Arriving at Le Bugue for a Week

It was time to turn Tommy back on and head to Le Bugue – we needed to be there before 4.00 pm to meet our hosts for the next week.
The drive from Rocamadour took us pass the outskirts of Sarlat entering Le Bugue from the east. We travelled down its narrow main street with hardly enough room for two oncoming large trucks to pass each other. Many of the shops were boarded up and the general impression was that Le Bugue had seen better days. This was not the case as we would later learn. Le Bugue had attractions of its own but also it was a great spot to circle out from as we would discover over the following week.

As you can see from the sign post, Le Bugue offered many outgoing roads to villages to explore.
On this particular day, there was a Brocante in town, but that will come in a later post.

Sue had reservations about being on the village outskirts rather than in the village proper. We were probably no more than maybe two kms out in what seemed like a newer development area but the cottage was old and beautifully renovated. It had a serene feeling once you entered the front gate. It had some land around giving a feeling of space and openess.

Although the old stone, high roofed building had two levels, we didn't have access to the upper level and no one lived there. We never discovered its purpose. Our hosts Sonia and Minko were from the Nederlands and had settled in Le Bugue several years back. They were the perfect hosts and we discovered how nice they were as Sue's birthday drew closer.
Just a quick word about our past hosts on previous trips - we have been fortunate to have met the most wonderful people along the way. In Italy and throughout France. Some are locals and others from other countries having settled in France. All seem so happy in their lifestyle.

Our home for the next full week.

And when Sue saw the kitchen, the fact that we were not actually in the village wasn’t an issue anymore. Sonia and Minko greeted us at the property to show us around and introduce us to the home we were to spend the next week. It had two generous bedrooms, a huge living area that flowed to the open kitchen which was once the cow shed. Just beyond the kitchen was a great al fresco area where we spent several sunny afternoons sipping on a glass of wine or three, well maybe even four but who is counting. We never did!!!
Occasionally during our stay we would purchase the local Foie Gras, the liver of force fed geese or duck. It is believed the technique originated as far back as 2500 bc with the Egyptians. The practice maybe contoversial but the produce itself is too die for, and you may if you eat too much.

Sue enjoys relaxing with a book before cooking up a storm in the kitchen - the great lump of rock under the kitchen bench was part of the old animal enclosure. Just out the back door is where we would enjoy the sunny afternoons drinking local wine with cheese, pate or foie gras which the area is well known for.

Another view of the kitchen where we would purchase the produce of the region
to enjoy in our comfortable cottage.



Many a bottle of wine was enjoyed here.



And just our luck - this early Citroen truck was parked outside the local Cave (wine cellar) where we bought most of our wine over the week in Le Bugue.

After being greeted by our hosts, it was time to drive into the village for provisions for the night's meal plus the ongoing provisions for the next few days. Sue made a beeline for the local Boucherie and made friends straight away with the local Butcher. She does that. He was quite a gregarious soul and happy to offer Sue much advise on his produce, even to hints on how to prepare and cook it.

The bridge at Le Bugue was under renovation with a widening process for pedestrian traffic. The existing walkway was so narrow that you could feel the air turbulence from cars passing closely by.

Over the next week we would discover the many Cafes
hidden away in the side streets and along the riverbank.

We found a local Café that had wifi so we could communicate with home and I could stay in touch with work plus I found the local Bike Shop across the road. The proprietor stood in the doorway with a cigarette hanging from his mouth. He must have been well into his seventies. He had a smile for me. Unfortunately though, me with no French and he with no English, it was frustrating not to communicate with this gentleman. I fantasized that he must have had a rich racing history in his past. I imagined he must have ridden with the best and competed in many great classics and of course Le Tour.
In reality, he was probably just a local rider that decided on his retirement, to open the bike shop in his home town. I’ll never know the truth due to my lack of the language. He did however take an interest in my single speed bike that would take me to many wonderful rides in the local area.

My local Bike Shop. The owner watches the village go about its daily life.
I wish I had the opportunity to listen to some of his memories.



We were told that this was one of the oldest businesses in Le Bugue - the local Cobbler.

It was time to leave the village and relax back at the cottage for our first night at Le Bugue in the Dordogne. Like Cahors, Le Bugue sits on the bend or horseshoe of a river.

The Vezere river zig-zags it way through the region and we crossed it many times, in fact, we crossed every time on our way to and from the cottage to the village. The Vezere passed our cottage not more than 200 metres away. It was peaceful where we were and it was time to relax on this first night in Le Bugue.

