so I won't even try.
Aug 18th, 2005, 08:22 PM
#88
Join Date: Jan 2003
Posts: 3,974
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
Ronda, To get all of StCirq's previous posts, just click on her name (the one in blue following "Author
quot
. You will have to scroll down through to find her previous reports done directly from the Dordogne, but you should be able to find them easily.
Enjoy!
quot. You will have to scroll down through to find her previous reports done directly from the Dordogne, but you should be able to find them easily.Enjoy!
Aug 21st, 2005, 07:20 AM
#92
Original Poster
Join Date: Jan 2003
Posts: 49,560
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
Okay, Okay, I have completely reorganized my vacation to accommodate all you pleaders and whiners 
. I'm taking an entire late afternoon off to catch you up - is that good enough??
Actually, I\m in Lyon on a freezing cold soggy Sunday, and have exhausted allthe tourist sites, have ridden the metro backwards and forwards, have stopped in as many cafes as I can handle, and am back at the hotel where my son is watching Monk in French and there's no one asking to use the free internet in the lobby. So here goes:
Monday, August 15
We've decided we're going to leave the house a day early and have an impromptu vacation before heading to Provence, so I'm up early to start cleaning and doing last-minute house stuff. Downstairs at 7:30 to take a shower. Uh oh!! Someone (and it wouldn't be me, and M's off the hook because she's gone) has left the light on inthe bathroom and the huge bathroom windows wide open. We have a Moth Museum! The floor and ceiling and four walls and shower stall and shower curtain are covered in moths - little ones, fat ones, big ones, skinny ones, pink ones, blue ones, black and white ones, and lots with little French designer patterns on them. The entire room could be shipped to the Smithsonian, like Julia Child's kitchen, and put on display. In fact I wish it would be, because turning off the light at 7 am and keeping the window open does nothing to get rid of the moths. I have to smoke ' em out! A heavy does of steam and a big spray of hot water get rid of most of them, and the rest just shower with me.
To be continued when I get a new computer code from the concierge. It's always something!
. I'm taking an entire late afternoon off to catch you up - is that good enough??Actually, I\m in Lyon on a freezing cold soggy Sunday, and have exhausted allthe tourist sites, have ridden the metro backwards and forwards, have stopped in as many cafes as I can handle, and am back at the hotel where my son is watching Monk in French and there's no one asking to use the free internet in the lobby. So here goes:
Monday, August 15
We've decided we're going to leave the house a day early and have an impromptu vacation before heading to Provence, so I'm up early to start cleaning and doing last-minute house stuff. Downstairs at 7:30 to take a shower. Uh oh!! Someone (and it wouldn't be me, and M's off the hook because she's gone) has left the light on inthe bathroom and the huge bathroom windows wide open. We have a Moth Museum! The floor and ceiling and four walls and shower stall and shower curtain are covered in moths - little ones, fat ones, big ones, skinny ones, pink ones, blue ones, black and white ones, and lots with little French designer patterns on them. The entire room could be shipped to the Smithsonian, like Julia Child's kitchen, and put on display. In fact I wish it would be, because turning off the light at 7 am and keeping the window open does nothing to get rid of the moths. I have to smoke ' em out! A heavy does of steam and a big spray of hot water get rid of most of them, and the rest just shower with me.
To be continued when I get a new computer code from the concierge. It's always something!
Aug 21st, 2005, 07:44 AM
#93
Original Poster
Join Date: Jan 2003
Posts: 49,560
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
This should be fun - I have to write in units of 17 mins, 20 seconds.....
So once the moths and I are squeaky clean I leave T sleeping and jump in the car with the idea of going into Les Eyzies to the bank, to fill up the car with gas, and to get some foie gras entier for a friends who has asked for some.
Holy crap! It's market day in Les Eyzies! I've forgotten there WAS a market in Les Eyzies, because it's only there in July and August. The one-land street is jammed, and I get clutch foot again as I wend my way slowly down it looking vainly for a parking spot. No luc, so I turn back at the roundabout, whereupon some old geezer with squeaking brakes comes up behind me and rams into the back of my car. I get out to inspect the car, but there's so much dirt on the bumper I can't tell if there's any damage. He looks completely oblivious, so I just assume my AMEX coverage will kick in if necessary and go back into town, finally finding a parking spot for 1 euro behind the Bar Alexandre.
I race through town to complete my errands and am back home in an hour's time. ENOUGH of crowds in August!
