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Date walked: 11th October 2016

Distance: about 14 miles

Todays route is between the two black lines on the thick red line

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This was our 2nd day of  our self-guided walk booked through Keith Starr of Dordogne Experience. We had been supplied with  extracts of the 1:25000 maps for each day’s walk, together with a detailed turn by turn description of the route; our bags were being transferred between hotels.

To set the scene:we had stayed last night in Le Relais Du Quercy at Meyssac.

Meyssac itself was an attractive village and, after 7pm at least, as quiet as the grave! We had found a very nice (Bob reckoned predominantly gay) bar for a couple of pre-dinner beers and where our playing crib (no great wins or losses on either side) attracted some interest from the locals. Dinner at the hotel had been pretty good in a rather elegant but  somewhat “designed” dining room.

Oh, look, there’s me in the mirror

The nicely dressed starter of two pieces of melon….

Not sure about the boiled egg

….was followed by a confit of Duck with roasted potatoes (nice, no veg) , but it was the cheese board that excited us most. They actually left it on the table, which meant we helped ourselves to several huge (by French standards) portions each….

Looking at this I think we were quite modest

; to do this justice Bob ordered a second bottle of local wine. Well, we were on holiday.

There’s a definite glint in his eyes

Now for today.

I had had a very comfortable night. The breakfast pastries were fresh and the only thing missing was some fruit. I don’t think the French have cottoned on to 5 a day. We were on the road by 9.30am.

For the first couple of miles we were following a quiet road towards the hamlet of Cruges. On either side were walnut groves, their nuts bursting out of their thick green pods….

…..and littering the road and verges.

No one seemed to be interested in collecting these – probably cos everyone has enough for their personal needs

We began our education in how much pressure to apply between boot and road to crack open the cases without reducing the sweet fresh nuts to pulp (not much).

Walnuts were obliviously the most important crop of the area, with signs pointing to sellers of the oil.

Cruges was announced by a damaged metal cross mounted on a multi-tiered stone plinth.

A rather pretty but worse for wear summer-house in the garden of an impressive house caught my eye….

… as did a group of sturdy farm buildings that had used the local red sandstone.

For some posh pigs?

This was easy walking through mixed woodland, but with few views out to the countryside. We thought that Keith (the writer of our notes), might have used a strange mound of rocks with a metal vent pipe in its middle as a marker, but we had no problem keeping to our route.

Any suggestions as to its function?

At  the tiny hamlet of Bois Vidal we headed east, now joining the GR (Grand Route) 480 footpath. Stone tracks, grazed fields, deciduous woods and occasional tidy farms characterised this gently undulating countryside.

When  grand views are not on offer it can be the small things that one notices and a rock hanging from a cord on a tree had us stumped as to its purpose.

Any ideas?

We argued with Keith a little on the approach to Branceilles, where we would have reckoned a “turn left” should have been a “keep straight on”, and we thought that the newly built “Station de Branceilles” could be used as a marker to keep us on the straight and narrow.

I think this was some kind of council depot

The hamlet of Greze just before Branceilles had some very pretty abandoned properties…

Amazed that such a nice place has not been snapped up for rehabilitation

… and on the wall of one in good repair, a very pretty dog.

Any dog breed experts out there?

Branceilles looked large enough to be able to offer us a cup of coffee…..

…. but alas, cafes and bars was there none (or at least none that Bob saw on a quick shufty).

Nice place

At the edge of the village Keith’s notes directed us to turn left for Puy ‘L’ecole…

We were to look out for a small house with a leaning chimney, which we found……

I think I would have the builders in before it falls down

( It was curious in two respects as there was a sign on its post box saying “Pas de Pub”)

What?

…..and a small stream, which we didn’t find.

Still on the GR480 footpath, we passed a substantial stone cross…

I wonder who paid for all there crosses

… and then climbed gently on a rough stone track towards Curemonte….

…. arguing at times with some details in Keith’s notes but not to the extent of feeling that we had gone the wrong way. We passed another mound with a vent with a little building on its side…….

Hobbit houses?

….. emerging into open countryside just above Curemonte.

A pretty orientation table  deserved a pause….

…. as did the view over this next of the Beaux Villages that we would pass through during the week.

Jolly pretty

Curemonte boasts a fine iron cross and a grotto.

