How to get lost in rural France, or a Paris, Burgundy, Provence, and the Perigord Trip Report.
Dec 2nd, 2006, 01:48 PM
#81
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Coco...those bulls are beautiful! We laughed the whole way, how could we drive all day and not see any wildlife??? Oh well, now we have to go back, right!
As for what we didnt see...Peter Mayle! Ha! I think when we read his books we just pictured it differently. It was amazing to visit, just not what we had thought. Funny how you can imagine a place so differently. We had a wonderful time, none the less!
As for what we didnt see...Peter Mayle! Ha! I think when we read his books we just pictured it differently. It was amazing to visit, just not what we had thought. Funny how you can imagine a place so differently. We had a wonderful time, none the less!
Dec 2nd, 2006, 02:31 PM
#82
And don't forget the pink flamingoes!!
Along the roads are watchout posts that you can climb the stairs and watch. There's a wonderful wild life preservation you can visit. And Aigues Morte? Staying there over night is the best experience, dining somewhere within th walled village, dining on toro testis
and listening to a gypsy serenate you with his guitar and lyrics.
Along the roads are watchout posts that you can climb the stairs and watch. There's a wonderful wild life preservation you can visit. And Aigues Morte? Staying there over night is the best experience, dining somewhere within th walled village, dining on toro testis
and listening to a gypsy serenate you with his guitar and lyrics.
Dec 2nd, 2006, 02:54 PM
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I am late to the party on this thread, but I just wanted you to know I enjoyed your photos. The ones from Burgundy brought back pleasant memories of my student days at the Universite de Dijon too many years ago to want to be reminded of how long it has been now.
I have been lost in rural France many times myself but have yet to visit the Perigord. For that there is always a next time.
I have been lost in rural France many times myself but have yet to visit the Perigord. For that there is always a next time.
Dec 5th, 2006, 03:23 PM
#85
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Thanks for all the comments - I'm glad everyone is enjoying the report. Sorry about the delays in posting, I've been really busy lately. I've promised Jamikins that I'll get the whole thing wrapped up by the end of this weekend, so we've only got a few more days to go!
Dec 5th, 2006, 03:23 PM
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On the Road Again
Day 15: Saturday, September 29, 2006
(Check out the accompanying photos from this trip at http://tinyurl.com/w5rlb)
Another day of sleeping in – we were starting to spoil ourselves with all the rest, you’d have thought we were on vacation or something. All we had planned for the day was the drive from Provence up to the Périgord in the south-west of France. We’re used to driving up to 13 hours to get from Vancouver out to Cranbrook where Jamie’s parents live, so the eight hours the drive that day was supposed to take seemed like a cakewalk.
We managed to find our way out of St. Remy without a problem, and even managed to follow all the signs to the auto route which would take us west. It’s interesting that there are quite a few big auto routes that run north-south (or south-north, depending on your point of view), but it doesn’t seem that there are a lot that run east-west. And especially none that run north-west/south-east (i.e. straight from Provence to the Périgord). The drive from St. Remy to Toulouse was nice – increasingly Spanish-looking as we went, although the road was fairly busy, mostly with very large trucks traveling just below the speed limit of 130 km/h and very expensive cars traveling just (or way) above the speed limit – an exciting combination. Floriane did very well, but had an annoying habit of beeping whenever I hit 150km/h, which could be a pain when trying to pass the convoys of trucks with a massive Mercedes trying to seriously inconvenience my tailpipe.
At Toulouse, we turned onto the A20 and finally started heading north. The further we drove, the more the landscape changed – from the relatively flat grey-greens of Provence to the verdant hilly green of the Périgord. Despite a stop for lunch at one of the massive rest stops where I had a very tasty Toulouse sausage, we made it all the way up to the Dordogne in only 6 hours. I’m not sure if the driving time estimate we had was off, or if I have a bit of a lead-foot; either way we were there before we’d expected and had some time to kill before we could check into our hotel.
