Tournez à gauche, Tournez à droite? Maitai’s Scenic Detour Through France
Nov 19th, 2012, 03:50 PM
#81
As usual I'm enjoying your report.. not only in itself... but as a reminder of time we spent there a few years ago.
And I'm sorry to hear about the bleeding episodes.... I've helped my elderly neighbor get out
of several scrapes* with prednisone.
(* Guess we can pun on even awful stuff -
And I'm sorry to hear about the bleeding episodes.... I've helped my elderly neighbor get out
of several scrapes* with prednisone.
(* Guess we can pun on even awful stuff -
Nov 19th, 2012, 04:38 PM
#82
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I want you to know that DH is bonding with you electronically. He broke his lower leg a few years ago (compound fracture) which was ugly and slow healing. Somehow the skin on that lower leg has remained thin, and burned very badly a couple of years later, while he stood in the sun at a pool on St. Maarten, chatting up the bathing beauties. Outcome: I could use your friend Mary on all of our trips. We usually have one or more bloody occasions. Good luck with that. It really is a drag. Hopefully you will get off the prednisone one day. Just keep on keepin' on!
Nov 19th, 2012, 04:53 PM
#83
Original Poster
I was actually thinking of stealing one of those suits of armor at Chateau Castelnaud to protect my skin, but realized that driving would be quite a hassle with it on. Then again, perhaps Tracy would have had a little Knight Fever (my apologies to the Bee Gees).
Nov 20th, 2012, 06:37 AM
#84
Original Poster
Day Seven - Wow What A View, Wrong Way Maitai, How Many Stairs Is That Again, A River Runs Through It, The View Was Better, Our Most Beautiful Village, (No Offense) Our Most Overrated Village, Carennac The Magnificent, Seeing Red and Are You Sure That’s Not The Place You Wanted To Eat
I heard grumbling from the troops as my iPhone sounded the 6:45 a.m. Duck Quacks (love a theme) to wake everyone up.
“Why do we have to have the alarm when we are on vacation?” Tracy groused (as you can see, she was in a fowl mood).
Not thinking it a big deal, I said, “Well, we get up at this time at home.”
Tracy quickly (without the aid of caffeine) replied, “That’s the point.” We’re on vacation.”
In any event, we were all up très early, and a little after 8, we were on the way to our longest journey so far on this trip. Caffeine seemed to have everybody back on track. Villa des Consuls also provides café au laits (to go) at a very inexpensive price (did I mention we REALLY liked this place). They also have a cute breakfast room that we didn’t take advantage of during our stay.
We all enjoyed the scenic drive on this Monday morning, made a little more scenic by Madame Bleu’s occasional hiccups. I think she might have had a hangover (probably got into my Liqueur de Noix).
We had 11 o’clock reservations at Gouffre de Padirac, so the goal of this first drive was to see Rocamadour from afar to enjoy the wonderful view.
Stupidly (my middle name on vacation), I had forgotten to take the Fodor’s post explaining which road was the correct one for that amazing view, but as luck would have it we drove to L’Hospitalet. When Kim saw that town sign he said, “With all your medical problems. L’Hospitalet sounds like the town for you.” Having not had a medical episode for nearly 19 hours, the multiple-bandaged Sir-Bleed-A-Lot let the comment slide.
Besides being my new hometown, L’Hospitalet IS where you are able to get a stunning look across the valley to Rocamadour. After admiring the view, we decided we would have lunch in Rocamadour after our Gouffre de Padirac visit.
Madame Bleu had taken us on some dubious routes for the past few days, but since everything was so close, we gave our French GPS mistress a pass. We plugged in Gouffre de Padirac as our next stop, and she seemed rather confused asking us to make some weird u-turns and turns that led to nowhere.
With my car window open (fortunately), I followed Madame Bleu’s direction to go up a hill. About 50 yards into the climb I heard screaming (for once it was not from any of my passngers), and looking down to my left I saw a few guys wildly gesticulating. Most of them were yelling in French, but one guy must have known that only stupid Americans would go the wrong way on a one-way road. “Turn around,” he yelled in perfect English.
This near calamity must have shocked Madame Bleu because she got back on her game and finally we were headed in the right direction. We stopped in a town along the way to get a pastry or two, but I guess Monday is not a big day to have pastries since nothing was open.
We arrived at Gouffre de Padirac at about 10:20 and after a ten-minute walk from the parking lot, I showed the woman at the ticket window our timed 11 a.m. tickets.
She said I was early. I told her I knew we were early. She said (not so pleasantly), “Well you can go with the 10:30 group, but don’t do this again, and you know you cannot go on the 11 a.m. tour.” Not planning to be in this neck of the woods for the next 15-20 years and since we wouldn’t be back up from this tour until noon, I said, “No problem.” The cost is 8€ (plus berating).
The descent into Gouffre de Padirac, discovered by the famous speleologist (aka cave guy) Édouard Alfred Martel in 1889, takes you down 450 or so steps. As much as we love steps, we figured this day would have enough, so once we hit the three different lifts that eventually get you to the bottom we took them.
A short walk took us to where we would catch a 2,100-foot boat ride through limestone formations. We only had to wait about five minutes for the boat (they hold 11 people plus the boatman), and soon we were gliding on the turquoise water with our guide standing and steering the boat like a gondolier (well, he stood in the back like one anyway). He obviously had just returned from a comedy club gig, because he joked with the passengers in both English and French and pretended to try and put us in the drink a few times.