T has made a nice lunch out of leftovers, a creative one, too. He's rolled some leftover cabecou and cornichons into the last slices of ham to make finger sandwiches, and with that we have a salad, leftover bread (the line at the boulangerie in Les Eyzies was down the block, so it's stale baguette for us today), and some of that now infamous Gruyere. We'll have a choc liegeois later this afternoon.
Nothing special for the rest of the day except chores and gathering laundry to leave for Mme L and several trips to the dump. Then, as a certain nostalgia edges up on us as we realize this is our last full day here, we take the ritual walk around the village, by the chapel and the old washing basin, by the pond with the swans and mosquitoes, by the dirty cos down in the Hatfields' meadow, and back up by the Grotte de St-Cirq and the bamboo stand that marks the edge of the property. Then we have our final tanning session, final swim, final ping pong match, and final dinner of more leftovers, all with the exception of the final dinner to be repeated tomorrow when the REAL nostalgia sets in.
And then as we're settling into our reading chairs with feet up on the wall and the valley spread out below and the hawks circling lazily above as the sun melts into the horizon, the fighter jets come roaring over our heads, as they sometimes do, and our little reverie is suddenly a smashing of hands over ears, a few piercing shrieks, a puddle of spilt wine on the wall, a scattering of T's M&Ms all over the ground, and a few missed heartbeats.
After which, the sky turns violet, then indigo; then it's tar, and the planets start to glow and the spaces in between fill with stars and brush strokes of galaxies, and you could almost read by the light of the heavens. When the owls begin to screech we close up for the night and head upstairs to spend our last night with the house martens, for they're still there, even though we are leaving.
So once the moths and I are squeaky clean I leave T sleeping and jump in the car with the idea of going into Les Eyzies to the bank, to fill up the car with gas, and to get some foie gras entier for a friends who has asked for some.
Holy crap! It's market day in Les Eyzies! I've forgotten there WAS a market in Les Eyzies, because it's only there in July and August. The one-land street is jammed, and I get clutch foot again as I wend my way slowly down it looking vainly for a parking spot. No luc, so I turn back at the roundabout, whereupon some old geezer with squeaking brakes comes up behind me and rams into the back of my car. I get out to inspect the car, but there's so much dirt on the bumper I can't tell if there's any damage. He looks completely oblivious, so I just assume my AMEX coverage will kick in if necessary and go back into town, finally finding a parking spot for 1 euro behind the Bar Alexandre.
I race through town to complete my errands and am back home in an hour's time. ENOUGH of crowds in August!
T has made a nice lunch out of leftovers, a creative one, too. He's rolled some leftover cabecou and cornichons into the last slices of ham to make finger sandwiches, and with that we have a salad, leftover bread (the line at the boulangerie in Les Eyzies was down the block, so it's stale baguette for us today), and some of that now infamous Gruyere. We'll have a choc liegeois later this afternoon.
Nothing special for the rest of the day except chores and gathering laundry to leave for Mme L and several trips to the dump. Then, as a certain nostalgia edges up on us as we realize this is our last full day here, we take the ritual walk around the village, by the chapel and the old washing basin, by the pond with the swans and mosquitoes, by the dirty cos down in the Hatfields' meadow, and back up by the Grotte de St-Cirq and the bamboo stand that marks the edge of the property. Then we have our final tanning session, final swim, final ping pong match, and final dinner of more leftovers, all with the exception of the final dinner to be repeated tomorrow when the REAL nostalgia sets in.
And then as we're settling into our reading chairs with feet up on the wall and the valley spread out below and the hawks circling lazily above as the sun melts into the horizon, the fighter jets come roaring over our heads, as they sometimes do, and our little reverie is suddenly a smashing of hands over ears, a few piercing shrieks, a puddle of spilt wine on the wall, a scattering of T's M&Ms all over the ground, and a few missed heartbeats.
After which, the sky turns violet, then indigo; then it's tar, and the planets start to glow and the spaces in between fill with stars and brush strokes of galaxies, and you could almost read by the light of the heavens. When the owls begin to screech we close up for the night and head upstairs to spend our last night with the house martens, for they're still there, even though we are leaving.
Deborah
Aug 21st, 2005, 11:34 AM
#96
Original Poster
Join Date: Jan 2003
Posts: 49,560
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
So the next day, Tuesday, after doing considerable research we have a reservation at the Hotel des Chenes in Pujols, just outside Villeneuve-sur-Lot, a town I've been to a dozen times or more without realizing that there was a delightful Plus Beau Village de France just 3 ms south of it.