We took the exit at Souillac so that we could take the scenic route, instead of going straight through Sarlat. We didn’t quite realize that in the Périgord, the scenic route is SCENIC. Some of the roads we were on were the narrowest we’d been on in France. We drove through forests, up and down hills, and across seemingly endless fields of corn. It wasn’t until almost a week later that we realized that despite there being corn fields everywhere, we didn’t see corn on a single menu, anywhere. Poor ducks and geese…to bad their livers are so tasty.
By the time we made it through the countryside to Sarlat, we’d pretty much fallen in love with the Périgord. From what we’d seen so far, it was more or less everything we’d been imagining when thinking of rural France – very green, castles everywhere, little villages around every corner. Sarlat reinforced that - we wandered through the Saturday market looking for a Green Guide for the Périgord and an éclair (chocolate, for preference).
After finding a guidebook and the all-important éclair, we got back in the car and headed to our hotel. We had booked the week in Les Haute Granges, a place that turned out to be by far the nicest hotel we’d stayed in for the entire trip. It was a bit tricky to find – we drove about 15 minutes north from Sarlat to the tiny town of St. Crepin, found a little gravel path right in front of the Marie and drove a couple hundred yards through a well-manicured lawn. The hotel is set in the midst of what seemed like several acres of lawn and walnut trees, the building itself is more than 300 years old. We got a brief tour of the property which included a beautiful breakfast room with a GIANT fireplace (I could actually stand up in it), a pool, a covered common area outside, and a massive lawn.
We were pretty bagged by this point, and after the drive out I didn’t really feel like heading all the way back into town for dinner, so the hotel made reservations at a little restaurant up the road – literally up the road, it was only three kilometers away. After a brief rest in our room (which actually featured a stand up shower!), we headed out for what turned out to be the best meal we’d had thus far in France.
Auberge Les Plantades is a little hotel a ways back from the road. The restaurant itself is fairly small with only ten or so tables. When we arrived and 7:30 (early, by French standards – the restaurant only opened at 7:30) we were the only ones there. There isn’t a vast selection on the menu – you can either have duck, or if you’re feeling adventurous, there’s also duck. I started with a giant amuse bouche of pumpkin (or some other squash) soup, then a fantastic foie gras and pate terrine, followed by duck confit with roasted potatoes and garlic then a cheese plate (my first taste of Rocamadour chèvre), and finally a fairly big chocolate desert. Jamie, on the other hand, had the same amuse bouche as me, then a plate of very thinly sliced smoked duck, followed nicely by a huge magret of duck on a buckwheat risotto, then the cheese plate and chocolate desert. All this for €22.50 each – possibly the most food for the lowest price I’ve ever seen. The only downside was that we were absolutely stuffed by the time we were finished dinner. We rolled ourselves back to our hotel and passed out in a food coma.
Day 15: Saturday, September 29, 2006
(Check out the accompanying photos from this trip at http://tinyurl.com/w5rlb)
Another day of sleeping in – we were starting to spoil ourselves with all the rest, you’d have thought we were on vacation or something. All we had planned for the day was the drive from Provence up to the Périgord in the south-west of France. We’re used to driving up to 13 hours to get from Vancouver out to Cranbrook where Jamie’s parents live, so the eight hours the drive that day was supposed to take seemed like a cakewalk.
We managed to find our way out of St. Remy without a problem, and even managed to follow all the signs to the auto route which would take us west. It’s interesting that there are quite a few big auto routes that run north-south (or south-north, depending on your point of view), but it doesn’t seem that there are a lot that run east-west. And especially none that run north-west/south-east (i.e. straight from Provence to the Périgord). The drive from St. Remy to Toulouse was nice – increasingly Spanish-looking as we went, although the road was fairly busy, mostly with very large trucks traveling just below the speed limit of 130 km/h and very expensive cars traveling just (or way) above the speed limit – an exciting combination. Floriane did very well, but had an annoying habit of beeping whenever I hit 150km/h, which could be a pain when trying to pass the convoys of trucks with a massive Mercedes trying to seriously inconvenience my tailpipe.