After safely reaching the other side, another guide took us on a ½ hour journey of the caves where we walked past stunning caverns, stalactites, stalagmites and waterfalls. The tour was quite informative, our guide was fluent in French and English, and he was also very funny. He made a joke about the French in English and added, “What do I care, I’m from Belgium.” Boom!
He also told us that the cave had formed about 10,000 – 20,000 years ago when it “caved in,” but he assured us that since it was not Friday the 13th we should be fine. He did warn about not coming here on the day the world is going to end in December. That Mayan Calendar story gets around.
Then we hopped on the boat back to the other side, bought an overpriced picture they took of us (what the hell, we’re tourists) on the boat and headed back up (via the lift). From start to finish, the tour of Gouffre de Padirac is 90 minutes, and it was a fascinating experience.
Not so fascinating was our next stop. We drove back to Rocamadour and parked above the town. We took the 4€ lift down to town and started walking through this incredibly touristic town.
Kim and Mary wanted salad and crepes, while Tracy and I were fancying something more substantial (turned out that would be chicken and more delicious pommes frites) and dined under a patio awning. They opened it up as I was finishing my beer (I virtually never drink beer at home, but European beer on tap cannot be beat), and we could look up to the buildings above. It seems the views of Rocamadour are better than the actual town.
Meeting back up with Kim and Mary, Mary said, “Let’s go see the Black Madonna.” I thought about singing Like A Virgin, but it would have been wrong.
From what I read, many religious people make the pilgrimage to Rocamadour to climb the 216 stone steps (Grand Escalier) on their knees to get to the Chapelle de-Notre Dame. We were not part of that group as our knees were already swollen.
Inside is the Black Madonna statue that some say aided in numerous miracles centuries ago, however until the Padres win a World Series, I am withholding judgment.
Sadly, we were pretty underwhelmed by Rocamadour. I vote with those that say take a look at it from afar and move on.
It was now past 13:00 and time for the Maitai Informal Les Plus Beaux Villages de France Poll of four towns on our afternoon agenda. They would include (in order of travel) Loubressac, Autoire, Carennac and Collonges-la-Rouge.
First stop was Loubressac, and it is a beautiful little town with medieval homes made out of stone (ochre), many with pointed roofs. “Maybe we’ll see a condo made of stone-a,” I said, which as usual was met by rolling eyes.
We also walked through the cemetery, and the four of us gave the town high marks. Tracy called the town “breathtaking,” and the views were also stupendous. Positioned throughout town, there were numerous artists with their easels painting the many lovely homes. “This would be a tough town to beat,” we all said.
Next, we made the short drive to Autoire. Although it is a cute enough town (actually the photos look better than what I remember Autoire looked like when we were there), Autoire did not grab us the way Loubressac had. It just didn’t have that quaint a feel. Maybe it had the bad luck to follow Loubressac in our beautiful town quest.
We attempted to go look for a waterfall just outside of town, and although it was a lovely walk through the forest, we decided to stop our quest after about 15 minutes remembering our windmill adventure from the day before.
Another rather short drive took us to Carennac, located on the bank of the Dordogne River. We went inside the Église St-Pierre that had been built in the 11th century.
Similar to Loubressac, there were a lot of colorful flowers and quaint stone houses. You could take dozens of photos from the small bridge in town. Carennac impressed us all.
Last on the Beautiful Villages Tour was the town of Collonges-la-Rouge. CLR has been around since the 8th century, and it would be the best of these four towns to stay, in my opinion.
Collonges-la-Rouge is constructed entirely with red sandstone, which makes it pretty striking.
Our final rankings were: (1) Loubressac, (2) Collonges-la-Rouge (upon further review, my personal favorite), (3) Carennac, and we put Autoire a distant fourth.
We listened to some good euro-music on the way back to Sarlat, and Madame Bleu got us there in just over an hour from CLR. We had wine on the terrace before heading out to dinner.
Many of Sarlat’s restaurants are closed on Monday. Bistro l’Octroi was full, so Kim and Mary decided to have a pizza and headed back to the room.
Tracy and I saw a restaurant that was open, L’Instant Delice, and she said, “Isn’t that the place you wanted to try?” I said, “No, I’m sure that’s not it.” She said, I’m pretty sure it is (foreshadowing),” so we trudged onward.
We finally decided to eat outside at Restaurant du Commerce, a restaurant that gets pretty bad reviews on TripAdvisor, but I, for one, do not think TripAdvisor reviews are all that reliable, plus we were pretty hungry by now.
Restaurant du Commerce was nothing extra special, but the food was not at all bad, plus it was nice to sit outside on a starry, comfortable Sarlat evening eating and sipping wine. My beef carpaccio with pesto to start was very good, and the rest of our meal was completely satisfactory.
Incredibly, tomorrow would be our last day in the Dordogne. Time flies when you're eating foie gras. I had pre-booked tickets to see some very old bison and reindeer in the morning. We would also enjoy a relaxing picnic along the river. And, much to my traveling partners delight, there would be no early morning duck sounds to awake them.
Next: Day Eight – So Easy A Caveman Could Do It, Please Don’t Write On The Bison, A Beautiful Drive, Down By The Lazy River, Cave Dwellers, Where Is That Damned Restaurant, A Final Walk Through Sarlat and Finding Pasta In The Land Of Foie Gras
I heard grumbling from the troops as my iPhone sounded the 6:45 a.m. Duck Quacks (love a theme) to wake everyone up.
