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After mulling over the options, I decided on a campsite on the Lot, close to tomorrow's route, and cutting off a fair corner of it.
The only problem: getting over a couple of sets of hills to reach the Lot. Including some 20% gradients. I had to get out of the saddle for long hot stretches (rouler en danseuse).
View back towards Figeac
It was worth the effort to get to the Lot
The final 5 km was along a tiny bike path on the quiet south side of the river. Dinner at the friendly Camping de Roquelongue, overlooking the Lot.
Thinking back to my time in the square before lunch, I was reading Richard Holmes' "Footsteps: Adventures of a Romantic Biographer" (1985). It's based on the author's experiences in 1964 when at the age of 18 he followed in the footsteps of Robert Louis Stevenson's famous "Travels in the Cévennes with a Donkey". He considers how RLS wrote that he travels to:
get down off this feather bed of civilisation and find the globe granite underfoot and strewn with cutting flints
Romantic stuff for sure, but those flints do make the foie gras and the river view sweet.
This was going to be a short and easy half-day today, but it turned out to include a tough afternoon.
All the way to beyond Reyrevignes was rolling lanes, no-one about, real back lanes.
My route took me past the remains and memorial to the Nazi massacre and destruction of the hamlet of Gabaudet in June 1944, where 50 people were killed and 71 deported, mainly to Dachau.
It's heartening that an important memorial like this is so well maintained. We need all the help we an get to remember where belligerent extremism leads.
At the general store at Assier I was able to stock up for lunch, and then continued on to climb over the ridge and down to Figeac. All by lunchtime. So far so good.
I made a little tour of this pretty town and had a little pre-picnic refreshment in the Place Champollion, watching the world go by, and anticipating a leisurely lunch and an afternoon nap.
Wrong! It turned out the campsite I'd identified just outside the town was in fact closed for the season. Some local picnicers I questioned thought there must be some technical problem with standards ("les normes" ).
But first things first. Lunch. Simple pleasures: cheese, tomato, foie gras...
Woke up this morning to a heavy mist all over the Dordogne valley. It was very cool in the damp, but I'd seen that the day was forecast to turn out hot - - and so it did.
Today was a short stage, 55km all in but with over 1,000 m of climbing. Most of that was in 3 long stretches, with correspondingly long descents.
After the first hill to Calès, the terrain seemed changed. Not only did sun replace mist, but coming over the ridge seemed to shift into a different microclimate. There were cherries on trees, wild strawberries in the verge, and a darker, more silvery green on the oak leaves.
The scenery also shifted a gear: wilder, more rugged, bigger hills.
Rocamadour l'Hospitalet is a breathtaking medieval hilltop town, partly built into the rock.
The photographer of this next one, a local man and seasoned cycle tourist reviewed my toute and assured me that some parts would be "durs" (hard) .
At Gramat I spent quite a bit of time and effort locating a campsite after my first choice turned out to be in a very poor state, virtually abandoned. Plan B (Camping Reflets de Ferme) Is simple and quiet and civilised. And has hot water.
Rain again before dawn after a very mild night. Why does it often rain briefly before dawn?
The day started off with a descent from on high along an old track down to the main road to Sarlat. As it was early ( and Sunday ) there wasn't much traffic and I appreciated the immaculate surface and we'll crafted cambers. This pile of stone was sitting in a lay-by.
There are enormous rocks everywhere in this area. In days gone by people burrowed into the rock to make dwellings or more recently plonked their enormous pile down on top.
There were a number of tough climbs through winding and wooded lanes, all in the first 25 km of the day.
At Sarlat I stocked up at a fancy boulangerie. And also at Lidl. As it's Sunday I wanted to have enough in the saddlebag in case, like last week, I was unable to find anywhere serving supper.
After Sarlat there was a good stretch of cycle path (V91), sections of which plunged through the rocks.
And then at Mareuil I realised I'd now made it to the Occitanie region (Lot département) , so I guess I'm now officially in the south.
Crossing the Dordogne
Another excellent campsite result. This time, by the side of the Dordogne, the Verte Rive, whose snack bar doubles as a Belgian Beer specialist, also serving food, Sunday evening included.
Another rainy start today, though not heavy.
A easy and tranquil start to the day down several km of track.
The rain had stopped before the first proper climb. If I'd taken my cagoule off at the bottom rather than the top I'd have been a lot less sweaty.
View from the second climb, on the way to Lascaux. An older local man told me that on the far hill there used to be an air strip and that at the paper mill, only 500 people are now employed, compared to 2,000 in his day.
Got to Montignac-Lascaux just after 11 and was able to join a guided tour ( in French ) within 5 mins.
The caves ("grottes" in French; "cave" is for wine as a passer-by who I asked for directions helpfully corrected) are now at version 4. This is a huge modern building, under which lie a facsimile of the original caves and their decorations.
The actual caves have been closed to the public for many years to protect them. If a facsimile of a cave sounds like a dubious proposition, it did to me also, but I'd been assured thst it was well done, and that turned out to be an understatement. It's mind-boggling how the textures and markings on the stone have been done. The cave network is extensive and the work is complex, as much of the time the paintings, drawings and engravings are overlaid.
The caves were discovered by 4 schoolboys in the 1960s. Here's one of them looking justifiably pleased with himself.
The over into the land of rock for which the Dordogne area is known.
La roque St Christophe
The Maison Forte de Reignac
After arriving at Les Eyzies-de-Tayac I had a long and very steep climb to the correctly named Camping Le Pech Charmant, a delux establishment run by an an extremely obliging and charming couple. The kind of place where you help yourself to a Perrier and a Cornetto at the snack bar and make a note of what you've taken on a sheet of paper. The kind of place where you get introduced to a new bitter apéritif, one made with yellow gentian from the Auvergne, mixed with a little crème de cassis.
Made in the Cotswolds. Published by Éditions Système D Ltd.
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