Just another day canoeing to castle. . .

Yesterday we canoed down the Dordogne. You should know that between John and I we have a combined canoe experience of about half a day. The kids- zero. That’s OK because it turns out that the canoe is a patient and gentle transport, always steady when the kids get restless, easy for last minute maneuvering away from bridges, not getting holes when scraped along shallow rocky bottoms too close to the shore. We now know that we love the canoe!

We also love the Dordogne. I think we passed at least half a dozen castles, but it’s hard to say. Some are kind of hidden, or set back in the trees, some may not technically be a castle, just a really old fancy house with turrets. The trip takes about two hours without stops, but we got out at two little villages, both climbing up the side of a cliff and topped with an imposing castle. I think the best part was exploring these little towns with their twisting, narrow cobbled streets and their funny medieval houses, all kind of layered and tucked in behind each other. All of this on an impossibly steep climb. People live here, just like they have for a thousand years (minus the Nestle ice cream signs and the motorcycles), and I feel kind of bad walking around with my camera. But not too bad, I’ll post some pictures.

When we reached the top of the first village (Castlenaud) we decided to forego the castle for the next one, mostly because we were excited to burrow our way back through the old alleys and see what else we could find. What we found, besides more amazing old stuff, was that Ethan, Lex and John love to sprint down knobby cliff-like walk ways , while Maddie and I try to figure out how old the abandoned clay oven is (this is more fun than it sounds, OK?)

The second stop was very similar town wise but this time we explored the castle. Which was amazing. The last castle we checked out was Warwick in England, pretty cool, but full of reproductions, wax figures and people in matching vests with their hands folded behind their backs saying, ”Please don’t touch. Please don’t. No, we can’t have people going around touching that. Please. Thank you.” This is how I thought castles were done, and I promptly promised never to write about them again. Didn’t I? Sorry.

This castle was Beynac and, first of all, we were the only people there. Our voices echoing off the huge dining halls and our feet clomping through the endless passageways. We had total free reign, not a single vested person in sight, I couldn’t believe it. This meant Ethan could run ahead looking for doors that opened and “secret passageways”, Maddie could take her time absorbing it all and Lex could sing the whole time (yes, she does that.) All while John tried to read out loud from the guide book that the door to the left leads to a latrine and the tiny chapel has 700 year old frescoes and the heart shaped locks were put in as a tribute when Richard the Lionheart died from his gangrenous wound (a little less rough housing, perhaps, Richie)… it was pretty amazing having all that freedom.

There were actual tapestries, flags and paintings left on the walls, fading and peeling and not behind glass (which deeply disturbed Maddie.) The rooms were mostly empty except for the odd beaten chest or table and a kitchen full of 800 year old kitchen things, and because of all that it was so much more real. No gimmicks or theatrics, just the five of us exploring a massive cliff top castle. Some of the doors and stairwells were locked (which deeply disturbed Ethan), but we still spent almost two hours going from room to room before heading back down through the village and to our canoe. And, eventually, to our little mill house, exhausted.

What a day!

Angie