Ancient Art and Underground Thrill Rides 20 Sept 2011

20 Sept 2011

Up too early, or so Luke's watch said. It insisted it was 5.57am and refused to change. Either a miracle had occurred and time had stopped right here in France or it was time for a new watch.

Queueing for tickets

We hustled to get ready and hooned off back to Les Eyzies to queue for tickets to the Combarelles cave. It was 9.10am when we got there, cold and foggy and already 20 people were queueing outside the Font De Gaume Office/Shed/Shack, most of them American, from what we could discern, although the people in front of us were English. We shivered, breathed out condensation, admired the carvings on the doorways on the building across the road and waited.

A tremor of excitement ran through the crowd as the office ladies arrived in their precision gift shop driving team formation. It was spectacular to watch. Meanwhile, a pushy tour guide led a bevy of fat Americans past the line and through the locked gate. One of them proudly displayed a jacket label that said "American Natural History Museum" so they may have been experts. Or else they were just showy jerques.

I decided that the really fat lady among them was Jean M. Auel, just to liven up the moment. She wasn't.

Then the precision gift shop team invited in all the people with reservations. Another disgruntled murmur ran through the crowd. Reservations? Bastards! Especially since a lot of us had tried to buy tickets the day before only to be refused. Turns out you have to book a month in advance or else just try your luck on the day. They only sell 150 tickets on the day.

Finally the ticket window opened and we slowly moved forward. It took a full 20 minutes to get to the window, by which time we'd made the full spectrum of "I'm here to buy Iron Maiden tickets" jokes. Thankfully we were able to get early Combarelles tickets, 10.45pm. Since we'd lined up I asked about the possibility of Font De Gaume tickets. Could only get in at 4pm. I think the people behind us were in for disappointment.

We had a bit of time to spare so went to enjoy the delights of more seatless, paperless public toilets before driving to the Combarelles site 2km from the town centre. The fog had cleared into a bright sunny, though cool, day. We eventually walked into the tiny office and idled a while with the 4 other people who were on our tour - they only allow six at a time. Finally our short and very knowledgeable tour guide arrived and led us to the locked gates of the cave. We passed through a locked door and walked single file along the hollowed-out walkway that leads into the deep rock.

Outside the Combarelles cave. Our guide is the short woman in brown

Originally you could only reach the Combarelle cave if you crawled on your belly through a small hole but thankfully they've widened the whole thing to allow easy access. We went about 120m along a narrow passage, maybe 1m wide and 1.5m tall, originally created by an underground river. There are a few stalegtites but it's mainly just water-shaped limestone.

The engravings in Combarelles don't immediately impress like the polychrome paintings that you might see at Lascaux. It's a far more subtle experience. You are in a very cramped space with little light and you rely on the tour guide to bring the wall to life in front of you. If the light faces the wall front on, there's nothing. If it's held to the side, things become easier to see. Sometimes the image leaps out at you and other times it takes a few moments where you study the various lines... and then you find yourself saying "AH!" Even then it can take a bit of prompting by the guide... but it's worth it.

There were mainly horses but also an ibex, mammoth, bison and even some human-like figures. For me, the best one was a cave lion, beautifully sculpted and carefully placed on the wall so that the contours of the rock looked like muscles, the eye well positioned. It was just so perfect, my stomach turned over. There's something about this ancient art that can move you deeply. It's incredibly old, created in incredibly difficult circumstances and is often highly skilled. I wanted to feel that at Pech Merle but there were too many people and not enough time. This time around, in that tiny space with 7 people, it was magic.

Lion engraving in the Combarelles

Most of the images were simply engraved into the soft rock, often with flint tools, although there are a few remnants of paint (manganese) as well. It seems that some of these images were well-realiseding but time has eroded them down.

Our guide spoke mainly in French but she would occasionally point a few things out in English for the benefit of Luke and I. She really knew her stuff and stayed to answer questions afterwards.

