The Dordogne: An Enduring Affair

While much of France converges on the Mediterranean coast, Roger Moss decides to reacquaint himself with the peaceful villages of the Dordogne.

Rivers have a way of imposing their will upon the landscape. Less visibly than mountains, certainly, but the effects, in their own way, can be no less profound. Take the Dordogne, for example. The name is by now so familiar to overseas visitors as to have become almost a cliché in itself, for it was here that countless great lifelong love affairs with France began. But the area in and around the administrative département named after the great river is more commonly referred to in France as 'le Périgord', bounded by Limousin to the north, Quercy to the south and subdivided into several distinct areas. Given such apparent diversity, the near-universal love at first sight reaction is all the more intriguing.

My own western approach begins, as usual, on the road to Périgueux, with the cryptic convolutions of Angoulême's legendary traffic system firmly behind me. The initial sense of heady liberation among the expansive undulations of Charente is, however, short-lived. The effect is at first barely perceptible, but by the time I slip across the border into Dordogne near the improbably-named la Rochebeaucourt-et-Argentine, the gentle sweeping bends around the contours of the land have evolved into a succession of tight twists and turns. Ahead, deep in a wooded valley, lies Brantôme, where a vast, elegant Benedictine Abbey doesn't have to try too hard to upstage the ancient huddle of stone houses, narrow streets and dark alleyways on the opposite bank of the River Dronne. Thought to have been founded during the 9th Century, the abbey was gifted various relics of Saint Sicaire (a martyr of the Slaughter of the Holy Innocents) by Charlemagne, instantly establishing it as a place of great religious importance. Although much of what is visible today actually dates from the 16th Century, the monumental four-storey Romanesque clocher, built on a separate rocky outcrop, is thought to be the oldest surviving example in all France; beneath its mostly-11th Century masonry evidence has been uncovered of considerably earlier construction, probably dating from the Carolingian and even Visigoth periods. Behind the abbey are the fountain of Saint Sicaire (whose waters are said to possess curative powers for those with fertility problems) plus a group of caves gouged from the limestone cliffs, complete with Crucifixion and Last Judgement scenes carved during the 15th and 16th Centuries.

The August crowds may be still some months off, yet it's already abundantly clear that Saint-Jean-de-Côle has been the subject of a subtle invasion. With its exquisitely-restored ancient façades warmed by the slowly-sinking sun, Saint-Jean is like the perfect period film-set, whose casting director has shipped most of his extras over from the UK; the British, both resident and transient, are here in force. Despite this the essential spirit of the village survives, particularly among the narrow alleyways hidden behind the square with its monolithic feudal château, covered market and substantial 12th Century église. The latter originally boasted a cathedral-sized stone cupola until it collapsed during the 18th Century. After costly rebuilding it did so once again a century later. This time the point was taken and the gaping circular void was replaced by today's plain wooden planking.

Some way below the nearby town of Thiviers lies Pèrigueux, hardly qualifying as a village, but in its own way absolutely unmissable. It's also the gateway to some of Dordogne's most celebrated touring country, radiating from le Bugue. This curiously compelling, retro-chic riverside town is home to the Aquarium du Périgord Noir plus museums dedicated to both modern and prehistoric French wildlife. Nearby are several caverns occupied (and often extravagantly decorated) by prehistoric man, plus the Jardins d'Arborie, a collection of exotic plants set in an idyllic location in the valley of the Vèzère. The river is already a formidable presence even before it joins forces with the Dordogne just a few kilometres downstream at Limeuil, where an ancient château was conceived to protect the rivers' confluence. It still dominates the stone cottages rising in steep tiers from what was once an important barge port.

Beyond Limeuil the river flexes its newly-acquired extra muscle in a series of assertive meanders known locally as cingles. Limeuil's, like that of nearby Tremolat, can be best appreciated from a panoramic roadside viewpoint. Tremolat achieved lasting celebrity status when Claude Chabrol came here in 1970 to film much of Le Boucher. Today, despite the inevitable signs of prosperity, you can still see why. True, it now has a popular restaurant and a gracious country hotel, but the core small businesses remain and the junior school is also alive and well, still occupying a wing of the mairie in the central square, proving that Tremolat is a long way from being just one more up-market retirement village. And there's also a heavily-fortified 12th Century village church, complete with an upper defensive chamber to which the entire population could retreat should the need arise, to recall the not-so-good times of the past.

