Dordogne: It’s Cave-a-licious!

Dordogne, Carcassonne and Collioure. Now it’s time talk about our little two-week stint over the summer that brought together our boys and a friend (let’s call her M) and her teenage daughters. It was quite the operation. Overall it was a success. There were some bumps in the road for sure, including one that claimed a hubcap from our rental car, but when you’re fueled by wine and frites at every meal, it’s hard not to have a good time.

First there was the train ride down. Gotta love that no one ever checked our tickets. Also gotta love that the Avis rental car place looked like this.

Umm, that doesn’t look good.

Huh? I wasn’t shocked. By now, it’s like, “Oh the rental car place is closed down, and we have no way of getting to our destination? Sounds about right.” I know better than to waste my rage. C’est la vie.

But of course the Avis rental car place was in another location inside this rinky-dink hotel/brasserie that had some teensy weensy sign. Not sure how Rebecca caught it. Sometimes you have to think to yourself, “If I were a business and wanted to be the least accommodating to my customers without actually doing nothing, what would I do?” And then you would find the French solution.

We had two cars for the 7 of us. No minivans had been available. There was no option for navigation system either. We had to kick it old school: looking at maps and following signs. The ladies led the way in the front car and I followed. I have to say, they did a bang up job. Sure there were a few times we had to perform multiple loops around the roundabouts before deciding on an exit–there may have even been one extra loop thrown in just to mess with me–but hey, it was all part of the fun.

The place where we stayed was great. Gîte la Roche. Big. No pool, but there was a river down the road that was great fun.  And there was a snack bar/restaurant right there so we could always refuel on what became a staple of almost every meal: wine and frites.

So our friend’s teenage girls were very cool and helped us with the little ones. I tell you, it’s always great working a zone, when the number of child-monitors outnumbers children. You only work when a child enters your area.  It’s even better when some of those monitors are under the authority of another parent and can be controlled to control other, younger children.  But hey, I kid the teen moms, as they came to be known.

It was great catching up with M. The last time we saw her kids they were super-little. I think I carried one of them in a Baby Bjorn. Crazy.

In between all the frites and wine we managed to have a lot of laughs. During the first couple of nights, I ended up telling humiliating stories about myself that I swore I would never tell again. Somehow they got me to tell them. Admittedly, after a few glasses of wine it doesn’t take a whole lot of prodding.

The trip was not all wine and frites. Sometimes we replaced frites with foie gras. Or just added it in. Amist the gorging, we did manage to do and see some cool stuff as well. So here are some of the highlights of the first leg of our trip, from a tourist perspective.

Yes, that is Owen in a knight’s hood.

We saw the City of Domme. We rode le petit train, which the kids always insist on whenever they see one. We also got ice cream, admired the views, and just laid low. There were also some great cities to walk around in and castles to check out. The town of Sarlat was fun little place to explore. And the boys got to strip down in their underwear and frolic in a fountain. Can’t beat that.

One castle did some shows, but they were in French, so they didn’t really grab the interest of English-speaking teenagers, but the boys loved it! It’s called Chateau de Castelnaud and for the six and under crowd it’s a must see.

There were catapults, guys forging steel for weapons, ramparts and passageways to explore, and interactive tools explaining life in the castle. It was all right up the boys’ alley. We also found the history of the area and these castles interesting. As with everything, we learned the most from reading Rick Steves. Like the Catharists? That was some cold shit there. Let’s just say their run in with the Church/King of France didn’t go so well.

Canoeing the river is a must, but even though the guidebooks say you can do it with little kids, no one under 5 is allowed. So I grabbed a beer and a sandwich for P that was longer than him and we went a boat cruise together, while Rebecca, because of her superior French skills, helped our friends navigate the tricky waters of hiring and returning canoes. (Turns out they all speak English, so not so tricky, but still.)

P and I also walked up this hill town. La Roque-Gageac. Got our hike on, poked our heads in a church, and chilled for the most part.  We had some quality time together.