We celebrated a successful tour with a coffee and chocolat eclair in the coffee shop in town and then went wandering. As per usual, everything was shut, mainly because it was 1pm and lunchtime.

Les Eyzies rock overhang and prehistory museum

We ended up hanging around in the fossil shop because it was open and bought some iron pyrite and flint just for the fun of making fire. The shop owner recommended Grotte de Rouffignac so we decided to change plans and drive the 15km out to it.

By then the weather was fine and hot, the sun was out and everything was very pleasant. At the cave things were casual, no tour buses or queues. Rouffignac is different to the ones we've seen before. It's more of a "Hollywood" cave - a huge arch leading down into the mountain. This one is studded with nodules of flint and was used as a flint mine in ancient times.

The entrance to Rouffignac cave

This tour saw us loaded onto a little train and driven more than 1km under the earth - a very slow subterranean roller coaster. I was wondering where the Gringott's vaults were. Once again the guide spoke in French so we missed all the finer details. it takes about 10 minutes to get to the paintings, incredibly deep and far in. Once again, the air is cold and damp, about 12 degrees and it's pitch black. Occasionally the guide would turn off all the lights and my heartbeat would instantly increase.

Very slow underground roller coaster

Rouffignanac boasts several friezes painted with black manganese, a very stable chemical that has survived well underground. The first shows 3 woolly rhinoceros in a row and - interestingly - also boasts graffiti dating from 1770. The second features mammoths and horses as well as some engravings. The train then proceeds to a spot very deep where the stone age artists have drawn at least 40 images on the smooth white ceiling.

Some of the 100+ images from the ceiling

Three woolly rhinoceros in a row

At one point the tour guide was discussing a mammoth in great detail and he kept pointing his torch at it's bumhole... carefully rendered in black. The original scientists thought the flap of skin over the anus might be graffiti. Turns out this was a careful attention to anatomical detail by the original artists and was only verified once modern day people had found a frozen mammoth to study it. More here.

As with so many of the caves, there was a section where the public was not allowed. This particular one contains human figures. The Combarelles has some of the mysterious symbols that are found only in that area (also at Font De Gaume). I have a vain wish of someday being able to access these hidden areas, although I have no idea how. I'm sure a degree in archeology does the trick. Or a hat and whip.

Luke did a spot of flint mining outside

We had a quick look at Laugerie Haute (Jondalar's home cave) which was closed

After our successful cave visit we were starving and drove to the local supermarket to buy peanuts, camemert and cider. We then gobbled that up sitting by the Vezere river, watching the sun set.

In theory we were supposed to go out for dinner tonight to enjoy duck bread, duck entree, duck soup, duck tape, duck dessert. We were too full from our snack. But we headed out to Auberge Veyret - the restaurant we went to 3 years ago - to see what was on the menu. Same stuff. Alas, booked out.

Thus, we drove back to the cabin and walked along the banks of the Dordogne, skimming stones. We had to cross a bit of water to get back on the bank and Luke gave me a piggy back.

The "beach" on the Dordogne at the Soleil Plage caravan park

Then we ate chicken, bacon and leek risotto again. Am now knackered. Tomorrow we have to clean this cabin and move to the next one at St Emilion Yelloh caravan park.

Roc St Christopher and Sarlat 19th Sept 2011

Quick notes from the 19th Sept:

- Lazy breakfast then travelled towards Les Eyzies, getting lost.

- Combarelles cave sold out before we got there at 11.30am. Damn. Didn't think it through properly.

- Drove out to Abri Cap Blanc and walked down the hill to ticket office. Nope, next tour is at 4pm and not in English. Put our names down for 11am the next day.

- Wondered what to do. On a whim, headed to Roc St Christopher, the troglodyte city. Glad we did. This is a huge rock shelter inhabited for 50,000 years. Saw most activity in the middle ages before it was destroyed in the wars of religion. We learned how people carved out square holes in the rock to make it easier to build shelters. Also there was a church with graves dug in, medieval building devices and a few interesting scenes laid out with original weapons or tools. The site features in the latter Ayla books.