“Why do we have to have the alarm when we are on vacation?” Tracy groused (as you can see, she was in a fowl mood).
Not thinking it a big deal, I said, “Well, we get up at this time at home.”
Tracy quickly (without the aid of caffeine) replied, “That’s the point.” We’re on vacation.”
In any event, we were all up très early, and a little after 8, we were on the way to our longest journey so far on this trip. Caffeine seemed to have everybody back on track. Villa des Consuls also provides café au laits (to go) at a very inexpensive price (did I mention we REALLY liked this place). They also have a cute breakfast room that we didn’t take advantage of during our stay.
We all enjoyed the scenic drive on this Monday morning, made a little more scenic by Madame Bleu’s occasional hiccups. I think she might have had a hangover (probably got into my Liqueur de Noix).
We had 11 o’clock reservations at Gouffre de Padirac, so the goal of this first drive was to see Rocamadour from afar to enjoy the wonderful view.
Stupidly (my middle name on vacation), I had forgotten to take the Fodor’s post explaining which road was the correct one for that amazing view, but as luck would have it we drove to L’Hospitalet. When Kim saw that town sign he said, “With all your medical problems. L’Hospitalet sounds like the town for you.” Having not had a medical episode for nearly 19 hours, the multiple-bandaged Sir-Bleed-A-Lot let the comment slide.
Besides being my new hometown, L’Hospitalet IS where you are able to get a stunning look across the valley to Rocamadour. After admiring the view, we decided we would have lunch in Rocamadour after our Gouffre de Padirac visit.
Madame Bleu had taken us on some dubious routes for the past few days, but since everything was so close, we gave our French GPS mistress a pass. We plugged in Gouffre de Padirac as our next stop, and she seemed rather confused asking us to make some weird u-turns and turns that led to nowhere.
With my car window open (fortunately), I followed Madame Bleu’s direction to go up a hill. About 50 yards into the climb I heard screaming (for once it was not from any of my passngers), and looking down to my left I saw a few guys wildly gesticulating. Most of them were yelling in French, but one guy must have known that only stupid Americans would go the wrong way on a one-way road. “Turn around,” he yelled in perfect English.
This near calamity must have shocked Madame Bleu because she got back on her game and finally we were headed in the right direction. We stopped in a town along the way to get a pastry or two, but I guess Monday is not a big day to have pastries since nothing was open.
We arrived at Gouffre de Padirac at about 10:20 and after a ten-minute walk from the parking lot, I showed the woman at the ticket window our timed 11 a.m. tickets.
She said I was early. I told her I knew we were early. She said (not so pleasantly), “Well you can go with the 10:30 group, but don’t do this again, and you know you cannot go on the 11 a.m. tour.” Not planning to be in this neck of the woods for the next 15-20 years and since we wouldn’t be back up from this tour until noon, I said, “No problem.” The cost is 8€ (plus berating).
The descent into Gouffre de Padirac, discovered by the famous speleologist (aka cave guy) Édouard Alfred Martel in 1889, takes you down 450 or so steps. As much as we love steps, we figured this day would have enough, so once we hit the three different lifts that eventually get you to the bottom we took them.
A short walk took us to where we would catch a 2,100-foot boat ride through limestone formations. We only had to wait about five minutes for the boat (they hold 11 people plus the boatman), and soon we were gliding on the turquoise water with our guide standing and steering the boat like a gondolier (well, he stood in the back like one anyway). He obviously had just returned from a comedy club gig, because he joked with the passengers in both English and French and pretended to try and put us in the drink a few times.
After safely reaching the other side, another guide took us on a ½ hour journey of the caves where we walked past stunning caverns, stalactites, stalagmites and waterfalls. The tour was quite informative, our guide was fluent in French and English, and he was also very funny. He made a joke about the French in English and added, “What do I care, I’m from Belgium.” Boom!
He also told us that the cave had formed about 10,000 – 20,000 years ago when it “caved in,” but he assured us that since it was not Friday the 13th we should be fine. He did warn about not coming here on the day the world is going to end in December. That Mayan Calendar story gets around.
Then we hopped on the boat back to the other side, bought an overpriced picture they took of us (what the hell, we’re tourists) on the boat and headed back up (via the lift). From start to finish, the tour of Gouffre de Padirac is 90 minutes, and it was a fascinating experience.
Not so fascinating was our next stop. We drove back to Rocamadour and parked above the town. We took the 4€ lift down to town and started walking through this incredibly touristic town.
Kim and Mary wanted salad and crepes, while Tracy and I were fancying something more substantial (turned out that would be chicken and more delicious pommes frites) and dined under a patio awning. They opened it up as I was finishing my beer (I virtually never drink beer at home, but European beer on tap cannot be beat), and we could look up to the buildings above. It seems the views of Rocamadour are better than the actual town.
Meeting back up with Kim and Mary, Mary said, “Let’s go see the Black Madonna.” I thought about singing Like A Virgin, but it would have been wrong.
From what I read, many religious people make the pilgrimage to Rocamadour to climb the 216 stone steps (Grand Escalier) on their knees to get to the Chapelle de-Notre Dame. We were not part of that group as our knees were already swollen.
Inside is the Black Madonna statue that some say aided in numerous miracles centuries ago, however until the Padres win a World Series, I am withholding judgment.
Sadly, we were pretty underwhelmed by Rocamadour. I vote with those that say take a look at it from afar and move on.
