Two days of roaming through the southwest, Dordogne, Perigord and Gascony, mid-February 2009
A few hours after we left home in Saint Jean de Luz, near the Spanish border, it was lunchtime, so we stopped to eat in a country town called Marmande.
It was a trucker's restaurant where the speciality is wild game, so we had civette de biche - venison stew.
There was also a plateau de charcuterie, which meant a large basket laden with sausages and paté. The huge things with the veins are local boudin, black pudding - in other words, blood sausage. The tiny waitress nearly collapsed under the weight when she brought it to our table! We were told to eat all we wanted but only had some rillettes and saucisson.
We reached the town of Périgeux at the end of day, with its lovely medieval streets...
...on the banks of the River L'Isle
Near the ancient ramparts, some school girls on the way home
The Cathedral of Saint-Front was the main reason for my visit. It was a smallish medieval church until in the mid-19th century it was completely rebuilt in the local Byzantine style, with domed roofs. The architect, Paul Labadie, was so widely acclaimed for his efforts that 25 years later he was commissioned to design the great Sacré Coeur basilica, atop the hill of Montmartre in Paris, which was even taller and with even bigger domes. Although Sacré Coeur is often said to imitate Saint Mark's of Venice or the Tajmahal, in fact it was inspired, like Saint-Front, by the medieval churches of Périgord.
Nowadays these 19th century "restorations" of medieval churches are blamed for having disfigured many precious buildings, replacing them with over-sized, lifeless pastiches that resemble gigantic wedding cakes. I agree, but they have a charm of their own, especially since they have become such a permanent part of the French architectural landscape. Several sublime exceptions are Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris, and the walled city of Carcassonne in the south of France, both the work of architect Viollet-le-Duc who led the Gothic revival 150 years ago.
The Cathedral of Périgeux was rebuilt under the reign of Napoleon III, the nephew of Bonaparte. Labadie created at the same time five brass chandeliers which were hung in Notre Dame of Paris for the Emperor's wedding. Later they were brought to Périgeux and now give a little colour to its otherwise gloomy Cathedral.
We arrived in Sarlat that evening, and the next morning set off to visit the town. It is said to be the best preserved late-medieval city in France, all built in tawny-coloured stone. It was President De Gaulle and his Cultural Minister the glamorous adventurer and author André Malraux who saved Sarlat and other ancient towns and monuments from ruin and demolition.
The gabled house is Sarlat's most famous monument. It is called Maison de la Boétie, for the owner, who was a politician and humanist and the dearest friend of the Renaissance philosopher Michel de Montaigne. Montaigne memorably said, when after La Boétie's death he was asked why they were friends, "Because it was him, and it was me". What better explanation could he have found?
Most of the houses in Sarlat date from the 14th and 15th centuries
It was a cold morning and the market was setting up its stands for the day.
ince foie gras is the main product of Sarlat, the townsfolk gratefully created a monument to geese!
Another famous product is truffles, and there is a sort of stock exchange in town just for people who want to sell and buy quantities of this very expensive mushroom. The man going in the door must be on his way to sell the truffles he found the day before.
This peculiar tower near the town graveyard is called La Lanterne des Morts, the lantern of the dead. In some medieval cemeteries there was a tower - in fact a lighthouse - at the top of which a fire burned to guide the souls of the dead towards heaven. I have described these "lanterns" in my trip to Charentes. The one in Sarlat doesn't have any openings at the top for the light to shine through so it may in fact simply be a mausoleum.
After Sarlat we headed east to Rocamadour, a spectacular village built on the side of a cliff in the Lot department.
From Sarlat, we travelled westward along the Dordogne River, viewing the many lovely castles and manours...
...and the magnificent town of La Roque-Gageac...
...with its houses built against, and into, the towering cliffs
this is duck and goose land, and all for the livers!
At the end of the second day, we headed south and home...
...stopping for the night in the town of Condom, in the Gers department.
The hotel we stayed in was on the riverbank, and we could see our car (the grey one in the middle at the bottom of the picture) from the window of the room. The next morning was misty over the river...
The hotel restaurant was excellent. For supper I had a dish of salmon and leeks baked au gratin...
...which August shared with me
...and Wijjie had a delicious cassoulet of beans and smoked meat, which she shared with both of us.
.For dessert, an apple croustade, beautifully presented
Wijjie heading for the car next morning after paying the bill (quite reasonable for the quality of the fare, I thought). Our room is the one with the shutters open on the far right.
I confess that the name of the town intrigued us, although we were soon informed that it has nothing to do with the English word. It comes from a mixture of the Latin for count and domain, it seems. But the idea was funny, so on the way out of town Wijjie and August posed for a picture, intended to show you what happens when you say farewell to Condom!
we wandered about on the country roads of Gascony, rather than take the motorway down the coast
not much is left of this barn, but it was once a masterwork of carpentry!
there are many villages like this, and each one has its charm
this car display room has a name which in French means "you will find a satisfactory automobile here" but could in English be construed to mean something quite different!
This winter a terrible gale destroyed many trees in southwestern France, as can be seen by the state of this safety barrier
These curious water towers, called chateaux d'eau, can be seen throughout the French countryside. They are not mushroom-shaped for rain catchment purposes, as you might think, but simply to hold the water as high up as possible, because their sole purpose is to create sufficient pressure to distribute water to the nearby homes. A small pump keeps the tower constantly full so that there is always enough pressure when it comes down, whereas pumping constant pressure by machines is much more costly. The towers have exactly the same purpose as those strange barrels on stilts which stand on Manhattan rooftops, now such a familiar part of the cityscape that no one wants to remove them. If you don't believe me, just check Wikipedia!
Sunday morning after Mass in a country town...
...called Grenade Sur l'Adour, although, we discovered, it has nothing to do with the Spanish city of Granada (also Grenade in French). Another toponymical disappointment for the day!
in a restaurant there we were served the local boudin - once more, black pudding - with a slice of Bayonne ham on top, in a dish of tasty tomato purée. I broke the doctor's rules on this one, I must confess...
We were back home by the end of day, full of good food and glowing memories. My favourite time of year for travelling, at least in France, is in winter when the sun is shining. That's why I always have my eye on the weather page - whenever I see a few good days coming up, I get everyone into the car and hit the road...