October 24, 2022
To Capdenac-Gare
The fog comes
on little cat feet
It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on
- Carl Sandburg
I woke to a thick fog that had settled in over the valley and so dawdled a bit after breakfast hoping that visibility would improve. By 10:30, I could see the roofs of the village houses below and decided it was time to move on. Sandra saw me out, and after photos and a warm farewell I made my way down the hill, across the Truyère River, and continued my journey down the Lot River. As Sandburg poetically predicted, the fog eventually moved on, revealing a clear blue sky and sunshine.
| Heart | 7 | Comment | 0 | Link |
| Heart | 9 | Comment | 0 | Link |
| Heart | 8 | Comment | 0 | Link |
| Heart | 4 | Comment | 0 | Link |
It was very pleasant cycling along the river, whose calm water beautifully reflected the sky, clouds, and riverbank flora. I passed through the town of Vieillevie, stopping to take some photos when I came across a cadre of young cats gathered on the streets of the small village – a few were clearly toying some poor insect, while others were more interested in grooming or sunning themselves. Most paid me little mind, except for one who engaged me in a pretty intense stare-down, sensing somehow that I was a dog person.
I was so enjoying the cycling that I seriously considered taking a detour to Conques to visit the Abbaye Sainte-Foy de Conques. Considered a “masterpiece of Romanesque art,” it is an important pilgrimage stop and in 1840 was classified as an Historic Monument. I weighed the pros and cons of a detour during my picnic lunch, and in the end decided I would not have time for more than a rushed visit. Conques deserves much more, so add Conques and the Abbaye Sainte-Foy to the list of reasons for returning to the Lot Valley.
| Heart | 4 | Comment | 1 | Link |
| Heart | 3 | Comment | 1 | Link |
2 years ago
About ten miles beyond the turnoff to Conques I came to another road not taken – one that would have led me north toward Souillac. I had reached a decision last night regarding the last few days of this tour. I needed to catch a train to Paris before the end of the week, and the best (i.e. direct) option was an Intercities train that I could take from either Souillac or Cahors. My preference was to leave the Lot Valley today and make my way north to Souillac, but the limitation was availability of food and lodging. There were several remote Gites and B&Bs available on the way to Souillac; however, this late in the season it was difficult to find lodging where there was restaurant within reasonable walking distance. Better options were available if I continued down the Lot River to Cahors. Though some sections of the route would be a repeat of earlier rides, the Lot Valley is wonderful cycling so I booked a room at a Logis hotel/restaurant just outside Capdenac Gare.
| Heart | 5 | Comment | 2 | Link |
It's somehow disappointing to see that sort of craft rather than a wooden rowboat: much less picturesque and romantic.
2 years ago
| Heart | 3 | Comment | 0 | Link |
Soon after passing through Livinhac-le-Haut my lazy ride along the river came to an abrupt halt on D840, one of the larger, highly trafficked departmental roads. Everyone was respectful, but it was an eight mile stretch where I stayed in the moment and pedaled hard. I finally relaxed a bit when I crossed the river at Capdenac Gare, skirted the town and followed the river to my hotel.
The stay and dinner were unremarkable, expect my brief foray into a dish a little too French for me: Ris d’agneau with mushroom sauce. I had first sampled ris d’agneau (aka lamb sweetbreads, aka thymus gland) last May when out to lunch with my friends Christine and Christian, who had ordered grilled ris d’agneau. I found them tasty, and learning that they were always grilled thought that sometime I might be brave enough to order them for myself. And this was that time. I admit to being swayed the mushroom sauce, still remembering the mushroom soup I had in Avalon a few weeks back. When the dish came, the sweetbreads were not grilled, but rather were pale chunks swimming in a thick, rather bland mushroom sauce. I’m not sure if/how they were cooked. I took a few bites but resigned, acknowledging that some foods are just too offal for me to eat. Sorry :)
Today's ride: 38 miles (61 km)
Total: 3,468 miles (5,581 km)
| Rate this entry's writing | Heart | 11 |
| Comment on this entry | Comment | 6 |
At least the pun was organic to the storyline.
2 years ago