November 28th

28^th November Saint Cyprien and environs

Another fresh and fog bound morning but we had an itinerary that had to be followed so after breakfast we headed about 14kms north east to a grotte Hilary had rated as her number one choice from a pamphlet we had. It was called Les Grottes du Roc de Cazelle  and is billed as the cliff cave city. It is actually very well done, though the fierce cold detracted from the occasion for me, I suspect I was near hypothermic by the time we had finished the self- guided tour of the area. Because the area had been settled for so long (55,000 plus years ago (Neanderthal man)) the first part of the display was focussed on the evolution of man from homo-erectus through to homosapiens, with model skulls showing the differences between the races?  There were 32 sets made up, very well displayed in the bush, and we had a very good informative English guide/information booklet which went through the displays as well. There were displays about the food eaten, including hunting styles, the clothes worn and made from the animals, gathering of seeds, nuts, fungi etc the different animals in existence then in the area (reindeer, bears, wolves), others showing the painting done on rocks by the people from as long ago as the Upper Paleolithic Period (not the real thing, but replicated drawings and models in the act (so to speak).

There were mammoths hanging out in parts of the forest, wild boar, lions, lynx, all sorts in caves and bush, watching us walk by. After a few hundred metres and about 12 displays I guess, we entered a cave which had been used thousands of years ago, and then again in the middle ages when it was used more as a fortified village. Apparently it was virtually impregnable as the only way in was from the front, cliff face, which could be well guarded and all those nearing the area observed. The caves were about 25 metres or so at least (at a guess) above the valley floor  and the walls of course thicker and stronger than anything man made, so they made a great safe (if a little cramped and cold) dwelling for the inhabitants. Once out of that cave area the walk continued through more forest, gradually winding back down to the valley floor where there was a small farm area with a couple of cold and hungry looking black pigs (we fed them some celery we found in the vegetable garden and a few sugar lumps we had in our pockets, usually reserved for horses or donkeys, but happily consumed by the pigs), four very woolly sheep with long curved horns, a turkey, some hens, some geese and a very lonely and sad looking ferret who came running up to  the wire of his cage when we approached, looking hopeful for either food or company , neither of which we could supply.

The last part of the exhibition was the house that the most recent inhabitants of the caves dwelt in. It was inhabited by a farmer and his wife (it didn’t mention children) whose farm was nearby. They left in 1966, and the cave is preserved as it was then. One quite large room, with whitewashed walls,  not at all grand, but functional. I wouldn’t want to live there for very long at all, and certainly not in any season other than the height of summer. A few metres further on was another small cave (read cell) about 2 metres by 1.5 metres which was the spare room used by Uncle ??Tom I think it was, one of the couple’s uncle’s, when he came to stay. As I said to Di, I bet he didn’t come often!!! His bed was only about 1.45 metres long, and had a very lumpy mattress on it. There was nothing else in the room, and to get up to it (the room) he would have had to climb 4 very steep, uneven and narrow steps, very dangerous at night, especially if he’d had a wine before bed!!! Amazing to think it was in my lifetime that they were living like that, but now I think about it, there are still troglodytes in many cities in Spain and France, who I imagine don’t have many more facilities now, just different to what I would want to have as my permanent home. (Admittedly the farming couple’s house had  about ten times the space of our campervan).

Once we had finished here we went back to the campervan and sat in the car park (inside the truck), eating hot soup and fresh bread, and drinking hot cups of tea and anything else we could lay our hands on to help us warm up. It was bitterly cold outside, damp cold, with grey sky and an icy chill. Once defrosted we drove about 10 kms to our next destination, this being Di’s number one pick, the Maison ... Reignac This was another cave house, but nothing like the one we had just visited. This had been owned by "The Billy Goat" a medieval Lord basically it was a flash front on a cave in a cliff, with three internal storeys and then extra caves up higher still which were part of the property, and connected by outside stairs to the dwelling, but not really part of it. Again there was an excellent guide-book in English (though a little out of date) which took you through each room, but also gave a lot of historical information about life in those times for the lords but also their staff, and knights. Pretty hideous I gather if you weren’t one of the gentry, and even for the gentry by our standards, with sons being sent from home as very young boys so they didn’t become “soft” I guess, and the life of potential knights sounded pretty hard and cold (no motherly or fatherly love I mean).

