Day 95 Bazas to Bordeaux - Sid and Doris Bonkers and their Epic Journeys

In which Sid and Doris visit Chateau Roquetaillade on their way to Bordeaux, a very fine city.

Musing on whether we were still being Epic enough we felt that we were not doing and seeing the things, and in danger of turning this into a Delivery Ride. So we set out for Bordeaux (which is not short of Things) by way of Le Nizan with pretty church (cue Chris de Burgh “In a Country Churchyard” followed by “Country Roads” as we went through this fabulous and cool deciduous wood).

Thence to Roquetaillade. Aquitaine was ruled by the English when in 1306 Edward 1 gave Cardinal de la Mothe permission to build a castle. It was built in the English style with towers at each corner of a square site with two towers at the gate. Like Beaumaris. As a fort it had arrow slits and no windows. It would be like living in a blockhouse, and in fact it was really only intended for use during sieges, with a couple of handy houses kept next door for everyday use. Later occupants put in some windows.

In the mid 19th century the family (who had retained it through the Revolution) asked Violet le Duc (known to we afficionados as VLD) to create a country house in the style le Duc had been championing in his other restorations on behalf of Napoleon III and the French state. It was VLD who worked on the repair of Revolutionary harm to Notre Dame Cathedral and who advised on the restoration of Carcasonne (a fave visit of S&D).

The gates opened at 10.30; we had expected to vim around in an hour and be on our way. But no, the tour starts at 11.00 and ends about 12.15, and the guide unlocks the rooms (with a fabulous set of chatelaine keys) as you go round. One of the daughters of the house took the tour while we had crib sheets in English. No photos were allowed in the house but we cheated a bit and took a #virtualsouvenir of a couple of postcards. Think William Morris a few years earlier and a bit more decorated. The monkey eating an apple shows that the apprentice masons felt the rations and pay on the site were OK.

So a good bit of the day has gone, we have not sat down since breakfast and we have all do to.

Mr Bat is still thinking about bottoms (see separate post) but S&D are thinking about tummies [I think you will find it is called Tactial Fuelling – D.] and have a couple of picnic stops. One is by the Church of St Louis. There is a war memorial and the statue is Joan of Arc. A poor choice in my view as Joan fought against the English while from 1914 to 1918 Britain spent half as much again as the French defending France. Probably a bit late to make a fuss now; maybe they had a spare Joan?

Sid had hoped to get to the 19th century gallery of the Musee d’Aquitaine but we are running too late. Instead we were delighted to find ourselves outside Pessac Automobiles with some splendid mid-late 20th century exhibits. We have not seen a plane on a stick for weeks. The French car park is nearly as dull as the Skoda dominated Czech roads; every one of the top ten models sold in France is from a French manufacturer. So out in the street are a nice old Simca, a Renault 8 police car and what might be a chopped Bel Air (can you help identify the yellow one?).

Inside the showroom are some other goodies including a definite contender for the Bouchon de Tourves. Alas, this is the closest we could get to them because in the habit of so many French businesses, they were closed while being OPEN.

Bordeaux, once you have ground your way through the suburbs and inner grunge, is a very handsome city build in local light-coloured stone and seemingly over about 50 years in the late 18th century. The buildings along the Gironde are extremely uniform like Bath but go on for miles, and being both low and very long are impossible to capture in a photograph. We rush around a few of the big sites and squares. The centre is teeming with people.

Despite the ready availability of wine bars we have Newcastle Brown and Mexican dinner, which made a change. Two non-local cuisines in three days, and a slight sense of dislocation from some of the shops too. And also a feeling that some of these roads have had their names changed in the past.

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