A Long Dordogne Weekend

The first weekend in June, I took a much-needed break. Our home renovations, which lasted 14 months altogether, were finally finished. For a few months, I’d been looking for a suitable writers’ retreat, or a creative retreat – ones that didn’t have yoga as part of the course (I won’t go into my reasons; let’s just say I wouldn’t be able to relax in that kind of atmosphere). I’d finally found one – and it would be at a place in the Dordogne (one of the “departments”, or regions, of France) I already knew from the YouTube channel Manor & Maker. After I’d booked the course, which would have been a creative weekend around the theme of fairy tales, it unfortunately had to be cancelled. But as I’d paid for the course and flights, I decided to go anyway.

The “weekend” started off on Thursday, with the worst travelling day I’ve experienced in years: In France, workers will strike at the drop of a hat; I think they still haven’t figured out that the French Resistance and the habit of inconveniencing everyone just because they can is passé. But the Bordeaux taxis were on strike Thursday and Friday – which meant that the roads in and out of the Bordeaux airport were blocked (the police were even helping the strikers). Therefore, the airport shuttle across the city to Gare Saint-Jean (train station) was thrown off its scheduled routes. I waited in vain for the shuttle to arrive at its alternative location, and, through a succession of helpful advice (more or less – not everyone was informed about the strike and changed traffic routes as a result), what should have taken 30 minutes ended up taking 3 hours (carrying luggage). I finally arrived, then bought a train ticket (the last train of the day possible), then waited. And waited. Other trains leaving after mine popped up on the board, but not the train for Limoges (my stop would be Thiviers).

In the ticket office, the woman in charge (who spoke little English when she chose and had fobbed me off to someone more capable) had belligerence and a little-god/diva complex down to a fine art. (As the saying goes, be careful how you treat me or you’ll end up in one of my novels…) As the train’s track information didn’t pop up and still didn’t show up, I braced myself and got back into the queue to ask about it. Fortunately for me, the older French couple in the queue in front of me asked about the train for Limoges; I could follow enough of the French and body language to know what happened next: The diva answered curtly with a generous portion of rudeness added – and promptly had her head scrubbed, bitten off and handed to her on a silver platter – to the applause of everyone who’d had to deal with her already. The husband of the couple was ready to rip her hair out for speaking to him the way she had, until another ticket woman stepped in between them and tried to diffuse the situation – apparently, she had practice at it. This second woman then came out with the growing crowd of waiting passengers to see what the problem was at the information board; after several minutes on the headset with the control room (I assume), it finally popped up. Naturally, it was the farthest train track, and we had only 5 minutes to reach it! The couple took me under their wing, and we made it to our seats just before the doors closed. I finally arrived at my destination, Thiviers, around 9 p.m.

I was met there by Stephen, the Chatelain of Chateau de Saint-Germain-des-prés, and driven back to their home. What followed was a lovely, long weekend; only one other B&B couple were there, but rarely seen. I had time to unwind, work on my next novel, and spend time with Stephen and Sara (the Chatelaine) and Sara’s mother, Dee. Sara is a costume seamstress, and she was working on a Regency coat for Steve for an upcoming BBC segment at the chateau of their friends. Dee and I helped piece the pattern together, and the billiard table in their grand salon became the sewing table for the project.

Here are a few pictures from the weekend, which included a modern art exhibition at another local chateau, as well as an outdoor artisan pottery fair. Barring strikes, I’d love to go again sometime!