It was now past 13:00 and time for the Maitai Informal Les Plus Beaux Villages de France Poll of four towns on our afternoon agenda. They would include (in order of travel) Loubressac, Autoire, Carennac and Collonges-la-Rouge.
First stop was Loubressac, and it is a beautiful little town with medieval homes made out of stone (ochre), many with pointed roofs. “Maybe we’ll see a condo made of stone-a,” I said, which as usual was met by rolling eyes.
We also walked through the cemetery, and the four of us gave the town high marks. Tracy called the town “breathtaking,” and the views were also stupendous. Positioned throughout town, there were numerous artists with their easels painting the many lovely homes. “This would be a tough town to beat,” we all said.
Next, we made the short drive to Autoire. Although it is a cute enough town (actually the photos look better than what I remember Autoire looked like when we were there), Autoire did not grab us the way Loubressac had. It just didn’t have that quaint a feel. Maybe it had the bad luck to follow Loubressac in our beautiful town quest.
We attempted to go look for a waterfall just outside of town, and although it was a lovely walk through the forest, we decided to stop our quest after about 15 minutes remembering our windmill adventure from the day before.
Another rather short drive took us to Carennac, located on the bank of the Dordogne River. We went inside the Église St-Pierre that had been built in the 11th century.
Similar to Loubressac, there were a lot of colorful flowers and quaint stone houses. You could take dozens of photos from the small bridge in town. Carennac impressed us all.
Last on the Beautiful Villages Tour was the town of Collonges-la-Rouge. CLR has been around since the 8th century, and it would be the best of these four towns to stay, in my opinion.
Collonges-la-Rouge is constructed entirely with red sandstone, which makes it pretty striking.
Our final rankings were: (1) Loubressac, (2) Collonges-la-Rouge (upon further review, my personal favorite), (3) Carennac, and we put Autoire a distant fourth.
We listened to some good euro-music on the way back to Sarlat, and Madame Bleu got us there in just over an hour from CLR. We had wine on the terrace before heading out to dinner.
Many of Sarlat’s restaurants are closed on Monday. Bistro l’Octroi was full, so Kim and Mary decided to have a pizza and headed back to the room.
Tracy and I saw a restaurant that was open, L’Instant Delice, and she said, “Isn’t that the place you wanted to try?” I said, “No, I’m sure that’s not it.” She said, I’m pretty sure it is (foreshadowing),” so we trudged onward.
We finally decided to eat outside at Restaurant du Commerce, a restaurant that gets pretty bad reviews on TripAdvisor, but I, for one, do not think TripAdvisor reviews are all that reliable, plus we were pretty hungry by now.
Restaurant du Commerce was nothing extra special, but the food was not at all bad, plus it was nice to sit outside on a starry, comfortable Sarlat evening eating and sipping wine. My beef carpaccio with pesto to start was very good, and the rest of our meal was completely satisfactory.
Incredibly, tomorrow would be our last day in the Dordogne. Time flies when you're eating foie gras. I had pre-booked tickets to see some very old bison and reindeer in the morning. We would also enjoy a relaxing picnic along the river. And, much to my traveling partners delight, there would be no early morning duck sounds to awake them.
Next: Day Eight – So Easy A Caveman Could Do It, Please Don’t Write On The Bison, A Beautiful Drive, Down By The Lazy River, Cave Dwellers, Where Is That Damned Restaurant, A Final Walk Through Sarlat and Finding Pasta In The Land Of Foie Gras
Nov 20th, 2012, 07:10 AM
#85
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MaiTai, I am loving this! We were in Sarlat in 2011. We loved it so much, we are returning next September. We lost the sideview mirror of our car coming back from Loubressac. I will never forget that "WHOP" sound!
You are a master storyteller.
You are a master storyteller.
Nov 20th, 2012, 07:41 AM
#88
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The palace next to the church of Carennac has some interesting (restored) ceilings.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/mksfca/...57627132588561
http://www.flickr.com/photos/mksfca/...57627132588561
Nov 20th, 2012, 08:07 AM
#90
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We were lucky enough to arrive to Rocamadour just as the last tour bus left, the parking lot was almost empty, and all the shops were closed up for the day.
It wasn't bad at all, in fact we quite enjoyed it, since there was a restaurant open that served wine and snacks.
It wasn't bad at all, in fact we quite enjoyed it, since there was a restaurant open that served wine and snacks.
Nov 20th, 2012, 07:21 PM
#91
I've never forgotten Collonges-la-Rouge. We had arrived late in the afternoon and the way the sunlight hit the buildings was magical. Have some photos somewhere which I must dig out...tho they really don't do justice to the actual experience.
Nov 20th, 2012, 07:37 PM
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I love Collonges-la-Rouges. But at the end of the day it's about as far from a "real" place in that part of France as is possible. It's beautiful. The color of the stone structures is stunning. You wonder how you can have come across this field of red stone out of nowhere. But it's a fabricated place, one designed to suck in the pre-resonated tourist who wants to think he's "discovered" something unique and wonderful. It's a sham.
The town itself is wonderful. IF you "get" the actual town.
The place to really find out about the history of the region in Martel\.
The town itself is wonderful. IF you "get" the actual town.
The place to really find out about the history of the region in Martel\.
Nov 21st, 2012, 09:08 AM
#93
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Day Eight – So Easy A Caveman Could Do It, Please Don’t Write On The Bison, A Beautiful Drive, Down By The Lazy River, Cave Dwellers, Where Is That Damned Restaurant, A Final Walk Through Sarlat and Finding Pasta In The Land Of Foie Gras
It was our last day in the Dordogne, and we left for Font-de-Gaume about 9:30 on this sunny morning. Since our reservations were not until 11 a.m., and I did not feel like another beat down from a ticket taker, we stopped in the town of Les-Eyzies-de-Tayac for a bite to eat.
