Friday 27th and Saturday 28th October 2023

Souilliac and Cabes then Rocamadour

Well the laziness didn’t take long to settle in after stopping the walking and the body seemed to know, as a sudden wave of lethargy swept over me.

Thankfully first day of tourism 101 imvolved a late breakfast then a 40 minute drive to some replication of 20,000 year old caves at Lacaveau.

From a brief explanation in the brochure the 100 km strip of mountains in the region is a speiliologists dream with a mass of caves and attefacts

Went through some magnificent territory on the way, again with several majestic chateau’s. Unlike foot travel it was difficult to snap a photo out of a moving car.

The cave experience was interesting with the guide having a very rich imagination in his interpretation of the hundreds of wall and ceiling paintings . They were done by the local inhabitants who shared their lives with 6 metre long cave lions, reindeer , cows and long backed horses, who all featured prominently in paintings.

There were many moments where blank faces were the order of the day, as he went through his patter.

Unfortunately, an embargo on photos meant it was not an experience to be shared without paying the freight.

Historically enriched we headed to town for lunch, ducking under awnings as the rain started. Found a nice place with the Steptoe and Son escapee next to us,sucking on his mussel shells , enough for Jane to say ‘ I will have what he is having’.

When it did arrive he seemed to vicariously enjoy it again,watching Jane’s every mouthful through the glass divide.

I was completely satisfied with my burger and beer.

The rain worsened and we were sodden getting back to our pick up point. We huddled under a wooden structure for 15 minutes before our transport guy picked us up and dropped us back home in the late afternoon.

Had another wander around town taking in the highlights, as well as knocking into 3 young blokes smoking a bong in a tree covered family nature reserve. Was not sure whether to say “ Hi or High”.

The town with its big austere church, white limestone houses, babbling brook and a mix of derelict and well preserved houses had a different vibe to many towns visited previously.

Dined again in our hotel, with food of the usual high standard and mine host Mrs Fawlty fully in charge. The poor trainee waiter was having a hell of a night under her watchful eye – unable to remove the wine bottle wrapping, spilling wine when pouring, knocking over menu when delivering food and forgetting the soup spoon. Hopefully our supporting smiles helped.

Day 2 was another late start followed by a 20 odd km drive through winding mountain roads passing more chateaus and riverside Michelin Star restaurants before reaching what is now my favourite town on tour – Rocamadour.

The town is built into a mountainside from tne valley floor to the Chateau at the top of the hill. It is accessed via a narrow tunnel and then a winding road to the village. Once there it’s all one way traffic loops and foot travel is the norm.

There is no parking in town and you would love to have the parking franchise, there must be more than a dozen at the top, plus valley roadside spots.

it’s another place where a thousand photos could not do it justice. I remember when doing a walk from Lyon about 10 years ago I was going to divert here, but pushed on, thankfully I chose to revisit.

Our hotel was a beautifully converted old medieval home looking across the valley.

Could not wait to get out and explore this three level town where you either tread the stairs or take the lift – we chose the former and worked our way through the Old Town, up to the sanctuary/church and then the chateau.

Each area was great and provided some wonderful photo opportunities, if you could avoid the throng of tourists.

Some interesting shops including a Lolly shop with a ‘treats tree’, a shop specialising in swords and knives and an ice cream shop with unusual flavors.

The church is f great significance to pilgrims and many visit here when doing the Way of St James. The devout follow an ancient tradition of going up the 216 stairs on hands and knees. Whilst we walked, there were times when the ancient method was appealing.

The church is famous for its symmetrical organ and the carved wooden Black Madonna.

The church is on the centre level and it’s another steep ascent to the chatuea, which is privately owned and lived in. The trip up followed the 13 Stations of The Cross ,for those religiously literate, finishing at the tomb of St Amadour after whom the town is named.

The surrounding ramparts are open to the public for a fee. We both paid and scuttled our way up a couple of very steep stairways taking fleeting glances into the chateau’s backyard. Whilst the sights were great it was with great trepidation we headed down, as we both lived our repeating dream of getting stuck at the top of a high ladder.

Must say we both sighed with relief at the bottom.

We made a contribution to the renovation fund by buying a pin and hammering it into a ‘thank you’pole.

We chose to walk the top road on the way back and stop for lunch at the Belvedere Hotel. Great view and found a new delightful beer Xmas beer- unfortunately waiter could not explain the origin of the name.

Thankfully it was a steep downhill run into town and we passed many puffing tourists heading up the hill to collect their cars. Think the street sign said it all about navigating your way around town.

Back in through the gates with the crowd growing to do some more town touring before a siesta.

Dinner was in our hotel restaurant which kept up the great food trend and gave us a chance to try a new aperitif and the famous Black Wine of the region.

I managed to snap a couple of night shots of town after dinner and looking for the sunset money shot if weather holds tomorrow.

With no bars etc showing the RWC (French have totally lost interest) we headed home to watch the officials spoil yet another game of football through over zealous tule interpretation and gift the game to South Africa- NZ was gallant in defeat.

Just one more day here and then off to Orleans , home of Joan D’ Arc, to celebrate Halloween.