Yep, that's me relaxing with a glass of wine after the drive from
Cahors to Rocamadour and finally to Le Bugue for a full week.

Next week we branch out to the surrounding district to some of the amazing sights of the Dordogne and along the Vezere River.

A Week in Le Bugue and the Dordogne

Leaving Vers and Cahor, we felt that we had not experienced all the delights that the area had to offer but surely that's the case, wherever you travel. You just suck in a bit to cherish for your memory. Something to talk about to your friends or to reminince with your travelling partner.

Not wanting to take the motorways, we turned on Tommy and typed Rocamadour into our GPS. Surely with no more than 70 kms, Tommy couldn’t do much damage to our driving confidence. How wrong we were. This GPS has one wicked sense of humour. I’m sure he took us the long way with more goat tracks to be negotiated. Maybe goat tracks were appropriate as Rocamadour gives its name to the cheese produced from the milk of the small goats of the region.
As we came closer to our destination, the roads became smaller and the campervans became larger, or so it seemed. Tommy took us through forests, into valleys and over cliff tops. On entering the small village of L’Hospitalet, we were both in need of a good strong coffee before venturing into the famous destination of religious pilgrimage to kings and noblemen over the centuries. As we sat in the morning sun sipping on our coffee, the view across the Alzou valley from our café was breathtaking. There was Rocamadour clinging to the cliffside for centuries past.

Rocamour sits on the cliff face of the Alzou Valley as it has since the 1100s.

As Sue took a visit to back room of the café, I walked across the road for a better view of this village perched on the steep rocky cliff. Two cyclists just happened by, so I made an approach and struck up a conversation, that’s what I do. They were doing a cycling tour through the Dordogne with their whole world in the pannier bags of their bikes. We actually saw them earlier as we drove through the valley and saw them climbing up to the plateau we now stood on. How brave they were and fit as well.

Looking up towards the Chateau that once was the place of a fort to protect Rocamadour.

We decided it was time to explore Rocamadour, so we drove across the plateau to the car park at the Chateau where once there was a fort that protected the village below. Rocamadour sits perched on the cliffs rising 100 metres above the valley floor. The village sits in the valley and slightly rises up the cliff face to the “Grand Stairway” which then leads to a group of chapels. We decided it would be easier to use the Funicular rather than trudge the many very steep steps upwards, so we took in the many chapels and the Basilica.

Legend claims that Saint Amadour, a hermit Christian lived here. His undecayed body was supposedly found in a grave site during 1166. Nearby the statue of the Black Virgin was discovered in a grotto under the cliff ledge. Today the Chapel of Notre Dame houses the statue of the Black Virgin which is carved from the trunk of Walnut tree and stands 68cm tall. The guide book we bought claims that of the 300 ancient black virgin statues known in the West, 150 are in France.

We wandered through chapels, up and down steps taking in the amazing buildings and sculptured arches and doorways, not really understanding the meaning or significance of each building. Yet, we were in awe of how these buildings clung to the rock face over the many centuries.

Descending down the very steep stairway to the village below, we were faced with the crassness of “souvenir world”. We tried to close our eyes to the many souvenir shops and imagine the buildings as they might once had been, homes to the villagers going about their daily life. I guess the residents still do, but their life today is tourism. I did buy some great postcards and a great little personal souvenir totally out of context of where we were. I have this little toy cyclist sitting on my desk while I write this which came from Rocamadour. (I can hear you say - how is he going to get cycling into this post).......

We walked the full length of the main road of the village (maybe there was just the one road) and back again before returning to the Furnicular that took us to the very top of the cliff face and back to our car.

Just being Tourists - why not on this perfect spring day in a wonderful part of France.

It was time to find Le Bugue and our villa for the next week. It would be relaxing to kick back and call someplace home for a while.

My little toy cyclist wears the French National colours as he rides through the Dordogne.
He sits on my desk as I write this and we share some memories together on thos past rides.
Tell you more over the next few weeks. Not quite sure if he should be Poulidor or Anquitel.
I think the French might have had a special connection to Pou Pou.

Next week - Our home in Le Bugue.

Cahors on the Lot River

Before moving on from the Lot, we thought a day in Cahors would be a must. It was only a short drive from Vers and before we knew it, we were entering the main street and thinking, Cahors, it doesn't look all that old at first sight yet it has a 2000 year history. It sits on a horse shoe bend of the Lot River offering protection from its enemies. Its as if the river is hugging the city like a protecting mother while the cliffs rise steeply to the opposite side like a father overlooking his child.