Although the pâtisserie felt like a sauna, we all sat down for our morning caffeine fix and obligatory pastry gorging. My caramel éclair was especially delicious.
Then it was on to the nearby Font-de-Gaume, but not before we missed the entrance. For such a famous place, it has a pretty small sign, or maybe it was just the sweat in my eyes from sitting in that hot pâtisserie.
It’s about a 400-meter walk with some lovely views from the ticket office to the cave entranc, and at our appointed hour, the guide showed up, told us to watch our heads and in to the cave we went. He also warned us, for the first of 50 times, not to touch anything.
To help preserve the caves, Font-de-Gaume only allows 150 visitors a day, and early reservations are a must. We met an American woman in Les-Eyzies-de-Tayac who tried to get reservations at both Font-de-Gaume and Lascoux II upon her arrival in the Dordogne, and there were no tours available while she was there. I had made our reservations moths ago.
I hesitate to write the following, but they say the truth shall set you free. Font-de-Gaume never gets any negative reviews. From some of the writings I have read, it seems that visiting here is almost a religious or mystical experience, so my following thoughts will not be received well by many, I fear.
Inside the cave our guide took our small group of ten to various stops along the way to show us the 15,000-year old cave art. I think he spent as much time positioning our small group by height at each stop as he did explaining what we were seeing. I thought at one point we were posing for our second grade picture.
And what were we seeing? Well, with his laser pointer, our guide pointed out outlines of cave drawings, and for many (well, most) you really have to use your imagination to make out the bison, horses, reindeer, rhinoceros and mammoths.
I have a pretty vivid imagination, but some of the animal outlines were nebulous at best and some were, in my opinion, virtually non-existent. In fact, some of the more hazy animal outlines he “showed” us reminded me of stories about people who see the Virgin Mary in a waffle. I did really like being inside the cave, however (I’m a sucker for caves), and the tour was fairly interesting, but it certainly does not rank anywhere near one of my favorite travel moments.
Tracy was also not overly enthralled with the tour either, although she was kind of mesmerized by our guide’s lantern that he deftly wiggled around to help highlight the outline of the hard-to-find animals.
Mary thought the Font-de-Gaume experience to be more worthwhile than Tracy and myself, but believed they could do a much better job in its presentation. She said that she felt a little more history regarding the cave would have made the tour better. I realize they don’t know very much about its origins and who painted these things, but our guide could have done a better job, in Mary's (and my) opinion).
Our resident bison aficionado, Kim, was the only one of us to give Font-de-Gaume two, big wooly mammoth thumbs up. He thought the presentation was interesting and said he could see more clearly the outlines of the animals. Maybe I should have skipped the Liqueur de Noix the night before.
The other three couples on our tour, however, were ecstatic about the tour…nauseatingly ecstatic. After every laser outline by our guide of these barely visible creatures, they would gush like teenage girls at a Justin Bieber concert.
Kim had some thoughts on our over-enthusiastic tour partners and my disdain for them: “Perhaps a contributing factor to your reaction could be the insipid gushing student-pet response of the other folks on the tour. I found it humorous that they gleefully tried to outdo the tour guide, and each other, by insisting that the drawings constituted great art possessing sophisticated three-dimensional, shaded interpretive features depicting Mans struggle against nature. It is unclear to me how they could distinguish between great art and Barney Rubble inspired graffiti in the midst of a dimly lit cave. My natural contrarian instincts compelled me to want to smack them and disagree with whatever they had to say.” Damn, maybe Kim should be writing these reports.
I know that my thoughts about Font-de-Gaume do not jive with 99% of the people who visit it, and I would never dissuade anyone from going. It just didn’t “wow” me, but that’s ok. For the record, I thought Citizen Kane was overrated, too.
After exiting the cave, we passed by a large sign in front of Font-de-Gaume that had a picture of a bison on it (one you could actually discern). Kim gave me a pen and said for me to give him a devious glance and pretend to write something on the bison picture. He then took a photo.
Upon returning home, Kim sent me a photo-shopped picture with the letters SDS and a partial U to make it look like I was writing the initials to San Diego State University on the bison inside the cave. (Note: I first met Kim when we were freshmen at San Diego State in 1970. It’s good to know that after 42 years our maturity level occasionally stoops to that level).
We hopped back in the car for a beautiful drive to a quaint, picturesque village (there seems to be a theme here), a place where Kim’s description of these types of towns certainly fit. “This place is felony cute,” he said. The town is Saint-Léon-sur-Vézère.
Walking through the town located on the Vézère River, we went searching for a restaurant, three of which were closed. No wonder the French stay skinny, there’s never a restaurant open to eat.
Then a thought occurred to me (hey, it happens). I remembered someone writing about a Dordogne town that would be a great place to picnic, and I thought I remembered that this was the place. I guess the Liqueur de Noix doesn’t kill as many brain cells as I thought.
When Kim and Mary went inside a little church, I walked down to the river and saw a spot where picnic benches were lined up. There was also a little store to purchase picnic provisions. Although I am a tough trip taskmaster, even I realized it was time to Stop and Smell the Fromage.