At Toulouse, we turned onto the A20 and finally started heading north. The further we drove, the more the landscape changed – from the relatively flat grey-greens of Provence to the verdant hilly green of the Périgord. Despite a stop for lunch at one of the massive rest stops where I had a very tasty Toulouse sausage, we made it all the way up to the Dordogne in only 6 hours. I’m not sure if the driving time estimate we had was off, or if I have a bit of a lead-foot; either way we were there before we’d expected and had some time to kill before we could check into our hotel.
We took the exit at Souillac so that we could take the scenic route, instead of going straight through Sarlat. We didn’t quite realize that in the Périgord, the scenic route is SCENIC. Some of the roads we were on were the narrowest we’d been on in France. We drove through forests, up and down hills, and across seemingly endless fields of corn. It wasn’t until almost a week later that we realized that despite there being corn fields everywhere, we didn’t see corn on a single menu, anywhere. Poor ducks and geese…to bad their livers are so tasty.
By the time we made it through the countryside to Sarlat, we’d pretty much fallen in love with the Périgord. From what we’d seen so far, it was more or less everything we’d been imagining when thinking of rural France – very green, castles everywhere, little villages around every corner. Sarlat reinforced that - we wandered through the Saturday market looking for a Green Guide for the Périgord and an éclair (chocolate, for preference).
After finding a guidebook and the all-important éclair, we got back in the car and headed to our hotel. We had booked the week in Les Haute Granges, a place that turned out to be by far the nicest hotel we’d stayed in for the entire trip. It was a bit tricky to find – we drove about 15 minutes north from Sarlat to the tiny town of St. Crepin, found a little gravel path right in front of the Marie and drove a couple hundred yards through a well-manicured lawn. The hotel is set in the midst of what seemed like several acres of lawn and walnut trees, the building itself is more than 300 years old. We got a brief tour of the property which included a beautiful breakfast room with a GIANT fireplace (I could actually stand up in it), a pool, a covered common area outside, and a massive lawn.
We were pretty bagged by this point, and after the drive out I didn’t really feel like heading all the way back into town for dinner, so the hotel made reservations at a little restaurant up the road – literally up the road, it was only three kilometers away. After a brief rest in our room (which actually featured a stand up shower!), we headed out for what turned out to be the best meal we’d had thus far in France.
Auberge Les Plantades is a little hotel a ways back from the road. The restaurant itself is fairly small with only ten or so tables. When we arrived and 7:30 (early, by French standards – the restaurant only opened at 7:30) we were the only ones there. There isn’t a vast selection on the menu – you can either have duck, or if you’re feeling adventurous, there’s also duck. I started with a giant amuse bouche of pumpkin (or some other squash) soup, then a fantastic foie gras and pate terrine, followed by duck confit with roasted potatoes and garlic then a cheese plate (my first taste of Rocamadour chèvre), and finally a fairly big chocolate desert. Jamie, on the other hand, had the same amuse bouche as me, then a plate of very thinly sliced smoked duck, followed nicely by a huge magret of duck on a buckwheat risotto, then the cheese plate and chocolate desert. All this for €22.50 each – possibly the most food for the lowest price I’ve ever seen. The only downside was that we were absolutely stuffed by the time we were finished dinner. We rolled ourselves back to our hotel and passed out in a food coma.
Dec 5th, 2006, 09:18 PM
#87
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Actually, the place we stayed was called les granges hautes (Scott always gets it backwards) and it was fantastic. The website is http://www.les-granges-hautes.fr
Dec 6th, 2006, 08:03 AM
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The hotel looks wonderful. Your whole post from today makes me want so badly to go back to the area. We drove from St. Jean Cap Ferat to Carcassone for a night, then to La Roche Gigeac. You're right; it was fun to watch the terrain change. I loved the little pointed red roofs south of Gourdon.
