Rest, recuperation and tourist information

On Wednesday we mostly drove…

Are we there yet?

…heading generally south to the Pyrenees. We mustn’t arrive too soon as my torn calf is still mending and the temptation to hike up big mountains and climb would be too great. Our plan therefore is to spend a week or so in the Dordogne where Mrs P says I am allowed to cycle, walk and kayak. I am to ignore any rock climbing that I may see (Yes dear!).

After a few hours driving we arrived at Brantome in the Dordogne region of France. It is known as the Venice of the Dordogne (see photo below).

The town’s only resemblance to Venice that I can see is the fact that it is on an island. There are neither canals, gondolas or cruise ships. It is admittedly small like Venice, but tiny might be a better description. We walked round the whole island in about 30 minutes and I have a poorly leg!

My drone photo of Brantome from above (Yeah right!)

Brantome Abbey is here, built by Charlemagne in 769. The Abbey has had its ups and downs. Razed to the ground on more than one occasion the oldest parts now standing date back to only the 11th century (only!?).

Brantome Abbey - Still standing (for now).

There are also troglodyte caves, one of which includes the famous cave of the 'Last Judgement'. You’ll have to look it up. It’s so famous I had never heard of it and couldn’t find much about it on the interweb. Maybe they know about it in Venice?

Gondolas would look silly here.

I thoroughly recommend a visit to the Tourist Information Centre (maximum 40 people inside. Masks obligatory) for its dedication to the ancient art of failing to be helpful.
Perhaps our chosen provider of information was just having a bad day. Perhaps the problem was my mask muffling my voice. Maybe it was her mask muffling her voice. Perhaps the screen between her mask and my mask muffling both our voices? Whichever one it was, and it could possibly even have been a combination of all of the above, she was difficult to understand.
All that aside, I think she could have been more helpful. All we wanted was a half decent map of the area. I even said “S’il vous plaît.”
After multiple, “whats?” Several, “Pardons? and a positive multitude of “Eh’s!” She pointed at a map on her desk that was basically an outline of the Dordogne with an arrow saying “Vous êtes ici.” I asked if there was perhaps something a bit more detailed to which she replied “Non!” in a very final kind of way and with eyes that said both “Next!” and “Go away!”

We wandered away from the counter to lick our wounds only to find ourselves standing next to the motherlode of detailed maps of the area. Technically therefore you could say that she helped us. By simply sending us away she ensured we found what we were looking for. Perhaps her simple “Non!” was in fact a master class in teaching foreigners self-sufficiency?
I didn’t have the time to conduct a survey, but I like to think she said, “Non!” to all her customers and, by way of skilled glaring she subliminally guided customers to the part of the office where lay the particular information they required. Genius!

A well deserved coffee after a visit to the Tourist Information Centre

To be honest you don’t need the tourist information office to enjoy the delights of Brantome. If it stops looking lovely you have accidentally left the village. Please turn round and walk back 10 metres.
Here are a few photos to make you all want to visit.

Worth the visit just to see this novel method of taking the dog for a ride - I wonder if he’s on Strava?

Now there’s a restaurant we can’t afford to visit.

Shops cut into the rock. Quite literally cool.

A lovely mural that seems to sum up how little like Venice Brantome really is.

Happily ensconced at a campsite a short walk from the town - Le Peyrelevade Camping - we are chilling out and doing short walks (my version of short that is - 9.5 miles today).

Finally - STOP PRESS! - on Sunday 8th August the requirement for vaccinated UK nationals to quarantine on return from France is being lifted. Let the floodgates open. No longer will we be the only English in town.