The Garonne and the Dordogne

Friday and our last full day of touring before we have to head back to Bordeaux to catch the plane home on Sunday. Our car journey to the town of Souillac also turned into a bit of a fiasco and sent us off in directions unexpected.

We drove north east of La Roque-Gageac, really only a few miles, say 20, and we landed up in the Friday morning street market. Many interesting stalls with food, veges, clothes, shoes, "finger spinners" and the like. We ventured into the old Souillac Church "Les Amis Du Vieux Souillac", parts of which date from 1130 AD.

Much like the church in Perigueux, there are domes over the altar and main part of the church (transept and nave to be correct). The ceiling is badly stained and in need of renovation.

Once we had experienced enough of the morning markets we tried to head out of town, to wend our way back to La Roque. Well, many streets are closed off because of the market and many others are under the control of non-existent road repair crews - I'm sure they were at the market. Can you imagine how upset Samantha gets when one does not follow her exact turn directions? As I had never driven in Souillac until this morning, we had no idea of how to get out and find a marked "D" road - most all secondary roads leading out of and into French towns are numbered Dxx (xx donating the road number). Thus we did not know if we were Arthur or Martha, which direction to go in as every second street seemed to have been closed due to the non-existent road crews attention, with nary a Deviation sign.

Finally we seized the bull by the horn, turned off Samantha, spotted the town's aqueduct and made for it. Just our very good luck there was a Dxx road. OK, now input another town for Samantha to make for. Wrong; she loves back roads, the narrower the better, winding through rural French towns of 100 or less inhabitants, the smaller the better as far as she is concerned.

Once again seize the initiative and turn her off and make like Robinson Crusoe - just head in
a direction that seems to be going south west. By this time we badly needed a bathroom break and some lunch. Suddenly we came across a small cafe in the middle of one of those small towns, this time probably with a population of 650?

Imagine our surprise when the cafe was clean, well laid out and - wait for it!!!! - run by an Aussie (Chris) and his wife! She spoke English with an Aussie accent but that must have been because she learned her English with his accent. Anyway this lad was probably in his 30's, with a 2 1/2 year-old, in the middle of nowhere, France. Turns out the owner was his dad, also from Sydney. Together they own and run this small establishment. He used to be a surfer and motor-bike rider in Sydney but came to France 3+ years ago, got married and seems to have settled down.

Great lunch, potty-break and a chat later and we returned to a hot car and doing battle with Samantha. Found our way back to the hotel where we are now hold up until the heat dissipates somewhat.

By the way, for the lads at the Museum, we cannot shake Klio Hobbs off the French roads here - he's everywhere!