TheTraveler

 

Rapture in the Dordogne Valley
By Doug Pelton

The ten-hour drive from Arles across southwestern France brought our weary foursome into Beynac well after midnight, missing our check-in time at the Hotel de Chateau by three hours. No, the innkeeper did not leave the light on for us, and even shuttered all the windows.

But that’s how things are done in Beynac, a cliff-hugging, medieval village in the Perignon Noir region of southwestern France(Segments of the movie, CHOCOLAT, were filmed here with France’s own Juliette Binochet)

Sleep starved, we gave thought to storming Beynac castle looming somewhere in the fog 500 feet above us. If King Richard the Lion-Hearted overtook this massive fortress in 1184, we mused, why couldn’t our merry band at least attempt it---anything, we reasoned, to allow us to stretch full-length for a few winks before sunup.

But as we settled into our Ford Focus for a few winks, the sallow streetlight emitted its glowing reminder of the penalty for missing a reservation in the Dordogne valley.

Dawn came too quickly, but the excitement of visiting a pre-historic cave, and our pre- arranged canoe trip that afternoon down the Dordogne brought us to near
giddiness: There was almost a mystical rapture permeating this medieval valley.

We checked into our hotel before the second shutter was opened and endured the innkeepers scolding: Yes, we would be charged for our two rooms and, no, forget any discount just because you all survived a night in the Ford Focus.

Philippe (We booked his taxi/guide service via the internet) took us to the uncrowded Grotto des Combarelles, a subterranean cave going 600 feet into the hillside outside of Sarlat. Discovered in 1910, the innermost part of the cave is covered with engravings from the Magdalenian period (about 12,000 years ago). Drawn over a period of 2000 years, many are superimposed one upon another. They include musk oxen, aurochs, mammoths and stylized human figures.

Numerous caves dot the region. We knew if we wanted to see the life-scale, polychrome paintings, then we’d have to return someday to visit the Grotte de Font-de-Gaume near Les Eyzies-de-Tayac. Tickets limited to 200 a day and by appointment only. This is the last cave within Europe with polychrome paintings still open to the public.

After lunch in Sarlat’s market square, Philippe drove us back into Beynac to the canoe outfitters. As we parted, he handed me his business card in jest:
“Call me if you miss Beynac,” he laughed. Bordeaux and the Atlantic Ocean were 85 miles west of us.

That Philippe! What a prophetic jokester.

My wife, Ann, and I opted for the short, hour-and-a-half float (5
kilometers) to Beynac from Cenac, where the canoe bus dropped us. We bid ‘avoir’ to our two travel companions as they were transported to Carsac for their three-hour float back to Beynac.

The lanquid current demanded little paddling skills, all the better to enjoy the chalk-streaked cliffs and hillsides of fir, chestnuts and green oaks fold into an unfolding cinematic feast. Indeed, it was almost profane to behold those magnificent river views of castles and chateaus from a blue plastic canoe.

A little less than two hours on the river and we noticed the current was getting stronger. Ann exclaimed that Beynac was now behind us. Not so, I countered, “I’m sure it’s just around the next bend.”

As the topography moved from rocky cliffs to flattened countryside, we could feel the rapture of the Dordogne rupture. How did we not see Beynac? Had all the castles, chateaus and villagery looked the same to us that past hour or so?

We paddled now in seemingly troubled waters. Attempts to head back upstream in the fast current were proving futile. A trio of canoeists watched our predicament from a shore-side picnic area. We pointed our plastic bow to the shoreline and made a perfect exit from the river. Pride intact, we slid our canoe further up the low bank and joined the French trio of strangers. Thank heavens the word “cellphone” is internationally understood. I dialed Philippe’s number.

“You missed Beynac?” His laughter rolled across the digital abyss. How could we? Where are we? We didn’t know the answer to either question.

One of the strangers intervened and Philippe contacted the canoe agency and we were plucked from the banks of the Dordogne within the hour for the two-mile ride back to Beynac.

Philippe met us in front of our hotel, and burst into laughter as we sheepishly exited the car. “You almost made it to Bordeaux,” he quipped. I tried tipping the canoe owner for her ‘rescue’ work, but she waved my 5 Euro off. 

 A short nap, and then a walk up to the castle. History notes the castle was a power seat and its barons so cruel that the local vassals and peasants named it “Satan’s ark.” It became the stronghold of the French during the Hundred Years War with England, 1337-1453.    

We walked into the courtyard and over the inner-castle ramp, where, we surmised, the knights on white-steeds galloped at one time to-and-from battle.

By-passing a small tour group, we ambled up to the top of the 'keep' and to the breakaway views of the Dordogne meandering below us through a mystic-looking valley. Across the river lay Castlenaud, the chateau stronghold of English forces during those tumultuous times.

We lingered, letting the tour group exit the keep. When we started our descent back down, the door from our perch was locked. We took an unfamiliar staircase to yet another locked door, and then another. Then we heard a voice echoing off the ancient walls: “We’re down here!” Quickly we peered over an interior balcony and saw the tour guide holding up the keys -- she was locking all the doors in the castle for the night.

For sure, there is rapture and adventure in the Dordogne Valley, a medieval and moveable feast.

Doug Pelton works in advertising for a daily newspaper in Washington state.

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