We say our final goodbyes to the house and to Mme L and wend our way through Le Bugue to Cadouin and then Beaumont and then Villereal, where we make a stop to enjoy its admirably thought-out bastide symmetry. The cafe we stop for a drink at is full of Brits - it's true they are moving south from the Dordogne seeking ever-cheaper properties and ever-hotter climes.
I'm terrible to listen to driving through these parts. If you were to arrive here fresh from NYC or SF you'd be in heaven. Me, I,m full of criticisms, as it's not nearly as nice as the Perigord. The landscape is barren, the towns not so welcoming, the people don't bedeck their properties with enough flowers, there aren't any rushing streams, it's just not wooded enough - there's no forest or mystery. It's pretty, to be sure, but I'm spoiled.
We arrive at Pujols around 6 pm. The Hotel de Chenes awaits us with a lovely double room with two beds as requested and a private terrace by the pool.
More in a bit when the concierge issues me another code - BOY is this tiresome!
We say our final goodbyes to the house and to Mme L and wend our way through Le Bugue to Cadouin and then Beaumont and then Villereal, where we make a stop to enjoy its admirably thought-out bastide symmetry. The cafe we stop for a drink at is full of Brits - it's true they are moving south from the Dordogne seeking ever-cheaper properties and ever-hotter climes.
I'm terrible to listen to driving through these parts. If you were to arrive here fresh from NYC or SF you'd be in heaven. Me, I,m full of criticisms, as it's not nearly as nice as the Perigord. The landscape is barren, the towns not so welcoming, the people don't bedeck their properties with enough flowers, there aren't any rushing streams, it's just not wooded enough - there's no forest or mystery. It's pretty, to be sure, but I'm spoiled.
We arrive at Pujols around 6 pm. The Hotel de Chenes awaits us with a lovely double room with two beds as requested and a private terrace by the pool.
More in a bit when the concierge issues me another code - BOY is this tiresome!
Aug 21st, 2005, 12:07 PM
#97
Original Poster
Join Date: Jan 2003
Posts: 49,560
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
The Hotel des Chenes is built into the hillside of the village perche (sorry, can't do accents on this computer)so that our bedroom is SEVEN floors down from the reception! It's worth it. We open the French doors to our patio and we have the entire valley of the Lot before us, including a commanding view of the ville de Pujols on a hillside above us - it's beautifully restored with many 14th- and 15th-century half-timbered houses and two romanesque churches, one with frescoes and the other with a fine belltower.
T goes for the pool. I go for the stack of local literature, which only tells me I have got to get my act together and get to know this part of France better. After all, it's only an hour or two from my house, but it's another world and one I've largely ignored though I've passed through it a few times. As mentioned before, I have sized it up and found it wanting compared to my favorite parts of France, but one can't ignore that Pujols is a gem and Villeneuve-sur-Lot is one large city with a lot to offer.
La Toque Blanche, an expensive local well-known restaurant, shares a parking lot with our hotel. T and I wander over there and look at the menu. The only one that seems at all interesting is 54 euros. That seems a bit out of range for a place in a tiny town like this in the middle of nowhere in SW France. So we ask the proprietor of our hotel for a recommendation, and he says forget the Toque Blanche, go into town and go to Lou Calel, a local place that serves local food - cuisine du terroir. Sounds right to me.
So T takes a swim and we dress for dinner and drive to Lou Calel. The view over Villeneueve-sur-Lot from the restaurant is outstanding, and as the meal progresses and the lights come a twinkling on in the city, it's all the more spectacular.
Our first taste is an ameuse-bouche of a tiny timbale of cous-cous with specks of zucchini and tomato with herbs and a tomato-citrus sauce. It's OK, but not something I'd jump up and down about. My first course is 3 slabs of thin foie gras with espelette and a vinaigrette on a bed of mesclun with toasts of pain de campagne. Very good. T has a terrine of leek and foie gras with a citrus sauce that's delicious. For my main course I have grilled cabillaud on a bed of grilled cabbage with lardons. T has grilled tuna with a sweet potato and orange puree (sounds better than it tastes, the puree). The cheese plate is hilarious. The young waitress who has served us our courses and who has at the end of every one said "Ca vous a plu, Madame?" comes up with a tray of cheese and begins to name the offerings - Camembert, Brie, St Marcellin, Roquefort, Cabecou......" T and I look at the cheese plate and see a tiny lump of something beige and white just past the Roquefort and look at each other and whisper " cabecou?" I look at the waitress and say " C'est un pauvvre petit morceau de cabecou, n'est-ce pas?" She doesn't respond, but because we both want cabecou and not cheeses from Normandie to finish this meal, she takes our rather frigid silence to mean that she ought to go get some more cabecou, so she awkwardly disappears then reappears with a large tray of much fresher cheeses, including some complete cabecous, which we choose and enjoy.
