Castles and creme brulee - The Australian

Chateau Beynac, perched high above the Dordogne River, is one of many beautiful medieval castles in Perigord Noir. Picture: Jennifer Hewitt Source: The Australian

IN the soft afternoon sunlight, we drive slowly along the small, winding road that meanders alongside the Vezere River in France. On our right, at the edge of the golden cornfields, poplars and willow trees hide the water; on our left loom limestone cliffs, dotted with shallow caves first used for shelter by prehistoric man.

Unexpectedly, a large sign points to Maison Forte de Reignac, privately owned, only recently opened to the public and little written about in guidebooks.

We look towards the high cliff to see an elongated three-storey stone building nestled into the escarpment. Is it, we wonder lazily, worth the rather steep climb up? Only two or three cars are in the adjoining car park in an empty field. Fortunately, our curiosity overwhelms our dreams of the cheese and wine beckoning from the next town.

Maison Forte turns out to be an extraordinary fortress built into the rock, with large vaulted rooms created about 700 years ago. The exterior is deceptively modest but must have been formidable in warding off threats during centuries of nearly constant wars, particularly between those aggressive English and the French.

Start of sidebar. Skip to end of sidebar.

End of sidebar. Return to start of sidebar.

The interior and furnishings are beautifully preserved. The kitchen has ancient pots and plates on the rock walls and chests of drawers.

The grand salon features a huge fireplace whose chimney is a fissure in the rock face. Upstairs are spacious bedrooms, a dark prison cell, a chapel and a torture room for the discerning despot.

But even these are not as fascinating as the sloping area that extends back into the original cave on the ground floor. This has a display of artefacts and bones dating back to the first inhabitants of this well-protected vantage point about 20,000 years ago. As time progressed, so eventually did the sophistication of the dwelling.

There are no taped headset recordings or tour guides to inform us of all this. Instead, a smiling woman at the entrance gives us a few sheets of paper written in English, and her very best wishes in French.

The views across the valley are postcard perfect, with nothing beyond an occasional vehicle to suggest which century we are in. I search the landscape for marauders old and new. Nothing but tranquility these days, it seems.

Welcome to the quiet marvels of the Perigord Noir region of France, about four hours' drive east of Bordeaux. It is basically the area around the junction of the Vezere and Dordogne rivers, with the villages all within easy reach of one another along backroads, dotted with old farmhouses, stone walls and countless picturesque pastoral scenes.

It's called Perigord Noir, or black, because of the numerous oak trees with their dark-green leaves colouring the hills and valleys. When we picked it as the area for a 10-day driving holiday, we knew little beyond the fact that the countryside was supposed to be spectacular and the small villages interesting and relatively untouched by modern development. We set off armed with a large map and a small amount of extremely rusty French.

We had expected the steady diet of duck, truffles and foie gras. We had not expected what becomes the most memorable pleasure of all: the medieval castles, some of them partial ruins, others carefully restored, every one a delight, a treasure trove of ill-remembered history.

And forget all that old criticism of the French as arrogant or unfriendly. The country, certainly outside Paris, seems to have adopted a be-kind-to-travellers culture over the past few decades.

Of course, it may help that there are so few of us around, certainly in early October, when the weather is still warm but the crowds are long gone.

Because it is past peak season, we don't bother to book accommodation; the plan is to turn up in a town by late afternoon and ask locals or the tourism office for suggestions for two or three-star hotels or B&Bs. This works out better than we could have hoped. It is wandering and wondering made easy.

For example, about 10 minutes down the road from Maison Forte is one of the most famous towns of the area, Les Eyzies de Tayzac, which promotes itself as the capital of pre-history and the home of Cro-Magnon man. It is basically a one-street village set between more steep cliffs and the river. There we happen upon Le Moulin de la Beune, which is set under the bridge and main road at the old windmill. A sizeable double room with bath is the equivalent of about $120 a night.

The windows look over the stream and garden; at night there is a fire in the small lobby. The windmill restaurant next door is rich in taste rather than price. I doubt I will again be given a creme brulee of foie gras as a complimentary appetiser. No wonder we stay two nights.

From Les Eyzies, it's an easy 30-minute drive to the village of Beynac, where a guidebook consulted over breakfast tells us we can take a boat trip on the Dordogne River and see castles from the water. It seems perfect for a sunny day. Why not?

Beynac and the open boat ride on a glassy river are indeed as beautiful as promised. But what is truly magnificent is the Chateau Beynac, dominating the cliff, with a view over the valley so that the inhabitants could see their enemies approaching. Of those there were plenty. The castle was taken by Richard the Lionheart in 1189 with the French and the English vying for ownership until the end of the Hundred Years War in 1453. No wonder the French and the English still have difficulty liking one another.

I resolve to read the biography of Eleanor of Aquitaine, who started the trouble by bringing southwest France as her dowry when she married Henry Plantagenet, who became Henry II.

But for now it is enough to live history by walking through the cavernous state hall where the nobles of four baronies of the Perigord used to meet. We respectfully inspect the 13th-century latrines. In the basement kitchen, the tables have spaces for swords to be kept, presumably to prevent nasty accidents over dinner. The drawbridge is now permanently down but from the 12th-century walls it's possible to stare at neighbouring castles, each on its own clifftop, once fierce military rivals of Chateau Beynac.

These days, they are merely worthy rivals for tourist attention. We venture a few kilometres to Chateau de Castelnaud, which has been wonderfully restored as a museum of war from the Middle Ages, showing the evolution of weapons in siege warfare. The primitive canons, wooden battering vehicles and stone weapons are elaborately displayed with explanations of tactics, along with the latest developments in knightly armour and chain mail. Even non-military minds such as ours have to admire their brutal ingenuity.

Across the river we see a chateau of a completely different character, although with an equally bloody history. It's the hanging gardens of the Chateau de Marqueyssac that are today's main attraction. The tended garden paths wind through a miraculous tiny forest of perfectly sculptured boxwoods, a form of topiary art, watched over by strutting peacocks. The countryside falls away beneath us.

We are too late in the season for the candlelit nights at Marqueyssac but in my imagination I see myself strolling the paths in my silk evening gown in a long past century . . . Sorry, where was I? Perigord Noir does bring on that sort of dreamy quality, even without the wine. Try it and you'll see.

France Guide, Moulin de la Beune, Beynac-en-Perigord, Castelnaud, Marqueyssac

via news.google.com

Posted via web from FRANCE facts about