Our Tour de France - Week Seven Working our way back up.

Our AirBnB Tent

Firstly we do hope that you are enjoying reading our post about our amazing 54 day trip into South Western France in our newly acquired VW Campervan called 'Elsie' during July, August and September 2020. Secondly all of the previous posts have been written whilst staying in our caravan, which is our main place of residence, in rural Buckinghamshire, England, but today I (Tim) am writing this post whilst sitting in a soggy campsite just outside of Salamanca in North West Spain, so with that bombshell you'd have probably guessed that there might be a Vuelta a España coming your way sometime soon!

Maz swimming in the Lot again

As the rain falls on Elsie's roof the balmy days of August seem just a distant memory so as I try to recall the events of our seventh week away during what was the week of the 22nd to 29th August 2020 please forgive me if I either ramble on our cut our time together shorter due to those gaps in my memory which are becoming more increasing in my older age.

We had making our way steadily north but with a mind not to retrace too many steps that we'd previously trod. After leaving our friendly unfriendly French friend behind just outside Auch where if you remember we'd met up with a statue of Charles de Batz de Castelmore, more commonly known as d'Artagnan of the Musketeers fame we headed for Agen, again on the river Garonne to a farm that grew prunes.

New friends and Pizza

Agen is a very famous region for prunes, however although we stayed on the farm it was a little too commercialised for our liking so we spent the afternoon reading by the Lot, another river that we'd seen earlier in the trip, Maz also took another dip and although the pitch that we had be assigned was quiet it was also a little damp, this was perhaps due to it's close proximity of the river and the fact that it was under the shade of some very very tall trees. 

Packing up the next morning proved to be more taxing than any other with the claggy soil sticking to anything and everything so we moved on as quickly as it allowed keen to get to our quirky AirBnB that we'd booked in nearby Pujols, a pretty little hill top village over looking the larger town of Villeneuve-sur-Lot. 

We were greeted by our host and now good friend Christophe who showed us to our accommodation, a tent! Yes we know we'd been camping for over six weeks but we were captivated by Christophe's set up and also the lure of a pool which was to be at our disposal over the next two days.

Shower time

The tent was funky, a double bed set on pallets with a small front awning for sitting and chilling. There was an outside shower, with hot running water and also a dry toilet similar to the one that we had experienced at the France Passion stay near Auch a few days before.

That evening we joined Christophe and his daughter for a pizza and beers that he'd bought in for us to share and he explained about the good mountain biking, and therefore good trail runs that surrounded his place. The next morning, after a very very good sleep, I (Tim) took on the daunting hill that rose from the house to village of Pujols that was calling from above.

Busy hilltop villages

Later in the morning we both took a stole up to the village, which had been voted prettiest in France on a number of occasions. The streets were deserted and the restaurant's all but empty which gave us the whole place to ourselves, which once again was surreal and wonderful at the same time.

I really enjoyed the challenge of the run and walk up to the village but soon settled back into a day lounging by the pool, dipping in and out to cool off and trying to finish the epic Les Misérables which I had been reading on and off for the whole trip. Maz was in her element with the access to the pool enabling her to enjoy her favourite recreation of 'swimming'.

Summer days.

We spent a second night under canvas with a further run out to complete a segment that I'd seen on Strava a 680 meter dash up a hill that gain 91 meters in height over that period. My time was 17th best, 2nd for over 45's, which again I was pleased with.

Chilling Out

After we said our sad goodbyes we headed further north, this time to visit a newly acquainted friend who we'd met via email after we'd both read three books which followed the fortunes of a family who'd left their comfortable jobs in Dublin to buy a vineyard just south of Bergerac.

Once again the drive through the vineyards east of Bordeaux was spectacular and we think that those around Chateaux Feely, home to Caro Feely, her husband, two now grown up daughters and dog, were some of the most beautiful a well manicured that we had seen on the whole trip.

We had agreed to meet at 4pm for a tour of the vines, chat about the domain and a tasting. We were greeted by Caro who informed us that we could park Elsie and stay for the night, which was wonderful and saved us thinking about driving after a tasting and further sundowners with her and her husband Sean who both hail from South Africa, Sean's grandfather had actually tended a vineyard just outside Stellenbosch in the old days so we had a lot to chat about which was nice.

Dry loo

The three books, written by Caro, follow their story of wanting to produce great quality wines in an organic way. Therefore they use no pesticides or herbicides, which are basically designed to kill off pests and diseases that the vines are susceptible to but also cause huge damage to the environment and the micro environment with the run off water, containing these chemicals returning to the nearby streams, then rivers and finally the seas of our planet and which have been proven to cause cancers to the people working with the vines and drinking the wine that is produced by this forced and foreign farming system.

Caro Feely harvesting her grapes

Caro had warned us that there would be a bit of early noise the next morning as they were preparing to pick their Sauvignon Blanc at around 7am, so I got up early for another run, quickly showered and joined Maz and their small team who were picking these tasty white (green) grapes by hand. Maz and I really enjoyed spending that hour with Caro and her team but needed to move on as we had an appointment to make at 11am.

