May 14, 2024
To Les Eyzies
A rain and train day
First, a little detour. I moved to Iowa in the late 1980s to take a job at Iowa State University, a land-grand university whose mission included Extension and Outreach. As a long-time fan of public radio, I quickly found the local NPR station and was pleasantly surprised to see how much of the local programming featured expertise and advice of University faculty. Embracing the Outreach mission in a state heavily invested in farming, there were daily agriculture market reports and an hour-long call-in show on weather featuring the University Extension Climatologist. It was there that I first heard of El Niño and learned that pork belly prices spike during late summer when tomatoes ripen and folks yearn for BLT sandwiches.
During my RAGBARI years, I rode with a team that originated in the ISU Extension Office, the Extension Cy-Riders. One year, the extension climatologist rode with our team and completely altered my understanding of rain forecasts. I had always thought that 60% chance of rain for a given area meant a 6 in 10 chance that it would rain in that area. Not true – I was told that it meant that there was a near 100% chance of rain in 60% of the area covered by the weather report. As cyclists, we always want to be in that 40% area, but it sometimes seems we are a rain magnet and get wet even when there is a 20% chance of rain.
Now, back to our ride to Les Eyzies - the forecast was 99% chance of rain. It seemed we would not avoid a soaking and so we elected to take a train to Les Eyzies. Actually two trains as there was a connection in La Buisson. It was Leah’s inaugural train ride with a bike but all went smoothly and we arrived in Les Eyzies just before noon, greeted by a steady rainfall. We briefly sought shelter outside a cheese shop where we enjoyed free samples of regional sausages while waiting for the rain to subside. I had arranged for an early check in at our lodging above a main-street restaurant and although the restaurant was closed the door was opened by a nice woman who led us to the hotel entrance located off a courtyard behind the restaurant.
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Les Eyzies is the self-described "World Capital of Prehistory." Located in the Vérèze valley in Dordogne, the town lies beneath limestone cliffs and is surrounded by prehistoric dwellings and caves. We had plans to visit one of caves the next day, but I had hoped to find information at the Tourist Information Office on other sites of interest we might visit that afternoon. However, the TI office was closed for the day so I bought a takeout sandwich and headed back to my room.
Unfortunately I’d forgotten to take my keys to open the large door to the courtyard. Worse, no one was at the restaurant to let me in, and my phone plan had expired yesterday – meaning I could not call or text my friends to come let me in. The phone did work on WiFi, so I walked up and down the street searching for a WiFi signal that was not password protected. I found a weak signal outside the TI office, so I sent a message to our WhatsApp group and ate my sandwich while waiting for a reply. I’d not heard back by the time I finished eating and rather than continue waiting in the cold drizzle I decided to go to the cheese shop down the street where we’d had a nice visit shortly after arriving in town. I resent the SOS and Leah responded right away that she was on her way down to open the gate.
The problem with my phone was due to the fact that I was once again unable top-up my Orange Travel plan with more data, a problem that had occurred a month ago in Spain. I spent most of the afternoon on the phone with Orange trying to solve the problem, an annoying situation that was exacerbated by the fact I had to use my US phone to make the call, which racked up quite the bill. And to put a cherry on the afternoon, the help desk could find no solution to my problem. I adopted my best Scarlet O’Hara attitude and put off worrying about the phone until another day. Instead, I worked on the journal and awaied what promised to be an excellent dinner.
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La Maison, the restaurant below our lodging, had been highly recommended by the cheese shop we stopped at earlier in the day. We booked for 7:30 and were the second table seated in what proved to be a very eclectic space decorated with a bit whimsy. The remaining indoor tables were quickly filled, mostly with walk-in customers, and the two staff scurried back and forth seating the guests, distributing and translating menus, and pouring wine. While waiting for our first course, Leah commented that the man in a vintage portrait mounted on the wall looked remarkably similar to our waiter – both having a prominent nose and strong jaw. As we glanced around, we noted several other vintage portraits with the same man posing in a variety of what would best be described as costumes. A large lamp that resembled a hat with an oversized brim hung from the ceiling, while beams were decorated with Pac-Man figures and upside-down tea sets. In fact, the entire restaurant seemed a bit like an antique shop – something that spoke directly to Leah’s heart.
Over the course of the evening, we not only confirmed that the man in the portraits was our server but we enjoyed a fabulous meal that highlighted regional fare – duck confit and foie gras ravioli, for example. We laughed at the weather forecast and toasted our good fortune at being together on the road, and that tomorrow is another day.
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Today's ride: 2 miles (3 km)
Total: 937 miles (1,508 km)
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