First, I walked along the riverbank where there was a picnic table complete with beautiful tablecloth (Sarlat Market Day flashback), plates, silverware, wine glasses and a British gentleman who was setting it all up. I asked the chap (I think when you talk about Brits, chap must be used), what was up, he said that this is a place he takes his small tours for a wonderful Dordogne experience. It was quite a spread.
Le déjeuner sur l’herbe was the one-stop shop for our makeshift picnic. Since we had stopped to smell the fromage, we decided to eat some, as well. We ordered a plate of various cheeses, charcuterie, bread and a large bowl of Vichyssoise, along with a bottle of vin Rouge to top it off.
We basked in the glorious sunshine (ok, that sounds way too romance novel-like) and had a great picnic. If you are looking for a bucolic spot in the Dordogne, Saint-Léon-sur-Vézère is where you want to spend some quality, relaxing Dordogne moments. Of course, our group can only relax for so long, so we paid the bill and off we went for our next stop of the day.
La Roque Saint-Christophe is a large prehistoric settlement that lies in between Les Eyzies and Saint-Léon-sur-Vézère. Carved out of a limestone cliff, La Roque Saint-Christophe gives you a glimpse of what life was like about 1,200 years ago. I could just see myself (in 812 AD) kicking back with a martini watching a flat screen with those terrific views behind me. Perhaps I had imbibed too much wine on our picnic.
People started living here about 15,000 years ago, and in the Middle Ages it became more of a fortress. Before we climbed the steep stairs to where the cave dwellers lived and had their settlement, we looked up to find a fake knight. It immediately reminded me of one of the French knights in Monty Python & the Holy Grail. Fortunately he didn’t say, “Your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries” nor did he taunt me a second time.
After climbing the stairs we visited all the cavities that contained, among other things, a slaughterhouse, a smokehouse, a church, a kitchen and numerous other interesting “rooms.” We enjoyed our visit to La Roque Saint-Christophe very much. The cost is 7.50€.
We thought about driving next to the Jardins du Manoir d'Eyrignac, but I could see the troops were not up to another adventure today, plus we have to leave a few things for our next journey to the Dordogne. There would also be a very long drive ahead of us tomorrow, so instead we headed back to the Villa des Consuls, and while the others rested, I went in search of the restaurant where we would dine tonight.
I thought I knew where L’Instant Delice was located (for those not following along, yes it was the place Tracy saw last night, but I didn’t remember that). I went to where I thought the restaurant was located off the main Sarlat drag, but alas, it wasn’t the place.
I went back to the room (unfortunately Tracy was napping or my following wild goose chase would not have occurred). I found the address for L’Instant Delice (5 Rue des Consuls) and proceeded to try and find it. I walked to the far edge of town, where I thought the street it was located would be found. Wrong!
I searched high and low (literally) for this restaurant, and it could not be found. Demoralized, I once again glanced at the town map. I then realized why I couldn’t find it. I was reading the map BACKWARDS. If I could have given myself “the look,” I would have.
As it turned out, the restaurant was located only about 100 yards from our hotel, and yes, it was the place we had visited last night where Tracy had asked, “Isn’t that the place you wanted to try?” You know, maybe I am an idiot.
In any event, I made 7:30 reservations outside on what turned out to be a spectacular autumn evening. This dinner was to vault to #1 on the trip up to this point.
I had the 13.90€ dinner that started with a walnut salad. What made this place so special was the next dish, a selection of fresh raviolis (smoked salmon, gorgonzola, mushroom, truffle, goat cheese along with tomato and basil). They were scrumptious, and so was the chocolate cake for dessert.
Tracy went for the walnut salad, Eggplant Parmesan and ice cream.
Kim was our “big spender” on this evening, opting for the 15.90€ dinner that included confit de canard, while Mary had a delicious cassoulet.
We walked off our dinner with one last spin through the town of Sarlat. We all agreed this was the perfect place to have our base in this neck of the Dordogne.
Then it was back to the hotel to pack for our long journey to Amboise in the Loire tomorrow, where it would take some extra footwork (and a little stroke of luck) to eventually find our next fantastic spot where we would spend the next three nights.
Next: Day Nine - Kim Takes The Wheel, Talley-Ho Talleyrand, The A-MAZE-ing Race, Taking The Scenic Route, Scouting Mission, Paving The Way, An Oasis In Amboise, Horsing Around and The “Ten-Minute” Walk
It was our last day in the Dordogne, and we left for Font-de-Gaume about 9:30 on this sunny morning. Since our reservations were not until 11 a.m., and I did not feel like another beat down from a ticket taker, we stopped in the town of Les-Eyzies-de-Tayac for a bite to eat.
Although the pâtisserie felt like a sauna, we all sat down for our morning caffeine fix and obligatory pastry gorging. My caramel éclair was especially delicious.
Then it was on to the nearby Font-de-Gaume, but not before we missed the entrance. For such a famous place, it has a pretty small sign, or maybe it was just the sweat in my eyes from sitting in that hot pâtisserie.
It’s about a 400-meter walk with some lovely views from the ticket office to the cave entranc, and at our appointed hour, the guide showed up, told us to watch our heads and in to the cave we went. He also warned us, for the first of 50 times, not to touch anything.
To help preserve the caves, Font-de-Gaume only allows 150 visitors a day, and early reservations are a must. We met an American woman in Les-Eyzies-de-Tayac who tried to get reservations at both Font-de-Gaume and Lascoux II upon her arrival in the Dordogne, and there were no tours available while she was there. I had made our reservations moths ago.
