Day 11; Hautefort

Yesterday I enjoyed making camp stove coffee for my fellow velocipedists and though initially I had my eye on some fine dining in Brantome at the days end it was simple pasta that my stomach called for once I had pitched the tent. This three course meal takes minutes to make (about 12 minutes) and only one pot and one spoon to wash up.

Tuna and Sweetcorn salad,  Pasta in a mushroom sauce, Custard Flan.

Open tins of tuna and sweetcorn and start eating your starter. Put water on to boil and immediately add 100g of pasta and 2 portions of mushroom soup powder along with any flavour booster that comes in small sachets. Keep stiring well as it comes to the boil as it will want to stick. Cooking everything from cold water is the key. When the pasta is 3 minutes from being al dente turn the heat off to allow it to continue cooking and cool slightly. Spoon portions into the now empty sweetcorn can and eat from the can, topping up as you go so it cools while leaving the hot stuff in the pan. For the custard flan, you have slaved away long enough, so go to the boulongeri-patisserie if you haven't already been. If you are buying any herb/spice mixes to add flavour remember that you will use your pan to boil water for coffee, tea or a tisane so maybe avoid the curry side of the spectrum.

On leaving the campsite I see two cyclists up ahead and when I reach them it is the couple I met a while back; you remember the 65-mile a day ones I was to never see again. Anyway, it was good having some on-the-road company for a while. I stopped at the truffle museum which was very informative,  high quality and surprisingly interesting. They focussed on production and harvesting rather than food. I bought some truffle butter which did bring my lunchtime bread and pate to life, and the later banana, and snickers bar. Burp.

They farm truffles by planting host trees with the truffle spore; usually oak. It is quite a process to nurture the crop over a growing season and can include irrigation and provision of shade to create just the right conditions. Mushroom farmers do the same but they can control conditions in a shed. With changing weather patterns it will be a challenge in future. This is what a young truffle field looks like.

Though dogs are mainly used in the modern era pigs were popular up to the 1960s.

I saw plenty of these in the Auvergne last year; they are simple shelters and perhaps housed people guarding their valued truffle fields though this is a reconstruction. 

Other ways to find truffles include watching a particular species of fly that lay their eggs on the ground above the hidden truffles. Or, my favourite, get down on your hands and knees and start sniffing them out when the truffles are in season; you don't need a good sense of smell just your nose to the ground.

I read the book for today's ride and feel the authors have gone all Nigella Lawson (or Jilly Cooper) on me. "There is a richness and sensuality to the landscape... you want to reach out and caress them [the hills]... pushing into the many curves." In truth the language used is just about acceptable as we journey through the Perigord Vert (green) but what I cannot tolerate is the early suggestion from the book that I should "Go straight past the boulangerie ...". As if. I'll avoid the clichés and let the scenery do the talking. 

As well as truffles this is sweet chestnut abd walnut land.

Hautefort is named after the High Fort that sits proud on the main hill. Many forts were converted into Châteaux and this one is owned by a succession of Bastards. Capital "B" note.

This doesn't do the family or their name any favours does it?

My Chambres d'Hotes is 5 km beyond Hautefort at the end of a remote lane and I am an hour earlier than I said. The host is expecting me but is out so I am asked to wait outside. That was fine when it was sunny but then a chill squall came through and my hands are as numb as my brain as I write this.

Once allowed in I'm informed that the nearest restaurant is too far to cycle so they will drive me; I'm pleased I saved my meal out for today especially as I am taken to a reasonably priced basic restaurant in Saint-Agnan serving local produce including duck products supplied by my hosts. Now I see why they chose the restaurant for me. As I waited for my lift back from the restaurant I overheard two groups of British expats meeting for the first time and I was surprised that the conversation was about "not missing the UK...the local Irish pub...the local English pub...French opening hours". They seemed to want to recreate the UK they didn't miss in France when I assume they originally moved to France for France itself. Maybe its me that missing the point as they have the beauty of the Yorkshire Wolds with more of a summer. Afterall, I am here rather than the UK because I can cycle 1,000 miles on quiet roads. Linked to this, two groups of cyclists have reported on a café they visited recently in the Dordogne. The owner and all the clientele were British which is probably why the region has the nickname Dordogne-shire. 

I have been poor at describing French regions but this excerpt shows how the French view things.

I missed the coronation on the 6th of May but real news of a fake coronation did come through to me in deepest darkest Perigord, I mean the Dordogne.

Yesterday something dark had wormed its way inside me and my thoughts had turned to what might happen if we lost all hope. The Perigord fixed that with gradual ascents and fun descents. As I looked more deeply for the antidote to those glum musings of yesterday I remembered that "hope springs eternal". With Google and a little knowledge I see it was Alexander Pope who wrote that "Hope springs eternal in the human breast, Man never is, but always to be blest:". Like a water spring, hope is in near constant supply for us so provided we capture and utilise that hope we will always be able to move towards a better future. When Pope says "... to be blest" I think he is reminding us that we never reach our perfect state, it's something we always journey towards and so I journey to Nice.