We did a lot of our reading of the history while standing over a large not quite roaring, but very welcome open fire, in the main room. It was designed so that a natural chimney carried the smoke out of the house, and the heat managed to warm not only that room, but other walls of the servants quarters up stairs (boy they would have needed it too as their furnishings and possessions were sparse to say the least). …………………

Despite lingering by the open-fire, by the time we were ready to head on, or back towards St Cyprien and our camp site, we were all really cold again. Thankfully the heater in the truck kicked in after a few kms and so we started to thaw, but instead of stopping in a small village part way back for a coffee and afternoon tea, we went directly back to St Cyprien where we boiled the jug and had a hot cup of tea instead.

A bit later, about 4.30 I felt the need for some exercise and the desire to see the village we were staying two nights in, so I went for a wander up the hill. There was hardly any life, a tabac was open, so I got a postcard, and the tourist info centre was the only other building showing any signs of life, so I popped in there and got a city walk brochure. I walked about 30-45 minutes up hills and through narrow lanes reading about the history of the town and its buildings (when I was in the right place), before curtailing the walk and going back to the truck.

We had dinner, and later sat reading, stitching, doing the book, looking at brochures, and drinking tea and eating French sweet treats I had picked up at the patisserie, on my walk.

November 27th

27^th November Sarlat to St Cyprien in the Dordogne

Another foggy grey day when the bitterness gets into the bones and you wish for significantly more natural insulation, but we warmed the truck up before we left, filled water bottles risking the loss of fingers through frostbite or just plain snapping off if knocked against a hard surface. We didn’t have very far to drive to our first destination, we were on the road by just after 10 and drove the 12 or so kms to Beynac et Cazenac  another cute little medieval village which has a wonderful chateau up on a cliff top, overlooking the Dordogne River. Unfortunately the chateau was closed for the season, but we had a nice time exploring the steep little streets, and up at the chateau it was possible to look around a bit at the outside parts, and of course admire the views down over the village and valley.

We had a cup of coffee which really was necessary to defrost, fingers and noses truly at risk, despite possum merino gloves and scarves (plus other clothes of course).

We had soup and fresh bread back at the truck before driving on to Castelnaud yet another grand chateau of the area, again perched cliff-top both both the beauty of the view and for defence purposes. The Chateau de Castelnaud was altered during the 100 year war (1337-1453) and made impregnable at that stage. Apart from being a cool castle in itself, the major attraction was that it has an impressive display of medieval weapons both small arms and the huge wooden sling shot types called, the bombard, mangonel and trebuchet are on display in the courtyard. Unfortunately at this time of the year the usual displays and demonstrations aren’t going, but we did get to see several excellent videos which demonstrated the use of the trebuchet amongst other things, and gave great information (English sub titles). They said it was really effective compared to previous weapons for penetrating the thick defensive walls of the castles, but that they could only sling 2 shots an hour when operated by skilled users!!! I thought no wonder the war lasted a hundred years (or more if you see the dates).  In fact on one upper wall there was a pock in the stonework, probably not more than six inches deep and a foot round and next to it a sign which said “mark left by a German mortar strike in 1944” (well it was actually in French, but that’s what it meant). I don’t know how far away it was fired from, I presume down in the valley at least, but it hardly made a mark. (I wonder who was in the castle actually, at that time, and defending it???? And why the Germans didn’t get any more shots off???).

From here (it didn’t open until 2 o’clock and closed again at 5 at this time of year), and so did the next place we wanted to visit, but which was only a couple of minutes’ drive away.  On our way down the road to Castelnaud we had noticed a large shop/museum/gallery/warehouse that had crystals on display and for sale, but as it was open until 6.30, we thought we would visit after we had done our speedy tour of The hanging Gardens of Marqueyssac.

We arrived at the gardens at 3.30, the woman at the counter suggested we walk along the clifftop path to the belvedere (we had no idea what that was, but took her advice). The sun had come out in full now, the cloud having finally been penetrated and then quite quickly burnt off once the heat had arrived. When I say heat, it is a relative term only, certainly not the gorgeous heat of the Mediterranean coast in summer, but I guess the temperature probably got up towards 17 or 18 degrees whereas for much of the last couple of days it would have been single digits, and closer to zero than 10. (Put it this way yesterday, 29^th (I’m writing this retrospectively) we were ambling around markets in a little village and the thermometer above a pharmacy said 10 degrees, and it felt positively balmy compared to other days).

I digress. I think we saw three other people in the gardens when we were there, it not being the height of summer, the place was nearly dead, which is a pity because at this time of year I suspect these gardens are more beautiful than at any other time of the year. They are the French style rather than English, with structure and design of shrubs and trees the basis rather than flowers and so of course the autumn colours were exquisite.  The brochure describes them as “romantic and picturesque” , with “more than six kilometres of shaded paths bordered by 150,000 (who counted them I wonder) hand pruned box trees a hundred years old”. The ones bordering the paths are the standard squared off shape but at the beginning of the garden, around the chateau they are arranged in curved beds (not round, but squiggly) and the plants within have been rounded off too so they resemble an x-ray of a bowel. Hopefully a photo will help you visualise.