I hesitate to write the following, but they say the truth shall set you free. Font-de-Gaume never gets any negative reviews. From some of the writings I have read, it seems that visiting here is almost a religious or mystical experience, so my following thoughts will not be received well by many, I fear.
Inside the cave our guide took our small group of ten to various stops along the way to show us the 15,000-year old cave art. I think he spent as much time positioning our small group by height at each stop as he did explaining what we were seeing. I thought at one point we were posing for our second grade picture.
And what were we seeing? Well, with his laser pointer, our guide pointed out outlines of cave drawings, and for many (well, most) you really have to use your imagination to make out the bison, horses, reindeer, rhinoceros and mammoths.
I have a pretty vivid imagination, but some of the animal outlines were nebulous at best and some were, in my opinion, virtually non-existent. In fact, some of the more hazy animal outlines he “showed” us reminded me of stories about people who see the Virgin Mary in a waffle. I did really like being inside the cave, however (I’m a sucker for caves), and the tour was fairly interesting, but it certainly does not rank anywhere near one of my favorite travel moments.
Tracy was also not overly enthralled with the tour either, although she was kind of mesmerized by our guide’s lantern that he deftly wiggled around to help highlight the outline of the hard-to-find animals.
Mary thought the Font-de-Gaume experience to be more worthwhile than Tracy and myself, but believed they could do a much better job in its presentation. She said that she felt a little more history regarding the cave would have made the tour better. I realize they don’t know very much about its origins and who painted these things, but our guide could have done a better job, in Mary's (and my) opinion).
Our resident bison aficionado, Kim, was the only one of us to give Font-de-Gaume two, big wooly mammoth thumbs up. He thought the presentation was interesting and said he could see more clearly the outlines of the animals. Maybe I should have skipped the Liqueur de Noix the night before.
The other three couples on our tour, however, were ecstatic about the tour…nauseatingly ecstatic. After every laser outline by our guide of these barely visible creatures, they would gush like teenage girls at a Justin Bieber concert.
Kim had some thoughts on our over-enthusiastic tour partners and my disdain for them: “Perhaps a contributing factor to your reaction could be the insipid gushing student-pet response of the other folks on the tour. I found it humorous that they gleefully tried to outdo the tour guide, and each other, by insisting that the drawings constituted great art possessing sophisticated three-dimensional, shaded interpretive features depicting Mans struggle against nature. It is unclear to me how they could distinguish between great art and Barney Rubble inspired graffiti in the midst of a dimly lit cave. My natural contrarian instincts compelled me to want to smack them and disagree with whatever they had to say.” Damn, maybe Kim should be writing these reports.
I know that my thoughts about Font-de-Gaume do not jive with 99% of the people who visit it, and I would never dissuade anyone from going. It just didn’t “wow” me, but that’s ok. For the record, I thought Citizen Kane was overrated, too.
After exiting the cave, we passed by a large sign in front of Font-de-Gaume that had a picture of a bison on it (one you could actually discern). Kim gave me a pen and said for me to give him a devious glance and pretend to write something on the bison picture. He then took a photo.
Upon returning home, Kim sent me a photo-shopped picture with the letters SDS and a partial U to make it look like I was writing the initials to San Diego State University on the bison inside the cave. (Note: I first met Kim when we were freshmen at San Diego State in 1970. It’s good to know that after 42 years our maturity level occasionally stoops to that level).
We hopped back in the car for a beautiful drive to a quaint, picturesque village (there seems to be a theme here), a place where Kim’s description of these types of towns certainly fit. “This place is felony cute,” he said. The town is Saint-Léon-sur-Vézère.
Walking through the town located on the Vézère River, we went searching for a restaurant, three of which were closed. No wonder the French stay skinny, there’s never a restaurant open to eat.
Then a thought occurred to me (hey, it happens). I remembered someone writing about a Dordogne town that would be a great place to picnic, and I thought I remembered that this was the place. I guess the Liqueur de Noix doesn’t kill as many brain cells as I thought.
When Kim and Mary went inside a little church, I walked down to the river and saw a spot where picnic benches were lined up. There was also a little store to purchase picnic provisions. Although I am a tough trip taskmaster, even I realized it was time to Stop and Smell the Fromage.
First, I walked along the riverbank where there was a picnic table complete with beautiful tablecloth (Sarlat Market Day flashback), plates, silverware, wine glasses and a British gentleman who was setting it all up. I asked the chap (I think when you talk about Brits, chap must be used), what was up, he said that this is a place he takes his small tours for a wonderful Dordogne experience. It was quite a spread.
Le déjeuner sur l’herbe was the one-stop shop for our makeshift picnic. Since we had stopped to smell the fromage, we decided to eat some, as well. We ordered a plate of various cheeses, charcuterie, bread and a large bowl of Vichyssoise, along with a bottle of vin Rouge to top it off.
We basked in the glorious sunshine (ok, that sounds way too romance novel-like) and had a great picnic. If you are looking for a bucolic spot in the Dordogne, Saint-Léon-sur-Vézère is where you want to spend some quality, relaxing Dordogne moments. Of course, our group can only relax for so long, so we paid the bill and off we went for our next stop of the day.
La Roque Saint-Christophe is a large prehistoric settlement that lies in between Les Eyzies and Saint-Léon-sur-Vézère. Carved out of a limestone cliff, La Roque Saint-Christophe gives you a glimpse of what life was like about 1,200 years ago. I could just see myself (in 812 AD) kicking back with a martini watching a flat screen with those terrific views behind me. Perhaps I had imbibed too much wine on our picnic.