It seems to me that one or other should have been placed elsewhere.

It was, indeed, a pretty village; I rather liked a detail on the wall of an old forge.

We found ourselves  outside a restaurant/bar called La Barbacane which was just setting up for lunch. A casual look at the menu was all it took for us to make the unprecedented and unanimous decision to have lunch. At 12.00 we were the second customers to occupy a table. By 12.30 the place was nearly full. This was one of those places that clearly serve the local working people as well as passers by; some men were in their overalls. The quite feisty but friendly waitress offered soup, then Tete du Veau and, if I remember rightly, an apple flan. We admitted to being unenthusiastic about the veal so she offered Boef Bourguignon instead, which we were both happy with.

The soup – an earthy vegetable was delivered in a serve-yourself bowl, (a new one on me),  containing one and a half servings each.

What is the significance of Bench?

The stew was good, served with boiled potatoes and some veg, though these were paddling in tepid water. The flan was ok. This was not fine eating but  the atmosphere and feel of the place was so “genuine” that we both enjoyed the meal enormously.

It was pushing 2pm when we left. We toyed with the idea of finding a quiet spot for a doze, but agreed to defer that treat until the end of the days walk.

We continued on the GR 480, which took a little lane down from Curemonte to the valley of the River Sourdoire. Here, fields of sweetcorn destined to be animal fodder had yet to be harvested.

One field that had been cleared revealed the owners veg plot, which seemed a strange place to put it.

Maybe some clever companion planting technique?

Leaving the valley we climbed gently through woods and meadows again;I spyed a buzzard that was the look out for a meal.

At the top of the hill, near Le Breuil, a pair of donks rushed up who were also clearly expecting to be fed. They kicked up the most almighty racket when we offered them no more than a pat on the head.

They look so placid, don’t they?

Dropping from there through woods, we arrived at the D144 where Keith directed us to cross the bridge and then go straight at the cross roads; these roads we had been on were almost completely without traffic. In fact the entire countryside seemed to be without people!

We left the road after about half a mile near a hamlet called Sennac, taking a steepish narrow track through mostly chestnut woods.

Another half a mile brought us to the D153 ….

….where we concluded, after some deliberation and a few hundred metres in the wrong direction, that when Keith had advised “turn left” he had missed out a “turn right”. Anyway,  we did find the correct track that zigzagged down the hill to a large pond at Doumazac. If it had lillies when Keith was last there, it had none now.

Nice house

From there for a mile or so our route was through a wood of mostly conifer.

First conifer we had come across

It was there we met the only people we had seen walking on our path for two days – an elderly man with what I took to be his daughter. After a cheery “Bonjour” he enquired whether  “Vouz cherchez les champignons ?” We mumbled something unintelligible and smiled. In times past I would have been able to manage a better reply.

This track joined a road and we were climbing again – still on the GR480 – for about a mile, passing several rather attractive but not in the least bit smart properties…

… and one that was both attractive and smart.

Architecturally sympathetic but lacking character

At the top of this road Keith advised us that we were at an “impressive vantage point”. Perhaps we were being singularity unobservant but although we could glimpse some distant hill, neither of us we overly impressed.

From this ridge at around 1,000 feet, we followed what Keith describes as an old mule track that wiggles down the valley side….

…. giving us our first glimpse through the trees of the Dordogne river.

The path was lined with ferns and unusually, pulmonaria.

It is a native plant, so not a garden escapee

It flattened out towards the bottom….

…. before dropping steeply immediately above Beaulieu-sur-Dordogne.

Our next Plus Beaux village

Beulieu was bustling. We followed the road into the centre; the Hotel Le Beaulieu where we were staying was situated in a quiet square just off the main road and immediately made a good impression on us.

Bob’s room was the one above the doorway with a balcony

We were warmly greeted and we loved the rooms (sorry, no pics); I was happy for Bob to have chosen the room above the square – mine was at the back and no doubt the quieter of the two (I’m mildly phobic about noise). Tomorrow was designated as a rest day so we were here for two nights. Yipee!

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We had time for a gentle walk around town and a snooze before supper. The highlight for me was the beautiful Abbatiale Saint Pierre. Here’s a few pics.

HAPPY CHRISTMAS!