Dec 6th, 2006, 08:41 AM
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Careful - we came to the Perigord on holiday, fell in love with it, and decided to move here. It just got too hard going back to Canada. As you say
'It was more or less everything we’d been imagining when thinking of rural France – very green, castles everywhere, little villages around every corner."
Just what we thought, and after 12 years, we have no regrets,and havent changed our minds at all!
Hope you wandered down to the little chateau in St Crepin, and saw the church, and did the walk to Carlucet and saw St. Genies and St. Amand de Coly and ...
'It was more or less everything we’d been imagining when thinking of rural France – very green, castles everywhere, little villages around every corner."
Just what we thought, and after 12 years, we have no regrets,and havent changed our minds at all!
Hope you wandered down to the little chateau in St Crepin, and saw the church, and did the walk to Carlucet and saw St. Genies and St. Amand de Coly and ...
Dec 6th, 2006, 10:07 AM
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Carlux - I have to admit that we spent quite a bit of time looking at the immobiliers in Sarlat and trying to work out what we'd do for work there...it wouldn't take much to convince us at this point.
We did drive down to the little chateau and church at St Crepin and even took a picture of it: http://tinyurl.com/yxvcmm We tried to find Carlucet, but couldn't - the signs we were following didn't seem to go anywhere...
We did drive down to the little chateau and church at St Crepin and even took a picture of it: http://tinyurl.com/yxvcmm We tried to find Carlucet, but couldn't - the signs we were following didn't seem to go anywhere...
Dec 6th, 2006, 01:07 PM
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The chateau is called Laceypierre (sometimes La Cipiere) and is owned by an architect whose wife owns the Couleuvrine hotel in Sarlat. When they found it, it was really a ruin - the stream underneath the building was gradually knocking it down. It's one of our favourite places - the way you come upon it as you walk down the hill is still magical.
They've done a lovely job, although not much of it is usually open - on the Journees du Patrimoine in September you can often go through.
Carlucet is a pretty tiny place - but a nice walk.
They've done a lovely job, although not much of it is usually open - on the Journees du Patrimoine in September you can often go through.
Carlucet is a pretty tiny place - but a nice walk.
Dec 6th, 2006, 01:35 PM
#92
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Scott your report is fantastic! We also wondered about the corn...another thing I did not see on menus was goose. What do they do with the rest of the animal after they take the livers? We will just have to return and investigate. I guess. Can't wait to read more....
Dec 6th, 2006, 05:07 PM
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It is said that the meat of a fatted duck or goose tends to be dry. That is why it is served as a confit, usually with a rich sauce. But on the markets one can find smoked magret, rolled magret stuffed with liver, and other products from these animals.
Dec 6th, 2006, 05:09 PM
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I have been waiting with anticipation for you to get to the Dordogne. Our rental was on the property just adjacent to Les Granges Hautes, and it's quite a treat to have you now moving in next door. The road that took you to Lacypierre (which Carlux had recommended when we were in the planning stages--we, too, were enchanted) goes on to Carlucet. Being uncertain of the distance and wilting a bit under the 90 degree heat we had in September, we took the car. Carlucet is very attractively sited looking over a little valley, and its church's cemetery gets mention in the Michelin guide for its tombs set in recesses in the curtain wall.
Dec 6th, 2006, 09:16 PM
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Foie Gras Three Ways, Plus, a Castle
Day 16: Sunday, October 1, 2006
(Check out the accompanying photos from this trip at http://tinyurl.com/w5rlb)
Our first full day in the Périgord confirmed our initial impression of it – we absolutely loved it. We started the day having breakfast in the large common room in front of the fireplace – normally we avoid hotel breakfasts but we were too far out to really make it anywhere in time. As it turned out, this was a good idea – breakfast was excellent (lots of fresh bread, pastries, white cheese, and really good coffee).