The huge rock overhang has had a long history

How it may have looked in the middle ages

View down the river

Recreations of medieval construction machines

Stairway to heaven

No pictures!

Bottom of the rock shelter

Lovely view over the valley. Really enjoyed the visit, it was unexpected. Also had a nice E3 vegie soup for lunch.

- Headed to Sarlat, parked the car and wandered about the old city. It was Monday so half the place was closed. there were, however, 16 different fois gras shops all selling exactly the same thing in different containers.

Early French rocket prototype

Sarlat. It has old stuff.

-Sarlat is big on old buildings  but I think we're a bit beyond that stage now. Looked a bit, didn't spend too long.

- Very serious photo being taken by a group at the Sainte Marie fountain. I made faces to they laughed at the last minute.

- Had ice cream, creme brulee and Luke had lemon merangue pie... very nice.

Went shopping, bought leeks and chicken to make risotto... a big success.

Glorious Caves 17 Sept 2011

It rained during the night, our first bit of bad weather for more than a week. We got up early and did our best to pack and clean, although I didn't try too hard with the cleaning as I assumed we had to pay a cleaning fee. Still, Luke beavered away and made the boat relatively presentable.

We chatted with the Babou marine lady, I signed off on the engine hours and bikes but thankfully we weren't charged for anything else. I mentioned that I'd only done a simple cleaning job but she didn't care. In reality we probably left it cleaner than when we arrived, Luke was sweeping up dog hairs.

Major fuck up when I was paying. I gave her the Mastercard and signed off on it but she didn't hand the card back to me. I wasn't paying attention, said my au revoirs and off we went. Did not notice it until the lady rang at 5pm to say she had the card. Cue lots of panicked worry about what to do - cancel the card, courier it or drive back to Cahors for it? The courier wasn't possible and cancelling the card would be a nightmare for planning so tomorrow Luke will drive back.

We were lucky that Oufaa from Manoir Malatrie did the talking for us and organised it all, we were very grateful. And I think we can trust the Babou Marine lady, it was her fault for not handing back the card and she was good to ring us. She'll drive in to the office tomorrow especially to give the card back.

So... while we were still oblivious to this card-related disaster, we drove out of Cahors and made our way to Gouffre de Padirac, which involved a fair bit of squiggling on small country roads. Monseiur GPS helpfully got us lost a few more times but we got there in the end.

The Gouffre is a major tourist attraction with large carparks and numerous shops but thankfully it wasn't too busy when we got there at 11.30. You buy your tickets and make your own way down into the massive hole in the ground via a plethora of steps - or a lift if you're lazy. Just being in the bottom of the hole is impressive and you can get down there for free. You peer up at the bright sky and the sweeping plunge down, the green moss and ferns at the bottom and the dripping, dark, sculpted walls and you feel very small.

This sign didn't inspire confidence

The massive stairway into the hole

Squinting into the sun, view down into the hole.

We then descended down further into the cave proper, following a long tunnel deeper into the earth along concrete paths and guiderails. In places it looks a little like the queue for a roller coaster, with incoming tourists funnelled down one lane and outgoing tourists on the other. The walls are impressively lit and the roof seems very high up.

Finally we reached the underground river where a bevy of little aluminium gondoliers (seats 8) waited.They finally take your ticket there and put you on the boat. Luke and I were up front on the way in and I think the boat ride was perhaps the best part. It was all very calm and restful, with our fellow passengers hushed as we made our way, stroke by stroke, deeper into the earth. The water was aquamarine and quite cold, 12 degrees, though the air was not much warmer. Our boat guide would occasionally say something about the cave but it was all in French. Luke and I both felt we were being rowed along a magical river with French poetry being quoted to us, the trickle of water and gentle splash of the oars adding to the experience.

