At Leisure
Labastide Murat
I'd
booked all my accommodation on the Internet (of course) and the reason
I was heading for the inconspicuous town of Labastide Murat was the
irresistably bad English of the description of the town's hotel. Let me
quote from some of the sheer, unintentional poetry: "Comfortable, soundproofed, air-conditioned rooms and which do not
resemble themselves. Each has its color, Each one its tenderness, to
express the Charm by a residence of XIIe century." and "After the emotion lived during your ballades on our odorous and secret Causse, let you allure by the Gastronomy quercynoise." Well, both the room, which indeed did not resemble itself, and the Gastronomy quercynoise were very good indeed.
That's my room in the centre, directly above the front door (and that's
my rented, blue Pugeot below it). What a pleasure it was to wake up
each morning and open the shutters onto the view of the town square.
Labastide Murat doesn't have the classic bastide structure of an
arcaded central square, but it is a pretty town. Also facing onto the
square was a café-tabac so quintessentially French, it might
have been planted there by the tourist board.
The hotel's restaurant was popular with the locals, which is always a
good sign, and it didn't disappoint. I had dinner there on several
evenings
.
Cahors
My first expedition was to Cahors, a short distance to the South. Its
most famous landmark is the beautiful Pont Valentré bridge,
defended to the last against the hated English. I think. Anyway, it's
really eye-catching. I would have to suggest that it's somewhat
over-restored though. This was somethng that occurred to me a number of
times in France. While in Italy (in San Gimignano, say) everything is
tastefully decrepit, in France there's a tendency to scrub the ancient
stones too clean.
Cahors town today comes in essentially two parts: the warren of
medieval streets in the South-East corner, and the elegant,
nineteenth-Century part to the West. To be honest, I preferred the
clean, open, classic lines of the more modern town, with the fountains
and square of Place CDG. The old town, well, to contradict myself,
hasn't been restored enough. It's a bit squalid and authentically
medieval for my tastes.
The beautiful blue sky in the photos is a genuine indicator of the
weather. The dashboard of my Pugeot was showing an absolutely accurate
outside temperature of 28 degrees. On the 22nd of October. It was a
heatwave that made the newspapers.
Sarlat
Sarlat-le-Caneda is just georgeous to a romantic medieval junkie like
me. I'd deliberately chosen to go on market day, so it was very busy. I
suspect that in the height of the tourist season it might become
unbearably crowded.
I pottered happily through the ancient little streets and courts,
brilliant shafts of warm sunshine lighting the way. Like San Gimignano,
Sarlat retains enough authenticity and real life to overcome the
inevitable touristy trappings.
