Birthday

I don't know how people blog for a living. It takes time and effort and forward planning. I'm really tired today because of staying up really late braving the neufbox connexion to the world and the idiosyncrasies of blogspot. All in all, it's a pretty seamless process if it all goes well, but every now and then strange things happen to fonts and justification, and there's no justification for that.

I get a bit behind and then don't give the process my proper attention, so the blog becomes more like a diary full of events but devoid of experience.

I feel like I've had an extended birthday this year. There are two reasons for this. The first is that for various logistic reasons we decided to have a meal out together the day before my birthday so that Ben could participate, since he was going to trek to Toulouse (see what I did there?) on before the evening meal on my special day, and the second reason being that I started getting Facebook wishes on the 25th of June here in France, on account of the time difference. I'm not a big Facebook user: I probably only check it once a week, but I flick stuff onto it from other apps which gives the impression that I on regularly. I'm more a Facebook dumper, but my connected progeny sent me verbal alerts "Hey Michael, xxxx sent you a birthday greeting". I really appreciated It and can see how social media becomes very important for some people.

Anyway, back to June 26th. Despite my resolution to have a sleep in, the attraction of a morning ride with Mary with the added incentive of some mist which might have been photographically good, was irresistible. We had been gradually construction a rosette of routes radiating from Belves, so we added another petal, heading out through Montplaisant,

passing many teenagers on their way to high school. One guy was trudging so slowly, it seems he was pretty unenthusiastic about his forthcoming day. Conspicuous was the lack of bicycles. Everyone seemed to get there by car, walking or bus. Whizzing down the hill we were soon in the countryside and exploring small routes through the forest and lanes between major roads.

 back to Belves

We had a bit of a time limit because of a prearranged breakfast time and Viv's need to get to a local market. Domme  seemed to fit the bill.

Domme is a beautiful ancient perched village high over the Dordogne, seemingly on its own massif, with a narrow, winding approach and narrow winding streets.

Should we?

It's a tourist magnet, and the market is pitched accordingly; not much in the way of local produce here, with a multitude of imported items such as carvings, carpets, and clothing. We sampled the two main varieties of strawberry here. One is a deeper red, slightly softer and has a rich strong strawberry. One of my highlights here was a brief chat with a local who pulled up in this very snazzy all electric car. Because it's so hilly, his range is only 28km, but in the very narrow streets, this vehicle is so practical. 

Touristy markets offer a contrasting experience. On the one hand they beckon, with the colour, the variety and the ease of the well practised ritual of exchange.. no French language skills required to hand your money over and receive your prize. On the other hand they repel me… so false compared with the local produce markets that ooze authenticity. The commercial markets don't have the conviviality.. the spontaneity of locals having a chat, and ignoring you while they finish their social ritual. The focus is on you, and the eye contact burns your eyes, forcing acknowledgment or averting gaze. 

Leaving the market, what to do next? Revisit the Dordogne, and its deceptively calm surface waters. Viv and Will were keen on canoeing, so we relived the Deliverance day.

one handed paddle technique by Mary

Serenity ruined

Bombing Beynac

The others disappeared to prepare dinner,

Waving goodbye.. would I ever see them again?

 and I set off, firstly along the Dordogne, then trying little lanes.. anything to avoid the main drag. This was largely successful.. my first encounters were with tractors, not cars.

Abandoned, but must have been impressive when it did whatever it used to do.

Eventually I came across a decommissioned steel bridge and taking a clever track along the south side of the river,

  I ended up on a path that became gravel and finally petered into a farmers field.. a weird experience riding alongside a corn plantation following faint tractor tracks, emerging onto a cul de sac between 3 residences, barking dogs heralding my arrival from an unconventional direction.

 Crossing the highway I was soon ascending … ascending… ascending. I asked directions from a family preparing for a horseride and they pointed me the direction, warning me it was steep with inclined arms. The ascent was gradual, and hot, with cool breeze in the forest near St Germaine de Belves,

 but soon I was hooting down into the Vezerre valley into familiar territory… and back up to Belves. It had been a couple of hours of peaceful pedalling.. very satisfying.

Dinner was roast chicken, roast duck, roast veggies, followed by apricots and cream then cornettos.. YUM!