Our first mission of the day was Castelnaud, perhaps the most famous of the castles on the Dordogne River. The castle was actually smaller than I’d expected. For some reason, I thought it and Beynac were the castles from the Michael Crichton book “Out of Time” and I’d imagined them quite a bit bigger than they turned out to be. We’d also read a book about a couple who lived in a house just below the castle itself, directly below what was eventually turned into the trebuchet range (unfortunately I forget both the author and the name of the book).
Evidently the castle was almost in ruins by 1966, when they started reconstructing it – much of it had been used as a convenient quarry for various local building projects, as so many castles and buildings have been over the years. They’ve certainly done a hell of a job – most of it is back to its original state, and is quite impressive.
The view from the ramparts makes the trip out there worth it – from Beynac to the left to the line of the Dordogne River straight ahead, there isn’t a bad angle. The only downside of the trip for us was that not a lot had been translated into English – we’re champions at ordering wine in restaurants, but not so much at figuring out signs and plaques in a French medieval war museum.
After stomping around the castle and its grounds for a while, we drove the short distance to the ridiculously picturesque village of La Roque Gageac. I’m not sure whose idea it was to build a village on the narrow strip of sort-of flat land between the Dordogne River and the giant cliff, but they certainly must’ve had vision. Most of the houses are built right against the cliff face itself and several have been destroyed over the years as either the river rises far above its banks, or little (and not so little) bits of the cliff itself fall on them. According to the official guide, it’s one of the most beautiful villages in all of France, and I could see no reason to argue with that.
Besides taking pictures, the main purpose of our visit to La Roque Gageac was to take one of the river boat rides from the town down to Castelnaud and back. We bought our tickets for the 2:30pm trip and found a convenient restaurant for lunch called “La Palmier” with, as far as we could tell, the terrace with the best view in town. Talk about timing – no sooner had we been seated but the skies opened up and the deluge began. As we ate, we watched as assorted tourists scrambled for cover and a mangy three-legged dog tried to pee on as many cars in the parking lot as it could. During lunch, we discussed the many possible translations for the word “gésier”, as it featured as an ingredient in Jamie’s Périgordine salad, along with foie gras, walnuts, and duck breast. It wasn’t until we’d finished most of the gésiers that we realized that the most likely translation was “gizzard”, but we chose not to accept that until after we’d finished the salad, as it was very tasty. My pizza didn’t feature any untranslatable items, but was very good nevertheless.
As we are very clever with timing, the rain stopped just as we finished lunch. We walked the short distance across the road and parking lot and boarded the little boat, known as a gabare. The cruise was, as advertised, very scenic and I got some great shots of the banks of the Dordogne, La Roque, and Castelnaud. The tour company provides little headsets in various languages so that non-french-speakers can enjoy the commentary, but we found that we could pick up enough of the live tour guide’s comments to catch the gist of what she was saying.
The cruise wasn’t very long, but well worth the few dollars it cost, especially as one of our co-passengers had by far the most spectacular mullet I’ve seen in years (paired with an assortment of thick gold chains and luxuriant chest hair), and thus provided additional entertainment. After the cruise, we drove up (or down, I’m not sure which direction) to the little hill town of Domme, another on the list of the “Most Beautiful Towns in France.”
I’m not sure why, and I’m sure many will disagree with me, but we weren’t completely enamoured with Domme. We got a slightly odd feeling in the town, and I felt it was a bit spooky – I have no idea why. We wandered around for a bit and enjoyed the view (it’s a hill town and has a most impressive viewpoint). We decided to skip the Templar tour, but did go for the tour of the grotto.