During our time in France we had grown to love the country, its landscapes,  lifestyle and even it's people who had been so helpful and accommodating towards us, therefore we wondered if this might be the place to buy a home to use as a base whilst also allowing us to continue the work we do running leadership programmes to some of the most vulnerable people on the planet. 

To enable us to do this better we thought we should see if we could rent somewhere for the winter, helping us see what it might be like actually live during the less sunny times of the year and also to use as a base for us to explore properties that might come up in our price bracket.

Another few buckets in

Our meeting at 11am was with a lady who we'd contacted during the week around the rental of her three bed cottage just north of Bergerac and after enquiring as to where we might be able to park Elsie for the night offered us a free stay at the house that she rents out on a weekly basis during the summer. The place was wonderful, set out over two floors with a lovely kitchen, dinner come lounge big enough for a family, a downstairs bedroom with ensuite and two further bedrooms upstairs and an outside pool and terrace leading to a huge garden.

We made good use of the pool, chillaxing after a longish walk into the nearest village, but felt that the place was a little too isolated for the kind of winter living and walking that we wanted to enjoy so we turned down her offer of the six month contact and moved on after a peaceful nights sleep in a real bed (two singles!).

The following day we retraced our steps along the beautiful Dordogne river where we had travelled along over four weeks before. We were heading towards the stunning Rocamadour, a recommendation from Tim's parents who had visited many years before with his uncle (John, who sadly passed away earlier this year due to contacting this awful Covid-19 virus) and aunt who sang its praises as a must visit however we are getting ahead of ourselves back to today!

Watch out Maz is about

We turned up at an old farmhouse and were greeted by an elderly lady, bent double with age, and, who we suspected was, her grandson both spoke no English. The farmhouse seemed to be stuck in a timewarp with the 20th and 21st centuries passing it by as we entered through a low door into a dark but inviting farmhouse kitchen with cooking pots sitting above a the burning embers of the fire which obviously provided the warmth by which to cook and probably heat the house.

As was the custom of the 'France Passion' sites we were tempted by their wares which sat on the large oak kitchen table that took center stage, large tomatoes, squashes, jams and best of all fresh walnuts were purchased by Maz with what little change she had in her purse. 

The old lady informed us that we could pitch up in the field next to the sheep but before that encouraged her grandson to take us to see the views of the Dordogne and the idyllic village of Floirac that sits on one of the many paths towards the Camino Santiago. We left the farmhouse and made our tentative way in Elsie down a dead end sand road that led to a a rocky outcrop not only to find the wonderful views but also the fact that there was no real turning space, not to be deterred Elsie did her level best to keep a stiff upper lip and with a wing and a prayer we shuffled back and forth with the ravine calling us but to know avail, we were made of sterner stuff and returned forthwith to the safety of the field and the smelly fly ridden sheep which seemed a better option that the valley of death that we had just escaped.  

Tim overlooking the Dordogne after running
down to the village and back

The next morning we both went out for a run, I made it down to Floirac and back up the steeeep slippery path, again in good time, Maz ran around a loop along the top road on a 7km run which she said she enjoyed and after a quick shower using our faithful 12volt shower pump collapsible bag combo we were keen to get on to see what all the fuss about Rocamadour was all about.

The journey only took around 30 minutes through countryside that reminded us of Derbyshire, spectacular in its own right but nothing that we hadn't really experienced before. However that was all to change as we turned a bend that revealed a huge valley of which we hadn't seen since the Pyrenees and down which a road led passed some impressive city gates and as we traversed further opened up to a carpark next to a river.

A line of people snaked back toward the cliffs and as the tree line opened up we could see a medieval town, complete with church built as if hanging to the edge of these cliffs with huge buzzards or some such carrion birds circling above.

Rocamadour

Instead of following the hordes (which we don't often do anyway) we followed the river and lower path into the valley with the cliffs now closing in around us. Up we climbed and made it to a smaller city gate at the back end of the town and had the whole view to ourselves as the other tourists either clambered on the 'train', a vehicle with carriages which charged a fortune and looked sort of like a train except it didn't run on rails, or made their slow way up the steps.

Rocamadour two 

Saying that once again the town was all but deserted and we kicked ourselves for paying for parking when there was lots of free space along the riverside which was free to park. We enjoyed a few sunny hours exploring, even walking right up and along a prom which again provided us with awesome views of the town towards l'Hospitalet where apparently my Mum and Dad had stayed when they visited.

We made our way out away from the town on the other side of the valley which once again helped us shape our experience, how and why on earth did they build such a place is still a question which goes over in our minds and as we settled into our lakeside spot at Domaine du Moulin de Lachaud a little further north we discussed the week, our highlights and perhaps even our thoughts about making France our home in the future.

Until next time.....