Even more massively-constructed, yet arguably more trusting in its essential nature, is the 11th Century Cistercian Abbey of Cadoin, whose vast slate roof rises above the surrounding trees in a narrow valley on the edge of the Forêt de la Bessède, a few kilometres south of the river. The Abbey's famous Holy Shroud (claimed to have been that in which the head of Christ was wrapped) made Cadouin an important centre of religious pilgrimage for centuries, until forensic examination dated the shroud from probably no earlier than the 11th Century. Today's visitors come to view the Abbey's 15/16th Century flamboyant Gothic cloisters, funded by Louis XI, and to find cooling respite from the summer sun in the interior of the vast nave. Convincingly dwarfed by the abbey's colossal façade is Cadouin's ancient covered market, bordered by a shady square of mature plane trees and looking in pristine condition after its recent ground-up restoration. The village is also home to the Musèe du Vélocipède de Cadouin, which can confidently claim to possess the world's most important collection of early bicycles. Hobby-horses, penny-farthings, tandems, tricycles, quadricycles. they're all right here, and beautifully displayed. Quite apart from their technical interest, the 100 or so exhibits include such historically important items as a bicyclette from the very first Tour de France, the vélocipède owned by Jules Verne, plus the draisienne (forerunner of even the velocipede) of Victor Hugo.

If, despite its obvious attractions, Cadouin remains comparatively little-known to UK visitors, the same could hardly be said of Monpazier, located a little further south near the borders of Dordogne and Lot-et-Garonne. Long regarded as one of the most attractive bastide villages of the south, it was originally constructed with a more serious role in mind, namely the protection of the key trade routes between the river Dordogne and the Agennais territories. Built by order of Edward I, King of England (and, at the time, Duke of Aquitaine), the village represented one of the final stages in the colonisation of the Pèrigord region. Even after almost 800 often turbulent years, the geometrical grid layout of the new-town plan, developed on a simple rectangular plot measuring 400m x 220m, remains strikingly evident. As originally constructed, every house was identical in size and separated from its neighbour by a narrow alleyway, in order to minimise the risk of fire spreading. Three of the six original gateways have also survived, but it's the Place des Cornières, which grabs most of the attention. Bounded by stone arcades, the village square still retains its medieval covered market, complete with its collection of early weights and measures. But the leisurely atmosphere is deceptive. 300 years ago the Place was the scene of the torture and execution of a local weaver who has become the figurehead of a peasants' uprising some years after the Wars of Religion. Cornières? They're simply the sturdy angle-iron brackets inserted into the ancient stone façades to provide extra stability.

The cross-country route to my next stop at Domme is far from direct, but rewards patience with some impressive scenery, including a fleeting glimpse of the distant 15th Century Château des Milandes in which Josephine Baker spent her later years dedicating herself to caring for abandoned children, in her Village du Monde. The famous bird's-eye views of the meandering Dordogne from Domme's panoramic Belvedère de la Barre are as popular as ever.

In the valley below, places like Beynac and la Roque-Gageac look implausibly photogenic in the stillness of evening. Hidden away between the two, set high on a rocky escarpment, lie the remarkable Jardins Suspendus de Marquayssac, a riotous expression of the art of topiary, from the formal to the distinctly free-form. There must be something in the local air, for there's another virtuoso topiary-themed garden to be found not far way. But the mood in the Jardins du Manoir d'Eyrignac is, however, very different, with meticulously-manicured formal planting and a white rose garden in a sheltered setting, earning it no fewer than three Michelin stars for attraction value (and Monument-Historique status).

Rooftop view of Sarlat-la-Canéda

With a cathedral and a resident population of around 10 000 Sarlat is perhaps not an obvious contender of inclusion in a village itinerary, but like Périgueux it's an essential stop if time permits.

Les Eyzies, despite its modest appearance, has been described as the most important archaeological centre in Europe, thanks to its countless celebrated prehistoric sites discovered around the surrounding valleys. A wealth of artefacts from the area is on permanent display in the Musée National de Préhistoire, housed within the former château of the barons of Beynac, overlooking Les Eyzies.

By now time is fast running out and it's clear that this particularly remarkable corner of Pèrigord will have to wait until a future return visit can do it justice. And as I retrace my route towards Pèrigueux, Angoulême and home, I realise that my all-too-brief last stop feels like a metaphor for the whole tour. Pèrigord - Dordogne, if you prefer - has a habit of seducing the visitor instantly with its picture-postcard appearance and general lack of extremes. Even the very landscape can often feel like a vision of how England might just have looked, given more space and a better climate. Maybe. But there's something else. Experiencing a feeling is one thing; describing it quite another. Henry Miller took a stab at putting his finger on it when he arrived here in the 1930s, concluding that it was 'destined to remain forever a sacred place for mankind.'. I'll leave you to decide.

© Words and pictures Roger Moss
The full version of this feature first appeared in everything France magazine Issue 15

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