The grotto at Domme is a series of natural caves and caverns carved out of the hillside by the patient action of centuries of water seeping slowly through the rocks, carrying the limestone embedded in the harder rock with it. It creates some amazing stalagmites and stalactites as it does this. The caves were relatively small and cramped, slightly claustrophobic, as you might expect. The tour was a bit over our heads (both literally and figuratively) – again, our ability to read a french menu or wine list can’t be questioned, but our knowledge of obtuse geological vocabulary is sorely lacking. We probably would have enjoyed the tour more if the guide had spoken a little slower, or if the elderly tourists we were with weren’t quite so rude, or if whoever it was that had the horrid B.O. had used some deodorant. Despite this, we were amazed to learn that the caves were discovered in 1912 by a group of young boys searching for their lost dog – I can’t imagine crawling through the narrow crevice below the town without knowing what was on the other side.
We didn’t spend a lot of time hanging around after the cave tour – it seemed that most of Domme was closing up for the evening. We enjoyed a quick drink at a bar just off the big open area at the viewpoint and planned our next move. The hotel had recommended a restaurant in La Roque Gageac, and we’d taken a look at the menu before leaving that afternoon – it was decided – we were going to La Belle Etoile for dinner.
We drove the short way back to La Roque and found some free parking, always a bonus. We were a bit early (most restaurants in the area don’t seem to open until 7:30pm) so we sat on the river bank and watched the sun go down. I still couldn’t get over the sheer beauty of the town. It didn’t seem possible that people lived here – woke up every morning and looked out on the river sliding quietly over its banks, with the castles and chateaus perched on all the nearby hills.
Dinner was unreal. We both went for the slightly fancy €39 menu so that we could have the “Foie Gras Discovery” appetizer – foie gras served three ways. Words can’t express how good it was – quite simply heaven on a plate, with salt and some toasted bread. Although the rest of the meal was excellent, and the atmosphere in the restaurant very agreeable, it couldn’t compare with that first foie gras plate.
After dinner, the drive home was interesting. Living in a relatively large city, I sometimes forget how dark it can get out in the country. It felt like we were the only people for miles, and as we rounded corners blindly at speed, I wished our headlights were just a little brighter.
I’m convinced that while we were out for the day, they moved all the signs around in Sarlat, as we got spectacularly lost trying to drive through it. We eventually found our way, and made it back to the hotel. What a day – castles, foie gras, mullets…we couldn’t have asked for more.
Day 16: Sunday, October 1, 2006
(Check out the accompanying photos from this trip at http://tinyurl.com/w5rlb)
Our first full day in the Périgord confirmed our initial impression of it – we absolutely loved it. We started the day having breakfast in the large common room in front of the fireplace – normally we avoid hotel breakfasts but we were too far out to really make it anywhere in time. As it turned out, this was a good idea – breakfast was excellent (lots of fresh bread, pastries, white cheese, and really good coffee).
Our first mission of the day was Castelnaud, perhaps the most famous of the castles on the Dordogne River. The castle was actually smaller than I’d expected. For some reason, I thought it and Beynac were the castles from the Michael Crichton book “Out of Time” and I’d imagined them quite a bit bigger than they turned out to be. We’d also read a book about a couple who lived in a house just below the castle itself, directly below what was eventually turned into the trebuchet range (unfortunately I forget both the author and the name of the book).
Evidently the castle was almost in ruins by 1966, when they started reconstructing it – much of it had been used as a convenient quarry for various local building projects, as so many castles and buildings have been over the years. They’ve certainly done a hell of a job – most of it is back to its original state, and is quite impressive.
The view from the ramparts makes the trip out there worth it – from Beynac to the left to the line of the Dordogne River straight ahead, there isn’t a bad angle. The only downside of the trip for us was that not a lot had been translated into English – we’re champions at ordering wine in restaurants, but not so much at figuring out signs and plaques in a French medieval war museum.
After stomping around the castle and its grounds for a while, we drove the short distance to the ridiculously picturesque village of La Roque Gageac. I’m not sure whose idea it was to build a village on the narrow strip of sort-of flat land between the Dordogne River and the giant cliff, but they certainly must’ve had vision. Most of the houses are built right against the cliff face itself and several have been destroyed over the years as either the river rises far above its banks, or little (and not so little) bits of the cliff itself fall on them. According to the official guide, it’s one of the most beautiful villages in all of France, and I could see no reason to argue with that.
