The day started wet and misty. Bob went for his usual morning walk and wound up discovering some unchartered territory in the vicinity. He’s been threatening to walk to the water tower for some time and he finally made it.
Which reminds me, I’ve not mentioned the weird water towers they have in the Dordogne. They are conical, like a cornetto, only the wide bit is at the top. I have no idea why this is a good idea but they all seem to do it.
And while I’m on the subject of water, let me tell you about the shower in this place. Pathetic doesn’t even begin to describe it. In fact, I’d go so far as to say that it’s the worse shower I’ve ever experienced. And I’ve used the Weasel camp shower!
To start with, there’s no room although the bathroom is very big. The problem is the bath placement. It has been put at one end so that the eaves are above it (our room is in the roof). This means that you can’t really stand under the water unless you’re about four feet tall. It also means that the shower screen won’t open beyond about three inches. Absolutely ridiculous.
And there’s no reason why this has to be. If they’d decided to make a bathroom instead of a room of infinite cupboards, it would have been marvellous. As it is I’m sure you could find Narnia in one of them and possibly a few other fantasy places.
Then there’s the water temperature. Scalding hot, tepid or icy seem to be the only ones…actually, there’s quite a few things about this cottage that we’re not that keen on but I’ll save that for my Trip Advisor reviews. It should be noted that Bob reckons his shower is fine.
On a brighter note…we drove over to the little hill top town of Belves today. In the rain. The central square is dominated by a huge covered hall, surrounded by some impressively ancient buildings.
We were going to visit the Troglodyte houses but missed the English tour by 15 minutes. The woman at the tourist information desk said we’d be bored on the French tour (they talk at you for about 45 minutes, she explained) and not to waste our money. So we didn’t.
Having had breakfast at a cafe, we went for a wander around the town, admiring lots of it and querying some bits.
One of my favourite views was of this roof and house. Talk about fitting something in an odd space.
Mirinda wanted to visit the patisserie but it closed just before she found it so we headed back to the car and drove to Domme for some last minute shopping. Though shopping took a back seat while we went on the Petit Train…finally.
Though not the red and yellow one above. That’s the Domme Express and the commentary is only in French. We took the normal Petit Train which has the commentary in six languages. Mind you, both trains follow the same route and hold up just as much traffic while doing so.
We always love seeing a town from the Petit Train. It’s an excellent way to get to know the layout and general history of a place prior to (or in this case, long after) wandering around at foot level. This one was no different to usual – most enjoyable.
Having filled ourselves with a bit of the pleasures of a small train without tracks, we split up – Mirinda and Bob went shopping while I visited a wonderful second hand bookshop then the Domme Museum. After a long browse in the bookshop, I found a French edition of Alice, which I bought while in the Museum I found out how people lived in Domme in times past.
Today was our last day in the Dordogne so, to mark the occasion, we decided to have dinner at L’Esplanade again. Sadly, L’Esplanade had other ideas. Returning to Domme at 9pm, there was no-one there. I don’t mean L’Esplanade was shut – it’s also a hotel so that’s not likely – but there were no diners. The tables on the terrace didn’t even have cutlery. It had all the appearance of a restaurant that has finished for the (Friday) night. Most unusual.
So we ate at the Terrace Restaurant instead. It afforded us a lovely view across the valley and the food was okay (nowhere near the L’Esplanade standard). We also had the pleasure of being entertained by Kirsty Alley…again.
This Kirsty Alley was an American woman who reminded me of Kirsty Alley the actress. But not in a good way. She was very tall with a rather odd taste in clothes. She was wearing an unflattering ‘sack-dress’ (I can think of no other way to describe it) made of what appeared to be velvet. Her make-up was applied thicker than a drag artist’s and she spoke far too loudly.
I’d noticed her the other night we dined at the Terrace Restaurant and she looked EXACTLY the same. It was as if time hadn’t changed.
Anyway, dinner over, we found the car and headed back to the cottage in time to watch Brazil beat Columbia 2-1 in their quarter final match of the World Cup. Brazil showed why they are the best football team in the world by totally dominating the game, though Columbia gave them a few scares, the result was never in doubt.
