rocks. caves. bread.

After leaving Brittany we headed inland to escape the winter vacation crowds. All of the little roads snaking into wine country were positively dreamy-dotted with ruins of castles and charming towns consisting of little more than a boulangerie.

We found ourselves in Brantome, which ended up being my favourite little town away from the coast. In the middle of nowhere, with no expectations, we came across this medieval village which had in it the oldest belfry in all of France. FROM THE ELEVENTH CENTURY. This is a perfect example of why I love being in a constant state of being lost on the road.

Charm. Charm. Charm. Old. Old. Old.

Next was Eyzries-de-Tayac, where we went to the National Prehistoric Museum. Here, we discovered talking points for Henley that will last us a year, at least. We have tried our hand, rather successfully I must say, at creating prehistoric tools, instruments, and wind chimes. The region is a World Heritage site and there were many caves to discover (get irretrievably lost in). They were fond of pulling inspiration from the landscape in the construction of their homes, or, just building into the landscape itself.

Next up was Rocamadour. Words escape me here:





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