Wednesday (Brantôme)…

 





 
A light breeze carried the blended sounds of gentle waterfall, rhythmic waterwheel, and hungry waterfowl into our sunny room. The best alarm clock you could wish for. 

We found a charming patisserie in town for a light breakfast and wonderful cappuccino, before visiting the Brantôme abbey. Although the abbey dates back 1000 years, it had been destroyed and re-constructed a number of times. But that doesn’t take away from its draw. The church is bright and beautiful, but similar to what you come to expect in Europe. 

But behind the church, the interest begins. The abbey was built against cliffs, where earlier buildings and dwellers resides. Cubbies for this and that, and some fascinating wall engravings make these caves worth exploring. 

The Dordogne is known…in part…for its pre-historic cave paintings. The most famous (like Lascaux) are closed permanently, since the mere presence of modern visitors in these delicate caves causes irreparable harm. But the paintings at Villars are shielded from humans. 

The caves at Villars are impressive without paintings. The guided tour descends through impressive displayed of formations. Entire ceilings of tiny white stalactites, wavy translucent curtains of rock, and flows that look like water. All stunning. 

But the. You come to the pre-historic stuff. Claw makes of nine-foot tall bears deep in the earth. And then… 

19,000 year old paintings by our ancestors. Horses in detail. A human form. Paintings protected from our breath by layers of calcite formations that will someday engulf them and erase them. 

NINETEEN THOUSAND YEARS. Truly amazing to see. Inches from our faces. 

And then…just ponder for a moment. WHY did they paint these pictures? When everything is possible, the mind expands to figure it all out. And then. We learn something. 

I was humbled. And these are just tiny fractions of the enormous paintings around this region. 
Deep in thought, we hurried back to Bartôme for an afternoon boat ride up the canal and river that surrounds the town. The air was warm and idyllic. A perfect way to enjoy the afternoon sun as it bounced off the water. Autumn got the best of some trees, who dropped early leaves. 

Time for dinner. Light pink clouds in a pale blue sky at dusk. We sat by the river with the abbey in sight, sipped deep red wine (Chateau Perayne from Bordeaux 2007), and nibbled on crispy pizzas with ham and mushrooms and truffle oil. Small bats swirled overhead, diving at their invisible meals…keeping us bug free. 

As the sun set, the chill of autumn set in. Time for a warm apple tart drizzled with chocolate. Um, and a bit more wine. When in France. 

After dinner, we cross-crossed the tiny city as the moon rose. Bats continued to feast, their translucent wings lit by artificial flood lights. We snapped photos like there was no tomorrow. The waterfall at the confluence of the river and canal that surround the city filled the air with a moist white noise. 

Nothing else mattered.