People started living here about 15,000 years ago, and in the Middle Ages it became more of a fortress. Before we climbed the steep stairs to where the cave dwellers lived and had their settlement, we looked up to find a fake knight. It immediately reminded me of one of the French knights in Monty Python & the Holy Grail. Fortunately he didn’t say, “Your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries” nor did he taunt me a second time.
After climbing the stairs we visited all the cavities that contained, among other things, a slaughterhouse, a smokehouse, a church, a kitchen and numerous other interesting “rooms.” We enjoyed our visit to La Roque Saint-Christophe very much. The cost is 7.50€.
We thought about driving next to the Jardins du Manoir d'Eyrignac, but I could see the troops were not up to another adventure today, plus we have to leave a few things for our next journey to the Dordogne. There would also be a very long drive ahead of us tomorrow, so instead we headed back to the Villa des Consuls, and while the others rested, I went in search of the restaurant where we would dine tonight.
I thought I knew where L’Instant Delice was located (for those not following along, yes it was the place Tracy saw last night, but I didn’t remember that). I went to where I thought the restaurant was located off the main Sarlat drag, but alas, it wasn’t the place.
I went back to the room (unfortunately Tracy was napping or my following wild goose chase would not have occurred). I found the address for L’Instant Delice (5 Rue des Consuls) and proceeded to try and find it. I walked to the far edge of town, where I thought the street it was located would be found. Wrong!
I searched high and low (literally) for this restaurant, and it could not be found. Demoralized, I once again glanced at the town map. I then realized why I couldn’t find it. I was reading the map BACKWARDS. If I could have given myself “the look,” I would have.
As it turned out, the restaurant was located only about 100 yards from our hotel, and yes, it was the place we had visited last night where Tracy had asked, “Isn’t that the place you wanted to try?” You know, maybe I am an idiot.
In any event, I made 7:30 reservations outside on what turned out to be a spectacular autumn evening. This dinner was to vault to #1 on the trip up to this point.
I had the 13.90€ dinner that started with a walnut salad. What made this place so special was the next dish, a selection of fresh raviolis (smoked salmon, gorgonzola, mushroom, truffle, goat cheese along with tomato and basil). They were scrumptious, and so was the chocolate cake for dessert.
Tracy went for the walnut salad, Eggplant Parmesan and ice cream.
Kim was our “big spender” on this evening, opting for the 15.90€ dinner that included confit de canard, while Mary had a delicious cassoulet.
We walked off our dinner with one last spin through the town of Sarlat. We all agreed this was the perfect place to have our base in this neck of the Dordogne.
Then it was back to the hotel to pack for our long journey to Amboise in the Loire tomorrow, where it would take some extra footwork (and a little stroke of luck) to eventually find our next fantastic spot where we would spend the next three nights.
Next: Day Nine - Kim Takes The Wheel, Talley-Ho Talleyrand, The A-MAZE-ing Race, Taking The Scenic Route, Scouting Mission, Paving The Way, An Oasis In Amboise, Horsing Around and The “Ten-Minute” Walk
Nov 21st, 2012, 11:34 AM
#94
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OMG you make me laugh! You better watch your back or you could be hanged, drawn, and quartered for your irreverence towards Font de Gaume. Our reaction to Pech Merle was somewhat likes yours to F de G. I do believe the tour guide is EVERYTHING. A good one makes all the difference in the world. And your tour guide should have told the others to "put a sock in it."
Remember TPAYT and her reaction to Gouffre de Padirac? I am debating whether to add it to my itinerary due to the different experiences....
You are definitely too, too much. Have a Happy Thanksgiving.
Remember TPAYT and her reaction to Gouffre de Padirac? I am debating whether to add it to my itinerary due to the different experiences....
You are definitely too, too much. Have a Happy Thanksgiving.
Nov 21st, 2012, 12:43 PM
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Our resident bison aficionado, Kim, was the only one of us to give Font-de-Gaume two, big wooly mammoth thumbs up
For the next visit to the Dordogne, try Rouffignac:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rouffignac_Cave
Unless the policy has changed, Font de Gaume maintains a few free slots every day. One has to be there at least half-an-hour before opening to get one.
For the next visit to the Dordogne, try Rouffignac:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rouffignac_Cave
Unless the policy has changed, Font de Gaume maintains a few free slots every day. One has to be there at least half-an-hour before opening to get one.
Nov 21st, 2012, 04:18 PM
#100
It's funny, I couldn't remember whether I had visited Font de Gaume or Peche Merle when I went to the Dordogne, but whichever it was, we loved it. However (big however), we could only get reservations for a French language tour. We had a tiny woman tour guide who spoke no English, of course, and we didn't expect her to. There were also some young Spanish--or maybe they were Italian? I can't recall--people on our tour. Someone in their group would whisper a Spanish (or Italian?) translation of what the guide was saying. Since my Spangliano is better than my Frengliano, I eavesdropped on the Spanish translation and then re-translated into English to my friend. Of course this made the whole experience more fun, and all of us--French, English and Spanish/Italian speakers, worked together to understand what we were seeing.
Luckily, no one was in a state of rapture.
The tour guide--and the tour group--always make a big difference for me.
Waiting semi-patiently for the Loire.
Luckily, no one was in a state of rapture.
The tour guide--and the tour group--always make a big difference for me.
Waiting semi-patiently for the Loire.