The city has many features worthy of more than a one day visit.

Cahors' famous son Leon Gambetta was born here. Gambetta was instrumental in bringing France back to recovery after the Prussian war in 1870. The main boulevard with its plane trees either side and cafes is named in his honour. When we arrived at Cahors there was much construction work happening, well not really, as I think it may have been stopped having discovered some Roman remains. A statue of Leon Gambetta stood overlooking his boulevard just in front of the square. He stands leaning with one hand resting on a cannon as he looks out upon the shoppers and tourists.


Leon Gambetta shows the way - much construction work when we were there.
Not my photo - taken from Google images but seems to be taken at the same time when we were there.

  Cahors has been producing wine since those Roman times and we did try a few bottles of the dusky, dark and heavy Cahors red. Its said that the first vines were planted here in 50 BC. It reminded me of the wines from the Rutherglen district of northern Victoria where the big full bodied Shiraz and Cabernet wines are produced. Many years ago in Australia we could buy these wines under the name of Hermitage but the French put a stop to calling wines by such generic descriptions outside their own districts. The most famous of the Australian "Heritage" wines was Penfolds Grange Hermitage now known just Grange today.
The wine of Cahors (known as the black wine) is made from 70% Malbec with 30% Merlot I understand.
I have to admit that the lighter Burgundy wines are more to our liking these days. Still a good full bodied red goes down well with a bit of roast beast!!!!

It wasn't till we wandered off the Boulevard Gambetta that we discovered the narrow lanes of Medieval Cahors. Located between the Boulevard and the Lot river, you then feel you go back in time. I don't think you can fully appreciate all the hidden treasures of a town on a day trip but Cahors did open up many of its wonderful sights to us. By walking the length of Boulevard Gambetta and then returning via the back streets and laneways of old Cahors one can appreciated Cahors as a city of new and old. We took Rue Docteur Bergounioux, a narrow laneway which then took us to Rue Nationale. The street then opened up to a small square where we were confronted by Cathedrale de Etienne. It's not overly visible until you are almost upon it.
Feeling a little peckish, we found a delightful cafe for lunch and from memory we may have had crepes. Naturally a glass of wine was ordered, not the robust red at this time of day but a chilled Rose.



At every turn there's a photograph that needs to be taken.



From memory, this laneway may have been Rue Docteur Bergounioux and if not, then it was one of many that invited you to take a side step from the main path.


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Many of the doorways had wood carvings similar to this.



The doors of Cathedrale de St-Etienne which dates back to 1119.

We did want to see the Cahors Museum of the French Resistance but on the day we arrived it was closed - we did get to see a much larger one in Lyon the following year which made up for it I guess.
Having reached the top end of the old town, it was time to stop for coffee at a cafe just near where we had parked our car. I remember sitting with Sue and just watching the locals go about their business as they would in any small regional city, but this was different - we were in France. Having spent a week in Provence and several days criss-crossing the Languedoc and the Midi Pyrenees, we were now in the heart of the Lot Valley in the Quercy region. We were on our way to the Perigord, tasting the cuisine, drinking the wine and taking in the regional sights as they presented themselves to us, sometimes by chance and sometimes by design.

With one more sight to see before leaving Cahors, we jumped back in our car to drive across the Lot River at the other end of the city and then snake back along the road that hugs the river.
It didn't come into view immediately but when it did, you could see why it was the jewel of Cahors. Pont Valentre is a grand fortified bridge that was built over a seventy year period. Building started in 1308 and was completed in 1378. It opened to traffic in 1350 with its seven stone arched span. Pont Valentre stood defiantly against the 100 Years War and the Wars of Religion and is just as impressive as Pont of Avignon.

Goodbye Cahors, sorry we couldn't stay longer.

It was time to leave Cahors and return to Vers to pack our bags for the next leg of our journey through France. We had a full week booked at Le Bugue in the Dordogne. Our drive would see us take a small stopover at Rocamadour with "Tommy" again taking us on a most interesting route to our destination.

Saint Cirq Lapopie - Just up the road from Vers.

Up early and a quick ride up the road was like a new world. A disused railway, a castle carved out of the mountain and a bridge spanning the river that was previously a railway bridge but more about that later. As was my usual habit, I would get out early to explore and then return excited to take Sue out in the car to experience the wonderful sights of my rides.



