Once settled in at our home in France, Shelagh and I went for an
exploratory walk in the village.
We came upon the cemetery and went inside. We both like cemeteries, and the
ones here are quite ornate, with large tombstones and ornaments. Most of the
graves were covered in framed photos of young children and newlyweds etc; it's
like a way to include those passed on in current events. We walked on into the
centre of the village and figured out where the butcher, baker and grocery
stores were located. Then we came upon the local hotel, a small auberge with a
restaurant and a nice terrace. We took a seat outside and ordered a half liter
of the local wine, very tasty, and sat there in the French country side being
completely blown away.
Dinner was on me that night and I chose to cook a Hungarian
goulash, big mistake, it needs to simmer quite a while to tenderize the beef.
Although the dish tasted okay, the meat was tough, bummer! Next time I'll use
pork tenderloin.
We had dinner "al fresco" at the picnic table, and
that is where most dinners were served during our stay. The night air was warm
and comfortable, we had some wine as the sun set and the stars came out. In the
country where city lights don't spoil the upward view, the stars are a magical
display of distant mystery. Guy, who used to be a merchant marine, gave us a
quick lesson in astronomy. We were shown the big and little dipper as well as
Orion and Cassiopeia. Fascinating stuff to see so far into the universe, and
then to be told that the light you are seeing was sent here millions of years
ago, some of the stars we see today may no longer exist! It makes you feel very
small in such an enormous space.
We tumbled into bed at around
midnight and slept like the dead...
Up in the morning Shelagh and I went into town and at the bakery
we bought one baguette and four croissants. Breakfast was on in the garden with
some boiled eggs, our bakery treasures and fresh jams and cheese from the local
merchant. Coffee and fresh juice rounded out the extravaganza. After cleaning
up we went for a walk around the country side and came upon fields of corn and
sunflowers, both just past production and a little dried out. We saw the
Dordogne river up close a stuck our feet in the cool water, knowing that a swim
was in our future. Along the walk we met a chasseur (hunter) and asked him how
it was going, "Sa va?" his reply "Mais non!" a bad day for
pheasant.
Guy and I took turns in the kitchen during our stay in Carsac.
It was a good routine and we had some excellent dinners. Our last stop of the
day was always at some grocery store to find what to make for dinner, it set a
precedence for future holidays.
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| Rocamadour |
During dinner we discussed what we would do the next day and we
decided to go to Rocamadour, a village famous for the discovery of the bones of
the apostle Zacchaeus, as legend has it, but also an important pilgrimage site
of prayer. The town is glued to the cliffs of a deep gorge and it is exquisite.
On the way there during our drive Guy spotted a sign advertising an ancient
fortified mill, so we took a detour, paid the modest entry fee and got a guided
tour of how the workers milled grain into flour using the river's current for
power. Fascinating machinery and ingenious impellers that could be lowered into
the river to drive the grinding stone.
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| The grinding stone |
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| The view from the mill |
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| The entrance to Rocamadour |
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| Little shops |
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| Looking up |
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| The path to the church |
Upon arrival in Rocamadour we wandered the streets all the way
up to the church that tops the town. The views are amazing and it leaves you
feeling a bit strange when you realize that this town is about 1000 years old.
The streets were built for donkeys, so car traffic is nearly impossible. We had
plans for a late lunch here but restaurants close between 14:00 and 17:00, so
we had to be satisfied with some ice cream. A lovely day was had by all and we
went back to our little house in Carsac for a nice dinner and idle chat in the
garden with some of that lovely regional wine...
