GOING GREEN IN THE LAND OF THE GAULS
Martin Briggs takes a bike ride through the emerald heart of France
Place your finger on the midpoint of a map of France and you won’t be far from the city of Limoges. Famous for its porcelain products, Limoges lies on the Vienne River in the region known as the “Périgord Vert”. The Green Périgord is one of the most rural regions in France, little changed since pre-Roman times when it was home to the Gauls. The attractions of the Périgord region had come to our attention on a previous bicycling tour along the Dordogne River.
That route took my wife, Sue, and me from Bordeaux past Bergerac and Salat-laCanéda as far east as Figeac. By the time we had returned to Bordeaux along the Lot and Garonne rivers, diverting to visit such delights as Rocamadour and Saint-Cirque Lapopie, we had been persuaded that the sparsely populated river valleys draining into the Dordogne from the north would provide a suitable venue for a subsequent cycling tour.
It took all of 10 years before we finally drew up our plans to cycle as far south from Limoges along the Dronne River as our allotted three weeks allowed.
Just as Portsmouth has evolved as our favourite point of embarkation by ferry to Europe, so has St-Malo become our favourite port of entry to France. We were reminded of the reasons this city-port welcomes many English visitors as we pedalled along the impressive ramparts affording fairytale views across the wide beaches to fortified islands scattered offshore.
At the SNCF station we carefully plotted our train trip to Thiviers, just south of Limoges. By avoiding the super-quick TGV trains, we would not have to dismantle our bicycles and pack them in the requisite housse (bike bag).
Fortune favoured us as the enterprising SNCF official in St-Malo plotted a TER (Terroir or “country rail”) route, including train changes at Angers and Tours, with which we were familiar from previous cycle tours along the Loire River valley. At these two stops, there was sufficient time to cycle down to view the Loire as it meandered lazily through meadows in all its romantic splendour.
From the railway carriage, we recognised the lofty château at Saumur — a reminder of the splendour of the royal châteaux for which the Loire is famous.
The campground outside Limoges, Camping d’Uzarat, proved difficult to find, but the saving grace was the restaurant Les Ables du Bistrot, a renovated barn nearby that provided adequate replenishment.
As we exited the train station in Thiviers, a farmers’ market was in progress in the main thoroughfare. Agriculture is prominent in the relatively unpopulated Périgord region, and the farmers were promoting rural activities, with local produce on offer.
Miel (honey), jus de pomme (apple juice) and pâté de foie gras (goose liver pâté) featured prominently. While we stocked up on the first two, the last-mentioned French delicacy does not appeal to all palates once one is informed of gavage (force-feeding geese with maize, before they are sacrificed for their enlarged livers).
The other popular (though arguably overpriced) alimentary attraction is the truffe (truffle), a black fungus that grows underground in association with the roots of certain oak trees.
The empty roads made for pleasant cycling through this area of hills, river valleys and forests, and true to the area’s designation, the “Green Périgord”, we were able to cycle past impressive riverside châteaux, and along two Voies Vertes. The first of these “greenways”, along a repurposed railway route, took us from Thiviers to St-Jean-de-Côle, and another allowed us traffic-free cycling along the Vienne River into the heart of our final destination, Périgueux.
Perhaps the most engaging of the picturesque towns is Brantôme, often described in tourist guides as the “Venice of Périgord”. Beguilingly beautiful stretches of the River Dronne surround the island that constitutes the centre of Brantôme.
On the northern bank, the soft rock has been excavated over the centuries and the walls of the Abbaye St-Pierre de Brantôme, a Benedictine abbey, with its twin church spires, seemingly emerges directly from the rock.
It’s easy to imagine how the early monks lived a troglodyte existence in the Grottes de l’Abbaye de Brantôme, which served as a quarry while the exposed sections were being added on.
The prevalence of parked Harley Davidson motorbikes is witness to the town’s attractiveness as a destination and we were tempted to idle away the afternoon at riverside café-bars and brasseries.
Limousin is a mainly disused term for the area around Limoges, although it remains in use for the chestnut-red cattle dotting the fields. The term that gave the motor car its name is derived from limousine, the cape worn by herdsmen in this region.
Other terms found in France that fascinate me are those that indicate retail and service outlets, and which end in “rie”.
Folk know what to purchase at a patisserie (pastries), a charcuterie (cold meats) and an épicerie (vegetables), but I was thrilled to discover such gems relating to this rural area as coutelerie (a knife outlet), jardinerie (garden and plant centre) and carrosserie (coachworks or panel beater).
Locals are encouraged to deliver waste products to the déchetterie and even separate out and take recyclables to the recyclerie. I was able to add these to my list, now approaching 50 such terms in all.
Arrival in Limoges by train is heralded by the impressive Ga re de Limo ge sBénédict ins, with its lofty clock tower. On this, our return trip, the Office de Tourisme de Limoges found us a centrally-situated chambre d’hôte, convenient for cycle outings along the River Vienne.
The mirror-like water-lilied surfaces reflected the riverside lime and willow trees. We marvelled at how well this charmingly rural département of central France lived up to its name — the Green Périgord.