On the docket for the day was Rocamadour, apparently the second-most visited site in France after Mont St-Michel (which we visited on our last trip to France). Traffic was relatively light, probably because it was Sunday, so we whizzed through increasingly winding roads, with more than a few hairpins, much to David’s delight. We kept driving up and up, and the drop offs next to the road kept increasing, until we were driving along the top of a ridge.

As it was David’s birthday, we planned to stay in town and, as he gracefully put it, “eat our faces off”. First things first, we went off in search of coffee, and we actually came across a little café that looked eerily like a few coffee shops back home (something like a Blenz).

Making our way out of town was only partially impeded by some road works that were rather obnoxiously holding up traffic. We made the fairly short drive to La Roque-Gageac, a picturesque town wedged between an imposing cliff and the Dordogne river. We stopped for a few refreshments before hopping on a gabarre (essentially a replica of an 18th century river barge) for a tour up the river.

We took some small, meandering country roads southeast, in the general direction of Perigueux. As always, the endless miles of green fields and clusters of old farmhouses made for a picturesque drive. It wasn’t long before we were entering the outskirts of Perigueux.

We planned our modest route for the day, which started off with finding the duck farm that we purchased our little can of foie gras from at the market in Tocane-St-Apre on Monday. The lady had given us a little flier with a map on it, so we thought we’d swing by to pick up some more. We opted to take a road we hadn’t yet travelled, and it turned out to be yet another picturesque road, with plentiful vistas of farmsteads and rolling hills.

Perhaps one of the most enjoyable things about being in France is the plentiful and cheap access to bread and cheese. We snacked on fresh fruit and cheese while we readied ourselves for the day. It was going to be a fairly quiet day, as we only planned on going to Brantôme (“the Venice of the Perigord”).

We awoke to the quiet of being in the middle of the countryside. We shuffled downstairs and decided on foregoing getting ready for the day and just heading out to the market to stock up on our fresh produce and meat for the evening’s meal. The area’s daily market was held in Tocane-St-Apre, just 15 minutes to the south.

We toured through the narrow, picturesque roads, northeast towards Perigueux, stopping by the side of the road occasionally to take pictures of the landscape. Perigueux was a larger town, and we wandered around looking for a parking spot nearer to the centre. We parked for free, likely because it was Sunday, and walked towards the main cathedral. It was an imposing structure, with large domed spires, that had similar leanings as Sacre Coeur in Paris (same architect).

David was simply overjoyed to be driving again, particularly in a manual little diesel car. We headed eastward towards the town of Bergerac, admiring the vineyards and rolling hills along with the gorgeous sunshine. Bergerac is situated right on the Dordogne river, and it is a darling town full of half-timbered houses and of course several statues of the infamous Cyrano de Bergerac.

We ventured out and wandered the town in search of a boulangerie, although oddly enough we couldn’t find one. We made our way down a fantastically steep ramp and back to the plaza we had dinner at the previous evening. There, we were treated to some tasty crépes for brunch. St Emilion is particularly known for its Eglise Monolithique, so we swung by the tourism office to pick up our tickets for the guided tour. As the only English option left at 2 pm, our schedule was set.

Sunglasses firmly affixed, we checked-out and headed out for a quick morning stop at Paul, the nearby boulangerie, for pain au chocolat. The sun was out in full force, unsheathed from any cloud cover, and by 11 am, we already knew it was going to be a scorcher of a day. We made our way down to the water to check out Bordeaux Fete de Vin, which lined probably a mile of the boardwalk.