Sarlat Day Two: Taking (to) the Waters

Sadly, as I was writing this particular chapter, the whole dammed thing disappeared at midnight. Apparently the witching hour got it. So I'll start over and hope that this will be as good as the one I lost. Sheesh...

We left for town and the plaza/bus stop where we were to be picked up for our canoeing trip. Right on time (whew! That awkward phone call of the day before worked), a van emblazoned with "Canoes Loisir" pulled up and piled us in--no one else but the two of us. When we got to Vitrac, our starting point, it seemed that we were perhaps their only customers on this day, which was cloudy and a bit cooler than we'd been experiencing. We got fitted with our life jackets (it looked as if they were new for the coming high season), put our stuff in a watertight bucket, put on our water shoes, and...we were off, after a photo recording this event:

The woman in charge of this operation told us that the river was flowing deep and pretty swiftly, so it might take us only about three hours to go the 13 or so kilometers that we would navigate. We found that we had to do very little to keep moving in the right direction--or at least I had little to do as the first mate. Cap'n Cindy had it all under control behind me, and every once in a while she would allow me to do some rowing, just to keep me from whining about not having anything to do. She also had control of the camera, since the bucket o' belongings was behind me and I wasn't about to risk tipping the canoe to dig into it. So she took a short video of me showing off my prowess with an oar:

Note that fine oarsmanship.

And because I couldn't take pictures of Cap'n Cindy, she had to take her own--and she did a pretty good job:

It remained overcast and a bit cool, and probably for that reason, we had the river almost to ourselves. I think we may have encountered three or four fellow canoeists that day, along with one kayaker.

We did see two or three of the tour boats from La Roque-Gageac, that small town (below) that looks as if it's carved out of the rock wall (it probably was, back in the Middle Ages). These tour boats, which felt a bit predatory in the way they navigated the river without much regard for other boats, are fashioned after the medieval cargo barges used for moving and trading goods along the Dordogne River.

This region, known as the Perigord Noir, has a recorded history going back to prehistoric times, most famously the caves of prehistoric paintimgs and drawings (many of which are no longer open to the public due to environmental concerns). All of the caves still open to the public are closely monitored by the authorities to limit the number of annual visitors, etc.--or even shut them down permanently if deemed necessary.

But on this day, we were looking at modern-time remnants: the castles along the Dordogne--of which there are around 1500! This is the region where the Hundred Years' War was fought between English and French kings. Seems the French ultimately won out...

I have no inclination to celebrate wars, and I am not a fan of the separation of classes that has gone on since humankind first began gathering in groups. But I must admit that I just can't help but feel a sense of awe at the sight of castle after castle. I guess it's sort of the same reaction I have to the magnificent churches we've been seeing. They are monuments to what humans can do in their elevation of the powerful or spiritual. But at such human cost!

So today Cindy and I toiled along the river, two insignificant observers of those symbols of power and might. We just couldn't help ourselves in admiring those amazing structures.

Here is Vezac, with its village below.:

And the castle of Castelnaud-la-Chapelle:

In the Middle Ages, these castles were relatively impregnable, as the only way they could be reached was via the river.

And our favorite (more on this one in another chapter), Beynac-et-Cazenac:

It has a special feature that indicates the lordly distinction of this particular castle. That structure carved out of the rock that I've circled (below) is a pigeon house. Just expand the photo to see it better.

I can understand the value of the pigeon messaging service, but I pity the poor peon who was assigned to clamber down from on high to deliver a message to the pigeon keeper.

So just beyond Beynac, Cindy and I pulled out of the river, where the Canoes Loisir folks were waiting for us (only us; they had no other customers to wait for that afternoon). They drove us back to Vitrac, where we turned in our gear and settled the tip for the drivers, and were then driven back to downtown Sarlat.

But before we left, we asked how many canoes they would launch during their peak season of July-August. The answer was an astounding 500 or so canoes a day! And that's just one of a number of canoe rental places. I'm thinking that means the river might carry well over a thousand canoes a day--at a time when the water is lower and less capable of carrying numbers like that. We felt fortunate beyond words to have been on the river virtually alone that day.

Upon our return to town, we immediately stopped at a cremerie for one of the best meals we have had anywhere. Then back to the beautiful B&B for a bit of R&R before returning to town for dinner and a nighttime walking tour of the medieval village. That's the next chapter.

And so farewell to the magnificent river that gave us the ride of a lifetime. Here is a different view of it, taken from one of our stops on the next day:

And here's a teaser for the next chapter: Sarlat at night (actually, earlier in the evening here).

Till the next chapter...