Besides taking pictures, the main purpose of our visit to La Roque Gageac was to take one of the river boat rides from the town down to Castelnaud and back. We bought our tickets for the 2:30pm trip and found a convenient restaurant for lunch called “La Palmier” with, as far as we could tell, the terrace with the best view in town. Talk about timing – no sooner had we been seated but the skies opened up and the deluge began. As we ate, we watched as assorted tourists scrambled for cover and a mangy three-legged dog tried to pee on as many cars in the parking lot as it could. During lunch, we discussed the many possible translations for the word “gésier”, as it featured as an ingredient in Jamie’s Périgordine salad, along with foie gras, walnuts, and duck breast. It wasn’t until we’d finished most of the gésiers that we realized that the most likely translation was “gizzard”, but we chose not to accept that until after we’d finished the salad, as it was very tasty. My pizza didn’t feature any untranslatable items, but was very good nevertheless.
As we are very clever with timing, the rain stopped just as we finished lunch. We walked the short distance across the road and parking lot and boarded the little boat, known as a gabare. The cruise was, as advertised, very scenic and I got some great shots of the banks of the Dordogne, La Roque, and Castelnaud. The tour company provides little headsets in various languages so that non-french-speakers can enjoy the commentary, but we found that we could pick up enough of the live tour guide’s comments to catch the gist of what she was saying.
The cruise wasn’t very long, but well worth the few dollars it cost, especially as one of our co-passengers had by far the most spectacular mullet I’ve seen in years (paired with an assortment of thick gold chains and luxuriant chest hair), and thus provided additional entertainment. After the cruise, we drove up (or down, I’m not sure which direction) to the little hill town of Domme, another on the list of the “Most Beautiful Towns in France.”
I’m not sure why, and I’m sure many will disagree with me, but we weren’t completely enamoured with Domme. We got a slightly odd feeling in the town, and I felt it was a bit spooky – I have no idea why. We wandered around for a bit and enjoyed the view (it’s a hill town and has a most impressive viewpoint). We decided to skip the Templar tour, but did go for the tour of the grotto.
The grotto at Domme is a series of natural caves and caverns carved out of the hillside by the patient action of centuries of water seeping slowly through the rocks, carrying the limestone embedded in the harder rock with it. It creates some amazing stalagmites and stalactites as it does this. The caves were relatively small and cramped, slightly claustrophobic, as you might expect. The tour was a bit over our heads (both literally and figuratively) – again, our ability to read a french menu or wine list can’t be questioned, but our knowledge of obtuse geological vocabulary is sorely lacking. We probably would have enjoyed the tour more if the guide had spoken a little slower, or if the elderly tourists we were with weren’t quite so rude, or if whoever it was that had the horrid B.O. had used some deodorant. Despite this, we were amazed to learn that the caves were discovered in 1912 by a group of young boys searching for their lost dog – I can’t imagine crawling through the narrow crevice below the town without knowing what was on the other side.
We didn’t spend a lot of time hanging around after the cave tour – it seemed that most of Domme was closing up for the evening. We enjoyed a quick drink at a bar just off the big open area at the viewpoint and planned our next move. The hotel had recommended a restaurant in La Roque Gageac, and we’d taken a look at the menu before leaving that afternoon – it was decided – we were going to La Belle Etoile for dinner.
We drove the short way back to La Roque and found some free parking, always a bonus. We were a bit early (most restaurants in the area don’t seem to open until 7:30pm) so we sat on the river bank and watched the sun go down. I still couldn’t get over the sheer beauty of the town. It didn’t seem possible that people lived here – woke up every morning and looked out on the river sliding quietly over its banks, with the castles and chateaus perched on all the nearby hills.
