25 April - ANZAC Day

Toady I woke up feeling different. It was ANZAC day and I now had a reason to celebrate it, but in this area of France, there weren’t any Australians (as far as I know), so there weren’t any local celebrations.
I got up and went in to have breakfast. Instead of the area I thought, which has a sink, fridge, cabinets and table, we went into the dining room where the table was set for three. I sat down and only a few minutes later, two ladies came in. One, the younger, had a T-shirt with KAKADU NATIONAL PARK across it, so I immediately said, “Have you been there?” She said yes, and then I said I was Australian. She couldn’t believe it for a few minutes, but then accepted it once she saw the vegemite. She is a French teacher of History in Bordeaux, currently on holidays (each area has different holidays, which explains so many children around at odd times). She holidays with her mother and they were in Australia a few years ago (Sydney, Brisbane via the coast and Uluru and then Kakadu). They have also been to the US, but we didn’t get any further than that.
I found out they do have meat pies in France, tous en viende, I think, but I still don’t know where. Biscuits we didn’t get around to. They asked where I had been and by the time we got that out of the way, the distances I travel in Australia, and where I was going to go, breakfast was finished. I gave them my email address, also to mine hostess who was interested in the conversation but not able to follow it.
Then I finished my preparation, not to leave permanently, but only for the day. The mother and daughter had already left, so after I packed I tried to work out where to go. A place called Perigueux triggered my imagination so I headed off there. On the way I saw signs for prehistory, so I asked the SatNav what tourist attractions were there – a CroMagnon display of cave art, so I then headed off there. I arrived there not long after 11 and had a quick look around the area. Then I went to buy a ticket and my accent gave me away again and I got booked for the English tour – a good idea, even if someone else suggested it for me. While waiting I heard a family speaking in English and spoke to them. The father is (was) a Navy pilot, with Orion P3s and the mother is home-schooling the children (two girls, just and older teenager). They are in Europe for six weeks and have seen Sicily, Spain and now France before heading home to Washington D.C. We chatted about touring and where each of us had been (they have friends in Perth), then the cave tour started.
Our guide was French but spoke quite good English. He indispersed the discovery of the cave, the fate of the original and the creation of this one (which is why it is called Lascaux II) and the exposition of the paintings with humour and facts, creating a light-hearted but informative session. People on the tour had some interesting questions, but because his explanations were so good, there weren’t too many questions.
The essential points were:
- the cave was discovered by teenagers searching for a lost dog;
- the knowledge of the cave was passed onto their teacher;
- a local priest, knowledgeable in such areas, investigated it;
- after WWII the cave was opened for viewing, but the paintings started to deteriorate;
- the cave was closed and a duplicate cave created;
- the duplicate cave was opened for tourists and the original left in as close to its original state as possible.
- while the pigments for the paintings is known (clay, manganese dioxide, iron oxide) as is the method of application (fingers, pads of fur, brushes from wooden twigs and spitting, either from hollow wood or directly from mouths – but not on the ceilings, for obvious reasons) and the fact that scaffolding was used, why the paintings were done, their significance to those who did them and whether they were done over a short or extended period remains a mystery.
The tour of a replica, painstakingly copied from the original except for the floor (for safety reasons) makes sense in view of allowing people to see it but not to have the original deteriorate.
After the tour, I spoke to the family again and gave the children homework (which I will state her, but not give the answers as they may read this). I gave them a koala and kangaroo pin (one each) and asked them to find out about the stone set in it – what it is, where it comes from and a little bit about the place it comes from. I also asked the older one to try to find out which GMH (Holden) car was exported to the U.S. Then I headed off.
I called in at a McDonalds on the way to my next destination, Brive-la-Gaillarde. Here I was able to send yesterday’s photos and blog, as well as check my email (no hassles today). However the town I was in (Terrason Lavilledieu) looked so interesting that I headed back to the Tourist Bureaus (yes, there were two, one for the department and one for the town) and got some information, then went on a walking tour of part of the town. It was extremely interesting because I could get up close to things quite quickly. Also, the church, despite its age and significance, was still used for its original purpose. After seeing around (and getting a triumphant angler with his catch), I headed off. I decided to head back to where I was staying via the north and then west, to see a different aspect of the countryside. It was immediately obvious that the undulating area where I was staying (which included large wheat and corn fields) was very different from this, primarily orchard, area, which was also rolling valleys with villages clinging to the sides rather than being in the actual valley. Every time I wanted to get a photo, there was nowhere to stop and there were cars behind me. While heading towards Rochehouart, I stopped in the village of Juillac to get the only photos I could.
As I got closer to (temporary) home, I kept crossing a river called La Tardio (or similar), so anyone from school reading this can get Andrew to read today’s blog (You’ll know which Andrew). Then, in the middle of nowhere, there was this large chateau / castle. It had started out as a small fortified tower, but then been extended on in times of peace (noticeable because of large glazed windows in the newer section). Not long after that came a real large castle, but again the need not to be run over by cars, trucks, tractors and the local police and gendarmerie meant I couldn’t stop and get a picture. I may try tomorrow or I may head to Bordeaux and look around there instead.
Then I was back, so I unpacked, and started writing this up and processing the photos. I did it in the common area, but the others did not come back before I finished and the owners did not pop down at all. I’ll get some pictures up tomorrow morning and take the laptop into breakfast and see if they are interested.
But for now it’s time to kiss mum and dad, brush your teeth and off to bed (for those of you who remember Keith Smith as the Pied Piper).