26 April

Today I awoke early (most likely because it was warm, something which remained true during the day). However I resisted the temptation to rise early (mostly because there wasn’t much I could do) and eventually arose in time to be ready for breakfast at 8. I took the laptop as well as the vegemite down. Over breakfast I showed everyone (other guests and hostess) some photos of the Great Ocean Road, the Nullarbor and the Centre and North. I even got mine hostess to try vegemite, but it was not well received.
After breakfast I finished preparing and headed off just before 9. I had decided to visit the two Neanderthal sites today, the Roque Saint-Christophe and Les Grottes du Roc de Cazelle. On the way I saw a motorcycle policeman who had pulled a van up to book the driver – half-way around a roundabout!
I arrived at the first about 11. The girl on the counter said it would take about forty-five minutes to walk through and it actually took me an hour. I didn’t go with the guided tour as, in quickly spoken French, I wouldn’t have understood sufficient to warrant it.
The area is actually about one kilometre long with five rock shelves. Only a few hundred metres at two levels are open to the public, but they give a good overview of the area during its habitation from over forty thousand years ago to 1588, when it was destroyed on the orders of the Roman Catholic king of France, Henry III.
The area was naturally cut off from the valley and the hollowed areas were used for habitation and storage, with improvements being done by all different inhabitants, though the majority was done after 976 when Bishop Frotaire of Perigueux decided to build a fortress there. In the sixteenth century protestants occupied the town and fortress, which is why the king ordered it destroyed.
The area had living spaces, religious spaces, areas for stock storage and slaughter, a quarry and mechanisms to defend it from the river and to accept supplies from the river. The current road has moved the river from the base of the caves.
They are the largest natural sheltered spaces in Europe and have been continuously occupied longer than any other areas in the world. Seeing them and how easy it would have been to defend them against natural and human predators, at least until the time of ballistic projectiles, explains why.
After that, I went off to the caves of the Cazelle rock. Here, as well as the actual spaces, recreations of the inhabitants and aspects of their lives makes it easy to see how they survived and thrived around here. Living in the caves only ceased in 1966, but families still live in caves in France (in the Loire Valley, for example) as they do in other parts of the world, such as Coober Pedy, where the miners make the caves.
I spoke to the girl on the desk, telling her that and asking if she would look it up (she spoke very good English, again in response to my poor French). She had a Mac computer on in the background, so I knew it would be easy.
After that I headed towards the coast. I intended to look at Bordeaux, but by 4 I was at Bergerac (the town, not the character from the TV series about a policeman on the Channel Islands called Bergerac and played by John Nettles, of Midsomer Murders fame). Just before here, on the outskirts of a little town, I saw my first French police with radar guns pulling up motorists. Needless to say, they were doing a roaring trade! I called in to upload my pictures and blog (with no trouble, I might add), but when ordering at McDonald’s my poor accent got the girl on the counter and she could barely stop giggling. I couldn’t work out why sometime she had glasses on and other times not until I realised they were sisters (she confirmed that). I checked my emails and deleted all my junk mail (which seems to come through very slowly on one account), sent out my bulk email and one or two individual ones, then left. I headed towards the coast, but it was now much later and much warmer, so I was feeling drowsy. I headed back towards my lodgings, choosing to avoid main roads. I got to see very large vineyards, more large grain fields and, in one small town, three supermarkets. There is a wide variety here, which I will list one day before I leave, as I am jotting them down in the car. I am amazed at the number and size of the rivers – they are literally everywhere and are large in width (and I assume flow). A consequence is the crops, which are extremely lush and green, an eye-opener for someone from dry Australia.
I arrived back and cleaned my boots, finding to my shock and horror that I have worn through the sole of one and nearly through the sole of the other. This means I will only wear them on the plane now, as they are too heavy to carry in my luggage (but I must get them resoled immediately I arrive back home).
Now a little about my little Renault Clio. With five doors (including a hatch), a five-speed manual transmission (but no baulk or block on reverse), airconditioning and a reasonable sound system (but no direct input, so I have to listen to the iPod through the Griffin transmitter) and a 1.5 L turbo-charged diesel engine, it has now done nearly 5500 kilometres.