Dinner was unreal. We both went for the slightly fancy €39 menu so that we could have the “Foie Gras Discovery” appetizer – foie gras served three ways. Words can’t express how good it was – quite simply heaven on a plate, with salt and some toasted bread. Although the rest of the meal was excellent, and the atmosphere in the restaurant very agreeable, it couldn’t compare with that first foie gras plate.
After dinner, the drive home was interesting. Living in a relatively large city, I sometimes forget how dark it can get out in the country. It felt like we were the only people for miles, and as we rounded corners blindly at speed, I wished our headlights were just a little brighter.
I’m convinced that while we were out for the day, they moved all the signs around in Sarlat, as we got spectacularly lost trying to drive through it. We eventually found our way, and made it back to the hotel. What a day – castles, foie gras, mullets…we couldn’t have asked for more.
Dec 7th, 2006, 12:20 AM
#98
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OK, for us yokels WHAT'S A MULLET? Presumably not a fish.
By the way, we agree with your opinion of Domme. Never actually found it spooky, but it is far to commercial, which really detracts from its charm. The nicest part (other than the view, which of course is spectacular) is the walk through the public garden, and along the narrow road leaving town.
I too think that Castelnaud was the chateau in Timeline, although it isn't quite as impressive as Beynac
By the way, we agree with your opinion of Domme. Never actually found it spooky, but it is far to commercial, which really detracts from its charm. The nicest part (other than the view, which of course is spectacular) is the walk through the public garden, and along the narrow road leaving town.
I too think that Castelnaud was the chateau in Timeline, although it isn't quite as impressive as Beynac
Dec 7th, 2006, 05:49 AM
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Carlux, I am really disappointed in you - surely as a Canadian you know what a mullet is - a hair style particularly popular with hockey players, from the 80's. It is short on the top, sides and front but long in the back. They were seen about the same time a lot of males and females had kinky perms. (Now don't tell me you never saw the greatest movie of all time - "Slapshot"
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Dec 7th, 2006, 06:20 AM
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Thinking of BikerScott and Carlux's different feelings of Domme ... we stayed there for five days but never really felt at home in that town.
It became a game to get past the front desk, coming or going, of L'Esplanade before the lady demanded pointedly if we would be eating there tonight... and her look of disappontment when we said "no".
We walked into an open cafe on the main square for coffee in the morning. There were several tables of, I assume locals. Everyone stopped talking and stared at us when we entered. I wondered if it were interrupting a meeting of the town council.
There is a business beside L'Esplanade where you can buy ice cream but it is also a bar. We found that it was important whether you sat on one side of a particular post as to whether you were served a drink or not. I guess they share the terrace.
We bought some jellied fruit candies from a vendor at the Domme market - delicious, I must add. He gave us several samples. We bought a small bag of about a dozen candies. When he weighed them and demanded "treize euros" I thought I had my French "3" and "13" confused but it was €13. They didn't taste quite as good after that.
These happenings sound trivial, and they are, but they seem to shape your opinion of a place, fairly or not.
It became a game to get past the front desk, coming or going, of L'Esplanade before the lady demanded pointedly if we would be eating there tonight... and her look of disappontment when we said "no".
We walked into an open cafe on the main square for coffee in the morning. There were several tables of, I assume locals. Everyone stopped talking and stared at us when we entered. I wondered if it were interrupting a meeting of the town council.
There is a business beside L'Esplanade where you can buy ice cream but it is also a bar. We found that it was important whether you sat on one side of a particular post as to whether you were served a drink or not. I guess they share the terrace.
We bought some jellied fruit candies from a vendor at the Domme market - delicious, I must add. He gave us several samples. We bought a small bag of about a dozen candies. When he weighed them and demanded "treize euros" I thought I had my French "3" and "13" confused but it was €13. They didn't taste quite as good after that.
These happenings sound trivial, and they are, but they seem to shape your opinion of a place, fairly or not.