We walked along to the belvedere and discovered it was in fact a high view point, 130 metres above the river, and afforded views along the river valley to a wee village called La Roque Gageac which from here looked like Lilliput. Further on, there was a large set of binoculars mounted on a pole and so we could spy on the residents but unfortunately no one was doing anything untoward that we could see.

We returned to the beginning of the gardens along red, brown and gold leaf carpeted paths, detouring when we could to see little buildings or water features on our way. We could have spent a lot longer there, but because we are able to power walk, I think we got a pretty comprehensive view of it all in our 90 minutes.

We back-tracked slightly and returned to the crystal place when we left here. Hilary and I went in and looked around. There are some amazing naturally occurring things in the world of rocks and minerals aren’t there? Including huge amethyst rocks that have been cut open to reveal their beauty. We scuffled around the edges of the piles outside and found some small chips of amethyst and gorgeous dark blue knobbly stones which we picked up as mementoes, before buying a couple of small things for Di for Christmas.

From here we wound our way around the thin country roads of the Dordogne to Saint Cyprien a slightly larger village where we had picked out a camping spot at the foot of the hill which housed the village.

It was very quiet here apart from the bell in the tower which we imagined was operated hourly by an old and shaky bell ringer who fell asleep periodically between chimes because it was not a smooth and regular tolling which occurred especially at 5 a.m.  At 7 p.m. each night he seemed to come alive in a rather manic fashion though, and after a spluttery  start would frenetically pull on the rope until at least one hundred tolls had pealed out. We don’t have any idea why this would be, it may be one -of those unanswered questions which will stay with us for eternity.

               

November 26th

November 26^th Figeac to Sarlat la Caneda

If we thought the light fog made for a cold day, today was a real test. It was thick with fog this morning and very damp and cold. We wanted to do a couple of things in the village before heading off to our next stop, so we headed down the hill again. We had forgotten that Saturday was market day, but when we got to the main square we were reminded. There were stalls everywhere, and not just at this square but along the streets to every square in the vicinity. 

We mooched around looking at fresh fruit and vegetables, cheeses, meat, honey, olives, sweet things and other delicious (and some not so) foody things, and then at another set of stalls, clothes, and then some “antiquey” items. It wasn’t too long before our coffee shop beckoned us though, and we went in and had hot coffee and a basket full of baguette with a selection of  jams, and butter. We skyped my neice, Kate, in NZ much to the amazement of the barman, but it was so noisy we couldn’t communicate too well so we gave up quite soon.

After coffee we went to a few shops we had been waiting for to open, before going back up to the truck and readying ourselves for departure.

It wasn’t a long way to Sarlat, more beautiful countryside, and it did involve back tracking to Gourdon, but we took different roads to on our way over so it wasn’t a problem. Sarlat is actually only about 15kms from Gourdon, so we arrived early afternoon, and though it was still bitterly cold we decided to go into the town/village straight away as being Saturday the markets were happening, or rather the hardy ones were still operating in the gloom and damp. These are different in a way from other markets, lots of clothes rather than food, though I suspect had we been there in the morning they would have been present. We browsed along the stalls which lined the main street, stopped to buy a couple of things for Christmas presents, looked in Christmas themed windows, and fine food shops, but also admired the buildings and architecture.

We made our way to the tourist information centre where for 50 cents we obtained a route to walk around the old town and historical information about Sarlat. This we did, a really lovely little town and quite different style to most we have seen. ………………………………………..

Hilary in a squinch (our new bananagrams word)

Cemetery or glasshouse manufacturer? The former.

After we had done most of the circuit we decided we deserved a hot coffee and a wee nibble, so Hilary had an orange juice and a crepe du sucre, while Di and I had coffee and shared a piece of chestnut cake with chocolate icing. It wasn’t as good as it sounds, though I may be tempted to try something similar at home, though not so dry!!! The coffee was nice, but the whole affair was significantly over priced for the amount and quality, 15 euro which would have bought twice as much in Spain,(not that they do the patisserie thing like the French), and with better service and manners from the staff.

We went back to our camping area which we should have paid for (only 5 euro a night) but the ticket machine and barrier arms were broken, so we couldn’t pay (had we really wanted to), and made dinner and settled in for a quiet night of word games, and then bed.