From
The Sunday Times Travel Magazine
Looking for a hip weekend, rubbing elbows with A-listers in designer bars and
hotels?
If so, stop reading and do not come to the Dordogne. "Buzz" here
means the sound the honeybees make, and although the Dordogne (or Périgord)
has 1.5 million visitors a year, it has doggedly stayed out of anything as
frivolous as fashion. Instead, this lush rural idyll of lazy rivers,
forests, medieval villages and fairytale castles has been left uncommonly
intact, with truly unique things to view and do.
Say "Dordogne" to a Frenchman, however, and his first thought is of
his stomach. With around a million ducks and 200,000 geese, the region is
France's biggest producer of foie gras, magrets and confits de canard. You
can add to that truffles, walnuts, and wines such as sweet, golden
Monbazillac. At noon in the Dordogne church bells toll - signalling down
tools, start lunch.
An authoritative French news magazine recently called the Dordogne "L'Arcadie
des Anglais", but it just goes to show we Brits have good taste; and
unlike Provence and other expat havens, here you can drive for miles without
seeing a soul. It's best after the school-holiday crowds have vamoosed -
especially if you aim for the southeastern corner, Périgord Noir.
In autumn, the landscapes around Beynac take on a magical, elegiac stillness,
touched with reds and golds. Sarlat, Périgord Noir's capital - and foie gras
central - is an excellent base for exploring the area. It's so good, so very
good, that many visitors plan their return before they even leave,
understanding what Henry Miller meant when he wrote: "France will
someday exist no more, but the Dordogne will live on just as dreams live on
and nourish the souls of men".
£45 BUYS: A kilo of top-quality whole foie gras. Buy it layered,
millefeuille-style, with "black diamonds" (truffles), and the
price leaps to £160.
KEY FACT: For 300 years the Dordogne was even more English than it is
today. Part of Eleanor of Aquitaine's dowry when she wed Henry II in 1152,
it only returned to France in 1453.
NUT FOR SALE: "Nothing is lost of the walnut except for the sound
of its shell being cracked." Besides the obvious uses, the leaves are
macerated to make vin de noix, and the shells are ground up to be sold as
cat litter.
WHERE TO STAY
NO EXPENSE SPARED
Manoir d'Hautegente, in Coly
(00 33 553 516803). Swathed in ivy, stuffed with family heirlooms, and set
on a river in a leafy park, this tranquil 13th-century estate is the place
for a bucolic country weekend straight out of a Renoir film. In warm weather
dine on the terrace by the river; in autumn get cosy by the drawing room
fire. There's a heated pool, too. Doubles from £124, half board.
Roland mazère is retired. There is no more a restaurant in this hotel!
Marjolijn Geesink, Leiden, Netherlands