We also expected to be attacked by orcs at any moment, this being one of the deep places of the earth, but thankfully that didn't occur. The balrog also didn't make an appearance.

I didn't take this pic. And it doesn't give an idea of just how huge the cave is.

As we went deeper stalagmites and stalagtites started to appear and the rift in the rock became deeper. At last we docked and were mustered into small groups for our guided tour, all in French, of course. One of the other guides had helpfully asked me what language I spoke and then handed me a pamphlet in Dutch, so we had no real way of knowing the details of what we saw but it didn't matter. The glorious cave spoke for itself.

The river leads to a huge underground opening that must be 20 stories high, adorned all the way up with flowing limestone formations in spikes and curtains above your head. We had to climb steps to appreciate some of the segmented pools and mushroom-like rocks but I think it was the sheer size of the cavern that impressed me. The whole thing was majestic and beautiful and awe inspiring.

Our tour guide was quite the comedian and I think he enjoyed making jokes at the expense of we stupid non-French speaking tourists. Luke decided he was just telling knock-knock jokes.

We made our way back up the river (in the back of the boat this time, our female guide reciting poetry again) and smiled for the tourist camera. Yes, we bought a photo for E8.50. Might as well. I was smiling and waving in it, better than our fellow passengers who all look like stunned mullets.

It was time for lunch so we opted for the official cafe but it took about 45 minutes to get our salad and chips which was rather frustrating. The chef was yelling things in the kitchen and I guess we should be glad he wasn't going completely crazy and throwing knives. Lucky I didn't tell him about the dirty fork.

We didn't visit Insectopia but took photos for Paul

It took a long time to get to Manoir de la Malartrie at Le Roque Gageac thanks to the endlessly winding French roads, most of which don't let you travel faster than 60 - although we encountered our fair share of speed maniacs who enjoyed overtaking in dangerous places. We have decided these people are "Le Jerques".

The Manoir is a lovely place and the most expensive hotel room I've booked on the trip. It is an 120 year old building on the river converted into a B&B, high on the charm factor but also very well looked after. I got a bargain and we are in the 2 bedroom suite which is simply huge, although we could have had the room with the private terrace. I opted for the suite due to the twin beds and lovely shower which we needed after a long week on the boat.

Manoir de la Malartrie, La Roque Gageac

Main room of the suite

Twin room

The giant shower

The pool. Note: no pool fence. It's France.

Tonight we ventured into La Roque for dinner and saw a large conglomeration of emergency vehicles parked with their lights flashing. Luke and I were walking along the road-river wall, mainly to avoid the traffic, when we realised what the emergency was. Someone had been walking along the wall and fallen off, maybe 5 or 6 metres vertical drop onto the rocky river bank below. There were a lot of ambos, doctors and concerned people gathered around, someone holding a drip.

We stopped walking on the wall.

The emergency people were there a long time. There was a SMUR vehichle which is a French system where they bring a doctor to the scene to treat a patient rather than rush them to a hospital. Given the size of the fall, we figured the victim may have had spinal injuries.

There are no footpaths in La Roque Gageac. Pedestrians are forced to walk on the road which is incredibly busy. The doors of the hotels and restaurants step straight out onto the road, their menu signs are hard to read without being killed. Today driving through it was rather nerve wracking, trying not to run over the hoards of people wandering about. We have decided they need to erect a pedestrian boardwalk along the riverbank just to improve safety. I mean, the French don't really care about safety and normally we like that but in this case I think it's all just a bit too mad to be left as-is.

Our evening meal wasn't that great. We had wanted to dine at the snazzy Belle Etoile restaurant but it was full so we opted for the pub brasserie. Fairly average fare, Luke had a 4 course meal that started out with Turin Blanchi - a huge tureen full of white soup made from stock, egg whites and old bread. Very strange but quite tasty. I had langoustine canneloni with bisque sauce... sounded great except for some reason it was wrapped in a cheesy omelete. WTF.