The seats are comfortable, but still only two-hour seats (in other words, at the end of two hours, the seats start becoming less comfortable). They are thicker than the Barina seats (that’s why they are more comfortable), but that also means less space inside despite a bigger body outside than the Barina. It has cruise control, which kicks off when either the brake or the clutch is used. The cruise is really good on divided roads or autoroutes, but useless on all other roads as winding roads (often very narrow), steep hills (both up and down) and town speed limits every few kilometres make constant cruising impossible. The cruise switch is hidden by the steering wheel and cannot be seen for operation (I have to peer around the wheel), yet the operational controls are plainly visible on the wheel hub. The car has good acceleration, very good once over 2000 revolutions, excellent over 3000 revolutions but then it really uses fuel. With gentle driving and no driving over 90 km/hr, the car has managed to now get at least 4.4 litres per hundred kilometres (nearly 64 miles to the gallon, for those who know real consumption), giving a tank range of over 1500 kilometres. Although the tank is quoted at 55 litres, I would estimate it at about 62 water litres (i.e. real capacity when filled). It is costing me about A$90 to travel 1000 kilometres, less than it would cost me in Australia in my Commodore or about the same as the Barina.
The sound system is good, but the controls on the dash are too fiddly to use while driving. The column controls are totally hidden by the steering wheel and are relatively complex, so only the volume and mute controls (on paddles) are easily usable. Having an external aerial means signals are received for longer than when aerials are built into the screens (it is higher, and can be better designed for gain).
It does not have a power socket (that I can find), only a cigarette socket, which means when the ignition goes off, so does the power.
It does not beep at me when I leave the key in (but of course I have to take it out to remotely lock the car) nor does it require me to do things in a preset sequence. It does not lock me in when I drive off, but I can choose to lock myself in. Chevrolet designers, TAKE NOTE!
The dash computer display is in the binnacle (good), but is red LEDs (bad), too small (bad) and the figures do not differentiate clearly between 0, 6 and 8. The French wording I accept, as it is a French car, bought and registered in France. However, being able to change languages would be good (there may be a way of doing this, but as the operator’s manual didn’t even obviously show where the cruise control switch was, I don’t hold out too much hope of finding it).
The turn indicators and wipers are on the correct side, but the wipers are not intuitive to use. The stalks are too short and at the wrong angles. The direction stalk is too busy, with headlights, driving lights and foglights all on the stalk. Fortunately it does have complete manual control.
Its storage capacity is about average for the size of vehicle. Handling is not as good as I would have believed, given Renault’s experience with small vehicles, but that may be a function of the type of front suspension (McPherson struts are great for compactness and cost-effective, but cannot match the handling of upper and lower wishbones properly set up) and the tyres (Continental cannot match Michelins or Pirellis for small cars). I haven’t seen the spare, but I believe it is a space-saver. This may be okay for Europe, with towns only a few kilometres apart, but for Australia where it can be well over 1200 kilometres to get the correct tyre, it is unsafe! Also, you have to put the tyre from the car in there, so the well has to be full-size anyway.
The mirrors are a real disappointment. The passenger’s side is convex, and the driver’s side is convex with two different profiles – both are only good as digital mirrors (is there something there, or not) and require a head-turn and a centre mirror view to estimate position and distance. They are useless for parking and I have to wind the window down or get out and look. This seems to be common as I see many other late-model car drivers parking by ear (but not older cars).
The key has to be turned back to “lock” to restart the engine. This seems to be common to many European makes and can be a hazard if the engine stalls in traffic. The excellent torque of the diesel means it rarely stalls on hill starts, even at idle, unlike petrol engines which need to be revved.
Being a current-model diesel, there are no glow plugs and therefore no wait time for an initial start.
It is an excellent advertisement for diesel power and makes me wonder why Holden do not offer a 3 litre turbo-charged diesel in Commodores. With a six or seven speed automatic, there is no reason why figures of 10 litres per hundred kilometres around town and 6 or less litres per hundred kilometres in the country are not possible.
It is a well-built car with some engineering design flaws.
Would I buy a Renault Clio at home? Not now, as I don’t need a “shopping trolley” any more. Also, it would have to be on sale at about A$18 000 as a three door manual, with air conditioning and stereo with CD, mp3 player and direct input to be viable for me. It certainly is not a long-distance cruiser, although it’s going to have some practice going down to the south of Spain, then to the south of Italy and then across Germany.

After all that, I tidied up both the hard drive on the laptop and the spare that I am carrying as I had run out of room. Now I’m right for room, but have to back up files and send them off to Australia.

Now, finally, to sleep.