Safe Return Doubtful

Rocamadour’s situation, set into the cliffs of a gorge on a tributary of the Dordogne river, has attracted tourists and pilgrims since its beginnings in the twelfth century. Most come for its historical monuments and its Notre Dame Sanctuary, but there are of course plenty of bars, restaurants and souvenir shops. The town is known for its soft goat’s cheese. It is excellent, and reasonably priced in the local supermarkets. 

Parking is for a fee anywhere close by, except out of season. Charges begin at the start of April, and are 12 euros a day in the motorhome area, which fills quickly. But at the moment, in changeable weather, it is free, and there were six other vans when I arrived. 

There were a couple of hikes that had enticed me, which give great views of the gorge and the town from across to its other side. 

On arrival in the late afternoon we took the steep paths and stairs down to the bottom of the town, wandered around for a while, and then returned up the Grand Escaliers. There are lifts and a funicular for those less inclined towards exercise. Out of perhaps forty bars and restaurants, I saw two open, but neither attracted me enough to visit. 

The following day in warm weather for the time of year, though with thundery showers expected in the afternoon, Roja and I walked down the valley for an hour or so, before crossing L’Anzou river, climbing the cliff path steeply, and returning on rarely used forest trails to earn a fine view of Rocamadour. 

Back at the van I spent the afternoon chatting with a few van people. An English guy who lived in France was the author of an (as yet, after 25 years..) unfinished novel. He had studied writing for a PhD, and when we corresponded on GoodReads we found that we shared 12 friends. He was away for a week, touring around the Bordeaux area with a friend. 

In another van was a woman writing for a travel website. I’ve met a few such people on my travels, but this way of making a living seems a lot more difficult these days. 

This morning we spent on another hiking loop that took in the surrounding countryside before taking a path plunging into the gorge and returning once again through the Grand Escalier of Rocamadour. 

There had been isolated thunderstorms in the last few days, but this afternoon they were more concentrated. By the time the rain arrived I had driven for an hour roughly in a northwesterly direction, across the Dordogne river to the Eyrignac Manor House and Gardens. From here there is a trail I am keen to investigate, and as I had hoped, it is an ideal place to stay.