The entire city of Villeneuve-sur-Lot twinkles below us as we finish our meal with a strawberry shortcake and a cremolina de fraises. There is no figuring out how to get out of the parking lot without breaking the law, so we do that and go backwards against the arrows and drive up the hill to the Hotel des Chenes where a huge moon has risen over the hills. There's no AC in the hotel, but we can keep the terrace doors open during the night for air, and the beds are comfortable and there are extra pillows. We sleep well in Pujols and are glad we found this little Relais du Silence on our way southward.
T goes for the pool. I go for the stack of local literature, which only tells me I have got to get my act together and get to know this part of France better. After all, it's only an hour or two from my house, but it's another world and one I've largely ignored though I've passed through it a few times. As mentioned before, I have sized it up and found it wanting compared to my favorite parts of France, but one can't ignore that Pujols is a gem and Villeneuve-sur-Lot is one large city with a lot to offer.
La Toque Blanche, an expensive local well-known restaurant, shares a parking lot with our hotel. T and I wander over there and look at the menu. The only one that seems at all interesting is 54 euros. That seems a bit out of range for a place in a tiny town like this in the middle of nowhere in SW France. So we ask the proprietor of our hotel for a recommendation, and he says forget the Toque Blanche, go into town and go to Lou Calel, a local place that serves local food - cuisine du terroir. Sounds right to me.
So T takes a swim and we dress for dinner and drive to Lou Calel. The view over Villeneueve-sur-Lot from the restaurant is outstanding, and as the meal progresses and the lights come a twinkling on in the city, it's all the more spectacular.
Our first taste is an ameuse-bouche of a tiny timbale of cous-cous with specks of zucchini and tomato with herbs and a tomato-citrus sauce. It's OK, but not something I'd jump up and down about. My first course is 3 slabs of thin foie gras with espelette and a vinaigrette on a bed of mesclun with toasts of pain de campagne. Very good. T has a terrine of leek and foie gras with a citrus sauce that's delicious. For my main course I have grilled cabillaud on a bed of grilled cabbage with lardons. T has grilled tuna with a sweet potato and orange puree (sounds better than it tastes, the puree). The cheese plate is hilarious. The young waitress who has served us our courses and who has at the end of every one said "Ca vous a plu, Madame?" comes up with a tray of cheese and begins to name the offerings - Camembert, Brie, St Marcellin, Roquefort, Cabecou......" T and I look at the cheese plate and see a tiny lump of something beige and white just past the Roquefort and look at each other and whisper " cabecou?" I look at the waitress and say " C'est un pauvvre petit morceau de cabecou, n'est-ce pas?" She doesn't respond, but because we both want cabecou and not cheeses from Normandie to finish this meal, she takes our rather frigid silence to mean that she ought to go get some more cabecou, so she awkwardly disappears then reappears with a large tray of much fresher cheeses, including some complete cabecous, which we choose and enjoy.
The entire city of Villeneuve-sur-Lot twinkles below us as we finish our meal with a strawberry shortcake and a cremolina de fraises. There is no figuring out how to get out of the parking lot without breaking the law, so we do that and go backwards against the arrows and drive up the hill to the Hotel des Chenes where a huge moon has risen over the hills. There's no AC in the hotel, but we can keep the terrace doors open during the night for air, and the beds are comfortable and there are extra pillows. We sleep well in Pujols and are glad we found this little Relais du Silence on our way southward.
Aug 21st, 2005, 03:49 PM
#99
Join Date: Jan 2003
Posts: 331
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
Yes, thank you. And not just for the last few bits, but for the whole report. So evocative, it truly puts the reader "in the moment."
Ira, won't you be in the Dordogne soon? I'm wishing you a Bon Voyage and eagerly waiting for your trip report as well. If it is as entertaining and informative as your posts from Italy, etc. we will all learn something, I'm sure.
Thanks again, St. Cirq~
Ira, won't you be in the Dordogne soon? I'm wishing you a Bon Voyage and eagerly waiting for your trip report as well. If it is as entertaining and informative as your posts from Italy, etc. we will all learn something, I'm sure.
Thanks again, St. Cirq~
