Two Rainy Day Rides ... and Art

A street in Carennac

For the past two days, I've been based in Carennac, another beautiful medieval village located on the Dordogne, in the Lot departement. It is a monastery town (as opposed to bastide towns, or hamlets, or cities) which prospered around an 11th century Cluniac Abbey, with its romanesque church. Prospered because it was on the pilgrimage route to Rocamadour, and then, as now, travelers have needs (then particularly for medical care, shelter and food) and spend money. It is now a quiet village, with Renaissance houses, twisting streets, red roofs and lots of art, old and new.

Footpath between houses

Gate remaining in the wall around the church

The work of Gilles Sacksick is hung indoors and out, all around town. I wasn't previously familiar with his work, but it is accessible and enjoyable, with something very strong at its core.

This poster, a different kind of art, reminds me that French rural areas are threatened with some of the same environmental dangers that rural areas in the US face: among them the storage of nuclear waste and fracking. People I talk with here are quite concerned with protecting local agricultural and food production both against direct environmental threats and against the intrusions of factory farming and GMOs. Hopefully, the Europeans (with the French in the lead) will be able to hold off US threats in current international trade talks.

The past two days have both been rainy, so I limited my riding each day to two short excursions, each of about 25 miles. Both days I spent time waiting out downpours, today at a market in St. Céré, where I admired these mushrooms, a specific variety of chanterelles.

The first ridet took me to Rocamdour, a famous pilgrimage site for believers who come here to pay tribute to the black virgin, made famous for miracles at about the time King Henry of France (1st husband of Aliénor of Aquitaine) was miracuously cured of some serious ailment. The troubadors of her court, famous for their poetry, songs, and courtly behavior, made the black Madonna even more famous. Legends abound, and so do pilgrims.

Rocamadour, high on the cliff above the valley below.

Pilgrims, and captives, made the climb to the church on their knees,

A courtyard at the castle at Rocamadour. The building was not open to the public.

The famous, and controversial, statue of the black virgin.

My ride today, about the same distance, but east, not south, had as its goal a visit to Jean Lurçat's residence, now a museum  (the Atelier Musée Jean Lurcat)  featuring his tapestries and documenting his life. And, what a life it was ... friends with Picasso, Neruda, Gide, Cocteau, Léger, etc. He worked with Balanchine, exhibited with Matisse, Picasso, Braque, Derain and Dufy. He left Paris, travelled widely, and eventually bought (about 1941) this little castle at the top of a hill in St. Céré, from which he was an active member of the resistance and an active member of the local community. Born in 1892, as a young man he was a painter, but was involved with tapestry by 1917.  Eventually he completely abandoned painting for tapestry, drawn to its architectural and monumental qualities, wanting to avoid the precious and the petite. He simplified his work, abandoning perspective in favor of flat imagery, much of it featuring the horrors of warfare, and his passionate involvement in the world around him. I was very moved to spend the afternoon in his home, surrounded by artifacts of his life and examples of his work.

Jean Lurcat tapestry

Tapestry detail

Lurcat tapestry

Lurcat tapestry detail

History is never far away in France, my days pass partially embedded, frequently surrounded, by it. Yesterday's ride passed this plaque for two British parachutists during World War II, who parachuted into the field behind it. Lurçat was an active resistor during that war.

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Sarlat to Carennac

One of three matching window boxes in ascending windows in this tower.

I enjoyed a particularly pleasant ride yesterday. It departed Sarlat on a paved bike path, something I am not usually enthusiastic about. But this one ... a well-paved surface, only a few other bikes or pedestrians, and about 12 miles of travel with no concerns about traffic or route-finding proved an exception. It was easy, pleasant cycling, following the Dordogne upriver, though the river itself was rarely in site.

The bike path, about the same size as many roads.

Walnut orchards are still abundant, with walnuts featured on menus everywhere. This one was located next to a typical medium-sized roadway.

Full-grown walnut orchard. Across the street was a much younger orchard.

I've become accustomed enough to the sudden, raucous sqwacking of magpies not to totally jump out of my seat and wreck when they have something boisterous to say.

A magpie on the move.

Stopped at an outdoor covered market, and bought local cheese, tomatos, cukes, bread for lunch, and then found my way through Souillac without problem. My map showed Martel as the next town. And what a town it turned out to be. Beautiful. Clearly well-visited, there were cafes, bistros, and foreign voices. But not crowded, and equally good, not jammed full of tourist shops. I hadn't read anything about it, and totally enjoyed the short interlude I spent there.

The road around the church in Martel

I passed perhaps forty-five minutes while waiting for the church to open for the afternoon drinking coffee with three cyclists whose paths had been crossing mine for two days. One of them certainly knew that he knew everything that needs to be known about cycling and was more than glad to share it. Have to admit I took a certain pleasure in suggesting that the Haute Route would be perfect for him. Mean, who me?

Covered market next to the cafe where I sat in Martel

Martel is lovely, founded in the 11th century on an old Roman road near the oppidum Uxellodum, where (I read on the sign) the last battle between Caesar's army and the Gaules was fought in -51.

Its church is named St. Maur, looks to me like a fortifird church, and was founded in the 11th century. The interior of this romanesque church was as brightly painted as any I have ever seen.

Carved detail inside the church

One of the most brightly painted churches I've seen, though books tell me original colors were often quite bright..

Towards the end of the day this one-lane suspension bridge crossed the Dordogne River, not too far below the point where the Cère joins it. Notice the wooden road surface.

One-land wooden suspension bridge across the Dordogne River

And lastly, the entrance to Carennac, where I arrived last night.

A washed out photo of the entrance to Carennac

The maps are all interactive, use the arrows to scroll around. My two day rides, described in the next posts are represented by the lines to Rocamadour and St. Cère, though you may need to scroll east to see them.

View Sarlat to Carennac in a larger map

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