The most memorable attractions, for a number of reasons, were the caves with the prehistoric drawings.  We somehow managed to get all our asses up and out the door to be on line at 7 am to get tickets for this cave: La Grotte de Fond de Gaume.  One of the last remaining original prehistoric art drawings, and they only let a certain amount of people in per day for preservation reasons. We had the kids hooked up with movies and teen moms played hide and seek with the boys while we camped out. O and P went from fond of these big kids to full-on in love.

So we were in this line that started near the entrance and winded up a ramp and back down again to the parking lot. It had potential disaster written all over it, especially in France where lines are a vague concept and over half the population doesn’t think they need to follow rules.

Rebecca was predicting doom. She thought it would be a mess when the doors opened and people rushed to buy tickets. I tried to be reassuring. “Please,” I said, “No one would dare cut. The line is obvious, and we’ve been here since 7AM.” But I wasn’t believing the words coming out of my mouth.

The guy with the sandals and black socks? Don’t f with him.

Luckily there were some shit-kickers in the group. One was this Australian dude who had been there the day before and missed the cut off for tickets by one person. He was determined. He literally yelled “bullshit” at someone who tried to get in line claiming they had saved a spot earlier.  When we struck up a conversation later he was of course a very nice man, but he had a look like someone who would gut you for looking at him wrong and then carry on his day like nothing happened. So when he called out BS, people listened.

The above pics are actually from a local restaurant that had a cave, since we couldn’t take photos of the actual cave art.

Then the gates open and the snake of a line began to move. Would it hold? All indications seemed like it would. And then there was one woman who tried to sneak in a few spots ahead of us. I didn’t even see her. But a guy a few paces behind me caught it. He wasn’t the insane Australian guy, but he spoke French, and he would not let up on this woman. She was caught but had no embarrassment of being caught and held her ground.

Cutting lines is serious business in France. These people are ready to be caught and they’ll have excuses. Sure, their excuses are lame, but they’re hoping you weren’t expecting a confrontation. I’ve seen it work too. Not this day though. Woo-wee, this was not a crowd to mess with. And for good reason: when you show up at 6:30 to be ensured of getting in, you don’t want the late-sleepers to get ahead. It’s only logical.

This woman tried to say she had been there and someone saved her spot or something, I couldn’t follow. But man, this dude went after her, and she relented. I should’ve bought him a round of wine and frites.

We got tickets, but it was close. People had been snagging six spots per person. Totally not cool! We could only get 6 tickets for one visit and 1 for another. Someone would have to stay behind. Rebecca volunteered.

At the time it seemed like a noble act but the way it played out, she ended getting a pretty sweat deal. We had the boys. O wanted to be right next to me the whole time we were in the caves, which was cute. It would’ve been fine too if I had not had P climbing on me like a monkey and making noises like a monkey. At one point he tried to pull down my shirt and said he wanted to nurse. I swear, I’m not making that up. All the while I’m trying to listen in French.

Then one of the kids said that they saw mommy. That couldn’t be, I thought, her tour didn’t start for another hour. Turned out, the tour before her wasn’t full so they let her join. It was in ENGLISH! So there’s Rebecca, who has the best French skills of any of the adults, listening in English with no kids.

Anyway, it was still pretty awesome. Paintings from 5000 years ago? Insane I tell you. Although it did remind me of this:

There was also La Roque Saint-Cristophe. Wow this was cool! Really, really fun. People were living in these cave-like holes in the side of cliff throughout history. Cavemen, people from the middle ages, etc.

It was fascinating stuff. It’s a win-win for adults and kids. You can see where people lived, went to church, prepared food. You can also see how they transported food up the side of the cliff and warned about attacks. It was fascinating. The kids ate it up.

I highly recommend it. What I don’t recommend is that you drive back, get lost and take the curviest route possible with a child who gets car sick. Oh boy. At least we got him out of the car before he threw up!

But that type of things just comes with the territory. Onward and upward. More wine! More frites!

Next stop Carcassonne, with a detour in Albi, home of the Toulouse Lautrec museum. Did you know that guy had booze hidden in his cane?