Gageac. The Rock Gageac cuz nobody knows anymore what Gageac means.
We took our leave of Stephane – a sad day yet an exciting day! Stephane at My French Heaven is the most gracious, generous, warm, informative and informed, helpful host we’ve ever met. Which is why we knew we would miss him terribly and we wished we could take him with us to the Dordogne.
My youngest jumped in the BMW with her sister and brother-in-law. Which, of course, left me with Oscar. (Dear God help me!) We did make it, we did. Thank heaven the French drive on the correct side of the road! The drive was beautiful. Would have been a little more beautiful if Oscar hadn’t killed the car in nearly every single roundabout. But I won’t complain. We made it to the market in Perigueux in one piece (barely). We needed to stock up on eggs, butter, veggies, CHEESE, bread, and of course, foie gras and duck and pork rillettes.
We were in the Perigord. The Perigord is known for its walnuts, foie gras, ducks and truffles.
Yes indeed, we made it to the lovely little village of La Roque Gageac although finding the steep, winding drive to the house was a challenge. We passed it four times. But it didn’t matter because the entire area was so beautiful.
Here’s what I like about France. The locals take pride in their country, their cities, their towns. There is no litter. Zero. I live in the Napa Valley. One would think the Napa Valley would be clean, scenic. I’m sorry, but there is garbage EVERYWHERE. Our highways and our waterways are littered with trash. I frakkin’ hate it. For shame fellow citizens. for shame!
We found the house and hauled our luggage up the steep Roman road, seriously a Roman road, found the key, found parking– which was our biggest challenge– and we moved in body and soul. Our home was the last home built into the cliffs. It was old, as in hundreds of years old, but remodeled- three bedrooms, three bathrooms, spotless, fully furnished, including a well-outfitted kitchen, and we were supplied with plenty of linens, owned by David who lived three doors down. We overlooked the Dordogne River and we walked to town every day on the old Roman road. Sometimes many times a day.
Tomorrow – Sarlat, my favorite fountain/Koi pond and we all meet the medieval (sorta) ghost. I’m thinking more 17th Century.
Love you Tom! XOXO! Julia