French trip, Day 4, Part 1
Sep. 9th, 2007 09:55 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wiseheartSorry for the delayed update. It took me a long time to edit my photos, and then came the latest work-related crisis of my life, and I simply didn't have the energy to do more about my illustrated online travelling journal.
But now I'm back again, to share with you the experience of Périgueux and the horrors of the Tour de France.
We reached Périgueux late in the evening. My poor Mum got the shock of her life, seeing that the quality of French roadside hotels is capable of spiral down steadily. I wasn't so shocked, as I've already made the experience of a Formula 1 hotel, many years earlier, when I came home from England through France with the language school.
In any case, this Premiere Class hotel was a fairly ugly one, but at least the breakfast was aplenty, which always makes Hungarians somewhat more mellow (although they wined that there was only jam and honey, no cheese, bacon and whatnot). Opposite the hotel was the small Chapelle St. Francois: a tiny, completely plain church made of concrete. It was beautifully simple in the inside, a welcome contrast to some of the pomp we were about to see in Périgueux.
Considering how very little time we were given for such small, lovely places as Thiers and Ussel, we've wasted a lot of it in the centre of Périgueux. We visited the Cathédrale St. Front, built in traditional Périgord style, which to me seems to be a strange mix of Roman and Byzantine. Mum liked it a lot, I was not very impressed, to tell the truth. I was so not impressed that I didn't even take a photo of it. The only photo I took there was of Mum, with the inevitable foun tain and a pretty house in the background.
It turned out that one of our fellow travellers, a friendly old gentleman, was an art historian. Unfortunately, that led to incredible long and boring discussions between him and our idiotic guide concerning every single building that came along. We made friends with some of the middle-aged, passionately travelling ladies.
From Périgueux, we continued our way through Dordogne to Beynac Castle, which is the most famous one in Dordogne. Well, that was the plan anyway. Unfortunately, we wasted so much time in Périgueux, where was barely anything to see (plus due to the idiocy of our guide who was unable to find out which roads would be closed off), that 6 kilometres from Beynac, we were stopped and turned back. The Tour de France was coming.
Now, if we had just sat on our backsides for an hour and a half, the TdF would have rolled through and we could have continued our way. But no, idiot guide wanted to be really clever (a bit delayed, I'd say), and talked the drivers into trying alternate routes. Funnily enough, as soon as we chose another road, it got promptly closed off. So we wasted the entire morning, never got to see Beynac, or Montrfort Castle, which was also in the original programme, and we still had to wait for the TdF roll by.
I must say, the French are completely insane when it comes to the TdF. Along the entire route, the population of France, from newborn babies to one-hundred-years-old grannies in wheelchairs, camped on the roadside, having a grand picnic and waiting for the approximately 8 seconds in which the bikers went by. We only were there for an hour and a half, but the local population spent the whole day there.
Two pics of Mum at the TdF. The chair is courtesy of the young French family, the parents of the baby she's playing with.
Next time: Domme, La Roque Gagéac and Sarlat. Stay tuned, it will be really pretty, with many pics, unike this entry.
But now I'm back again, to share with you the experience of Périgueux and the horrors of the Tour de France.
We reached Périgueux late in the evening. My poor Mum got the shock of her life, seeing that the quality of French roadside hotels is capable of spiral down steadily. I wasn't so shocked, as I've already made the experience of a Formula 1 hotel, many years earlier, when I came home from England through France with the language school.
In any case, this Premiere Class hotel was a fairly ugly one, but at least the breakfast was aplenty, which always makes Hungarians somewhat more mellow (although they wined that there was only jam and honey, no cheese, bacon and whatnot). Opposite the hotel was the small Chapelle St. Francois: a tiny, completely plain church made of concrete. It was beautifully simple in the inside, a welcome contrast to some of the pomp we were about to see in Périgueux.
Considering how very little time we were given for such small, lovely places as Thiers and Ussel, we've wasted a lot of it in the centre of Périgueux. We visited the Cathédrale St. Front, built in traditional Périgord style, which to me seems to be a strange mix of Roman and Byzantine. Mum liked it a lot, I was not very impressed, to tell the truth. I was so not impressed that I didn't even take a photo of it. The only photo I took there was of Mum, with the inevitable foun tain and a pretty house in the background.
It turned out that one of our fellow travellers, a friendly old gentleman, was an art historian. Unfortunately, that led to incredible long and boring discussions between him and our idiotic guide concerning every single building that came along. We made friends with some of the middle-aged, passionately travelling ladies.
From Périgueux, we continued our way through Dordogne to Beynac Castle, which is the most famous one in Dordogne. Well, that was the plan anyway. Unfortunately, we wasted so much time in Périgueux, where was barely anything to see (plus due to the idiocy of our guide who was unable to find out which roads would be closed off), that 6 kilometres from Beynac, we were stopped and turned back. The Tour de France was coming.
Now, if we had just sat on our backsides for an hour and a half, the TdF would have rolled through and we could have continued our way. But no, idiot guide wanted to be really clever (a bit delayed, I'd say), and talked the drivers into trying alternate routes. Funnily enough, as soon as we chose another road, it got promptly closed off. So we wasted the entire morning, never got to see Beynac, or Montrfort Castle, which was also in the original programme, and we still had to wait for the TdF roll by.
I must say, the French are completely insane when it comes to the TdF. Along the entire route, the population of France, from newborn babies to one-hundred-years-old grannies in wheelchairs, camped on the roadside, having a grand picnic and waiting for the approximately 8 seconds in which the bikers went by. We only were there for an hour and a half, but the local population spent the whole day there.
Two pics of Mum at the TdF. The chair is courtesy of the young French family, the parents of the baby she's playing with.
Next time: Domme, La Roque Gagéac and Sarlat. Stay tuned, it will be really pretty, with many pics, unike this entry.
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Date: 2007-09-10 02:18 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-09-10 05:38 am (UTC)