We were up early the next morning because we had to buy a car.
I read about this program, run by Auto France, where you can buy, then sell back a brand new car. It includes unlimited mileage, all insurance with zero deductible, and a 24 hour emergency assistance program. There is one catch: it only works if you are going to need a car for 17 days or more (up to six months). So we hopped the metro to the Orly Airport, and picked up a brand new black Peugeot.
In retrospect, I would do this all over again, and when we return to France, we will use Auto France. The entire transaction was hassle free, as advertised, and cost less in the long run than a standard car rental.
Our car was even hit when we were on the coast in Villafranche, and except for the struggle to make a police report (the French-English barrier was pretty tough) nothing at all happened and it was taken care of by the insurance.
We were picking up the car at the airport, which got us out of the main city, to avoid traffic. This was my first experience driving in Europe, and a really quick learning curve. Even with a good Michelin Map, we got turned around and headed into the heart of Paris, but soon realized our mistake. The international traffic signs are pretty easy to understand, with the one exception that you have to learn which is the “no parking one side” and “no parking both sides” sign.
The hardest part was being able to take in the directional signs; you know, the ones that tell you how many kilometers to such and so. We had to pay attention, because we were going to Beynac-et-Cazenac, and there is at least one other Beynac in France. Our destination was in the Dordogne Region, right on the Dordogne River.
Well, it was easy enough to take the A20 south. The biggest city in the area seemed to be Periguex or Brive la Gaillarde, and after that the signs just kind of pointed here and there. So once we were off the main highway, we spent a lot of time kind of wandering in a general southern direction. We’d go around the roundabouts two or three times, so we could read the town names and decide which way to go.
Eventually we made it to Beynac, a small town topped by a castle in the middle of a valley of small, castle-topped towns.
We parked in a lot at the base of the village, walked across the street to our little hotel on the river, and dropped our bags. It felt so good to get out and walk along the river, then up the silent, cobbled streets leading to the castle, pausing to look out over the fading light in the valley.
We ate at the hotel restaurant that night. I had my first ever taste of foie gras, and it was wonderful. They just had a kind of appetizer table set up, and you could go help yourself while waiting for the meal. There were slices of foie gras, and I wasn’t even sure that’s what it was at first. Our waiter smiled and nodded, and smiled again when he saw me take my first bite. It was buttery smooth and so full of flavor, served plain of good bread. Dinner was roast chicken, with a truffle sauce and one lone mushroom on top. It tasted like I had never really had chicken before. Gail’s salad was the first of many amazing salads she had this trip, and after another walk through the streets we slept really well in the peaceful night.
I was up in time to climb the cliff and see the sunrise on the castle, to hear the first bells toll as a single hot air balloon rose through the river-fog in the valley bottom.
Beynac-et-Cazenac, on the Dordogne, was a magical, delicious, and mysterious first stop on our way through France.