Bergerac and La Roque-Gageac

We continued driving eastwarly to La Roque-Gageac and only stopped by Bergerac for lunch. After yesterday’s beautiful Saint-Émilion, Bergerac’s Vieille Ville (Old Town) was a disappointment. What I didn’t know was that we could keep on coming back to it, and by the end of our Dordogne trip, we got the illusion that we knew it by heart.

After dropping our luggage at La Plume d’Oie Auberge in La Roque-Gageac, we explored this incredible rock town. The narrow D703 splits the Dordogne river and the stripe town; both people and cars learn to share it in no time. Because the town is digged from the rocky mountain, it is shallow and doesn’t have much room to grow. We tried to go up to the troglodytic fort, which was mysteriously closed way before its official closing time. So we went to the other direction to its garden of exotic plants and verified that it indeed has quite a collection of exotic plants.

Since we weren’t interested in taking the tourist boat down the Dordogne river (we saw some people riding canoes as well), there was not much else to do in La Roque-Gageac. If I thought Saint-Émilion was small, La Roque-Gageac was minuscule. Dinner wouldn’t start in a few hours, and the weather was too nice for us to sit in our tiny rooms. David decided that we would go for a ride.

“But to where?” I asked.

“East!” he declared.