In the town park there was the 25th annviersary dinner of some local association, they were all singing along with traditional French songs, very cheerful.

So now, bedtime in this lovely wide bed that has a quilt rather than an itchy blanket that a dog had probably slept on. Tomorrow Luke will drive back to Cahors for the credit card and I'll do the washing at the caravan park. Not a perfect day but here's hoping it's not complicated.

17th Sept - Happy Birthday Dad.

The Painted Horses and the Hill 14 Sept 2011

14 Sept 2011

There are little caves all over this valley

Drank too much at the restaurant, small hangover the next morning. Took us a while to get organised and off but that seems to be standard.

The trip back downstream is pleasant enough and going down in a lock is a lot easier, less turbulent. We had help from Dutch people for the first one. The second one wasn't so great because Luke decided to do it himself. That was fine except that a boat drove up to the bottom while he was still doing it and waited. Then a bloke walked up the track to the lock, stood near Luke, lit a cigarette... and watched. Didn't lift a finger to help. Even though he was right there and it would have sped up the process and helped him out. Nope. Just going to watch. Bloody rude bastard.

The mooring at Bouzies. There were no boozies to be had.

We made it back to Bouzies, docked and I did a lap of the village, hoping to find a boulangerie for lunch. Nope. Closed. Of course. It's Wednesday. It wouldn't be open today. So we had cereal for lunch. Breakfast: the lunch of champions.

Having rung the Pech Merle cave and found that we didn't have to book, we set off on our bikes along the 5km road to Cabrerets, past swooping high limestone cliffs riddled with little caves. We did a bit of exploring and then kept going, following the lovely little side river. I could have sworn the road was all downhill to the village. Once there Luke had a quick coffee which turned him into Superman for five minutes. Then we set off again.

Rock shelters on the road to Pech Merle, just out of Cabrerets

The road to Pech Merle has about 500m of flatness, past more limestone cliffs that ended in a beautiful flat area, facing south. I could easily imagine that stone age tribes would happily have camped there, it was a lovely spot. Nice little brook, now with a mill house over it.

Then it was 3km of hill, straight up. Hard going. Luke was pushing it due to his illness. I did a lot of standing on pedals but still ended up pushing my bike. When we finally got there we were very sweaty and tired but rather exhilerated.

The cave tourist complex was fairly deserted though people had begun to arrive for the post-lunch sessions. We went in with the 2pm tour, the first for the afternoon. Unfortunately it had the full complement of 25 people (perhaps more) and the tour guide only spoke in French so I don't think we had the best experience; it certainly can't compare with our amazing Font De Gaume experience of 2008.

The famous Pech Merle horses. This painting is thought to be 25,000 years old.

The cave is extensive with lots of amazing stalactites and limestone formations. There's also several very old cave paintings including "The Black Frieze" which has about 40 different overlaid animals, hard to discern all of them. There was a carving of a bear's face which I really enjoyed and human footprints in mud, preserved. Impressive. Obviously the best painting was the spotted horses, huge and well done. I wanted more time to just look at them, to stand in silence and admire the antiquity and the workmanship but of course the tour group had to move on.

It was still wonderful to see and I'm glad we did it.

The cave was only 12 degrees and after being hot and sweaty at the start we emerged very chilled, I couldn't wait to stand in the sun. I thawed out as we rode down the hill... I should have been hurtling but I found I didn't trust the brakes on my crappy old hire bike... the back one didn't do much and seemed ready to fail. Then the ride back was easy... I swore it must have been downhill all the way.

Bouzies bridge with the "English castle" built into the rock behind it

After returning to Bouzies we hightailed it back to St Gery as we didn't have any milk for breakfast. Drank beer as we drove, like you do. No police breath checks on the river Lot. Tried to make the supermarket at 7pm, arrived as the bell was tolling... and the roller door had just started to close. Damn. At least I got some bread. Then settled in for a lovely minestrone for dinner. And too much wine.

Sunrise in Saint Gery at the mooring spot