Thursday (Brantôme to Carcassonne)…

 
A quiet continental breakfast, and it was time to leave tranquil Brantôme. But the gentle tug to linger means one more short walk across the river in the morning light. We took a downstream stroll along the lazy, gurgling river, gazing up at troglodytic homes built into the cliffs. I wonder what they are like inside? 

Finally…reluctantly…we headed onward…and tranquil Brantôme was quickly replaced by the amazing terrain of the Dordogne. Signs for caves around every turn. We must be driving ground suspended by a honeycomb of ancient limestone passages. Signs for towns fortunate enough to have caves with paintings used these iconic graphics as badges of civil pride (and marketing savvy).Tiny La Douze lined its main street with tousands of colorful faux flowers for a weekend festival.  

We crossed the Dordogne river, and eventually left the region. We had gathered a long list of places to return to and explore on a future trip. 

We fast forwarded our drive a few times, hopping on the speedy network of toll roads headed south. Signs for Barcelona reminded us how close everything is here. (And 130 kph makes it seem reachable just over the horizon.) Adios Spain until next time. 

The outskirts of Carcassonne give no hints of the old walled city ahead. But suddenly, we crossed a bridge and up on the hilltop to our right: the iconic towers and walls of Carcassonne.  

The Pont Levis Hotel lay just outside the old city’s main gate, with a stylish rusted metal exterior that blended into the hillside without distracting from the city sights nearby. A great location with convenient (albeit slightly confusing) parking…perfect for a one night stay. The cow-patterned carpeting through the hotel added a bit of whimsy…light years from the traditional French countryside decor in Brantôme. 

Without missing a beat, we headed into the city, ready to explore this UNESCO world heritage site. This is a tiny city, meant for walking and observing. It seemed to have more restaurants (and very appealing restaurants at that) than visitors in this off-season day. 

We popped into the city’s main church, a beautiful stone building with soaring stained glass. The detail and variety was breathtaking. And then, quite unexpectedly, a quartet of men (a choir from Moscow we learned later) began to chant and then to sing, filling the hall with uplifting harmonies. 

We circled the city in its famous ramparts. 

We stopped for pre-dinner wine in a tiny courtyard under a broad tree that sheltered us from intermittent drizzle. As the sun set, Le Bar à Vins à Boire got even more charming. Light jazz led to another glass. The engaging wait staff led to yet another. 

We chose one of many outdoor restaurants to plant ourselves for dinner. We tried the signature cassoulet with duck and sausage for dinner…a regional specialty sold by nearly every restaurant in town. And we immediately knew why. The warm, hearty dish was bursting with flavor. The crispy-skinned duck and snappy sausage blended perfectly with silky white beans and aromatic sauce. 

A steady, light rain accompanied us back to our room. Gentle thunder and lightning rocked us to sleep.