Early morning ride, looking over the village Vers.

 



I was high above the valley looking over the river Lot taking this photo - WOW!!!
A bike and a camera - what else?

Sue wanted to see Saint Cirq Lapopie, one of the reasons we picked Vers to stay. We could have stayed at Cahor and I don't remember why we didn't. It may have been cost, you save money here so you can spend more there!!!! Anyway, Vers was a delightful couple of nights of rest before moving on.

After breakfast I couldn't wait to go driving to show Sue some of my ride. On the way we stopped at St Gery, a little village on the banks of the river Lot. A young man in his teens served us coffee and Croissants and we enjoyed a chat. He'd heard of Australia and practised his English on us. We promised to pop in on our return to say hello and another coffee.



How do you drive a single lane bridge that is 300 metres long and give way to an oncoming car?

 The road took us along the railway and the Lot river before we came to a narrow bridge across the river. Our GPS Tommy told us that this is the way were should take, and who were we to disagree, after all he had a French accent and surely he'd been here before. WRONG!



The bridge from the other side - yes we made it across!!



The cut out along the river bank was used to haul the barges from river port to river port.



High above the river you can see the road that our GPS took us. Down below you can make out the haulage track that was used to pull barges up the river. We could have had an easy drive to the left of the river but this was something to remember.

 Rather than take us along the regular tourist road where buses go, he took us along a "goat track", a very scary single lane road cut from the steep cliffs above the Lot river. No way could two cars pass each other until they came to one of those parts of the road where there is a slightly wider section.



The view over the dash of our Citroen C4



Scenes like we have never witnessed in our home of Melbourne
and more to come to delight the imagination.



We are driving below a castle carved from the soft walls of a cliff.

 We did stop at one of those sections where we met another couple taking photos. The view over the valley was something to experience, lush green vegetation, craggy rocks and a flowing river below.
 Eventually we reached our destination, St Cirq Lapopie. BUT to our surprise, there were huge tourist buses and many cars parked in the car park. Where did they come from. We discovered on leaving that there was another way that was no more than a kilometre from the main road. Tommy, we hate you.



St Cirq Lapopie overlooking the river Lot. Photo taken from the car park......



Taken from across the river looking towards the Abbey of Saint Cirq Lapopie.

 In actual fact, Tommy took us on an adventure that we will cherish for many a day. We did return to St Gery on our way home and met our young new friend's family - it was a very good day.
We ate this time at our lodgings - a better meal but not as much atmosphere as eating across the road with the locals. Tomorrow was a day in Cahor before moving on to our next destination.

Vers near Cahor on the Lot River

Since last Wednesday's blog, I've been following our drive from Saint Antonin to Vers with Google Earth and discovered the location of a photograph we took but could not remember where. Someone else took the same subject but on a different angle. It was the wash house or Lavoir on the outskirts of Limogne. We remember driving along the hills of the area and seeing for the first time a Lavoir, but not our last. There were so many villages that we drove through or bypassed undiscovered. I guess you need to live in an area for awhile to really appreciate these hidden treasures.

Vers is just a small village with a population of less than 400 and you really wouldn't see a reason to stop there however with two nights we discovered those hidden treasures I mentioned earlier. Vers sits on the confluence of the river Vers and the river Lot. It had its own Chateau but I can find almost nothing of its history on the internet and we might not had even known about it except for an afternoon walk on the banks of the river Vers. At some time the Chateau sat on its own island but today the island doesn't exist. The walls and some of the foundations are still visible and subsequent buildings rest on the ancient foundations.
We sat by the river watching ducks paddle by, children play on the river bank while imagining what the Chateau may have looked like.
From what I can gather the Chateau fortress was established in the mid 1300s at the time of the One Hundred Year War, possibly a little before the battle of Poitiers 1356. By enlarging the photograph of the sign below (all in French) I tried to gain further information without success - maybe a reader out there can help me.

The History of Chateau de Vers - can anyone translate please?



A view showing some of the original fortress walls
Peter Young Pic from Google Earth. He has some great pics of the region.



Another view of further structures built on the old foundations of the Chateau.

Possibly part of the internal walls of the Chateau with steps leading up.



We stayed in this hotel with our balcony overlooking the river Vers.



Sorry, but I couldn't resist a pic of my bike on an early morning ride around Vers.

Next Wednesday takes us to the most interesting hilltop village but our GPS, Tommy took us on the most scary route that was in itself a great memory.