Flow Vélo 13 : Exodus

La Flow Vélo from Thiviers to Excideuil

The idea of cycling 220 km from Thiviers to Sarlat and back over five days had seemed feasible. But with only 2 days of our long weekend left – thanks to our stop at Rénamont guinguette – we decided to be reasonable and just do a part of the route.

We’d start with a gentle 20 km stretch between Thiviers and Excideuil on Saturday. And then we’d do the 100 km return trip from Excideuil to Le Lardin on Sunday. After our last disappointment on the Flow Vélo a few weeks ago, we hoped the route would be flood-free.

Our starting point was the simple campsite in the market town of Excideuil.

From the moment I uttered the town name, my husband started ‘singing’ the Bob Marley song Exodus, a tune that would accompany us throughout the day.

The name was strangely fitting for the quaint little town, which seemed to be fighting a population exodus. Perhaps people have been driven away by the tune of the church bells (what is that song?). Or maybe it’s simply quiet out of season.

We were disappointed not to find a restaurant open when we arrived on Friday evening – though there’s a bicycle shop and a bookstore.

Even the central hotel-restaurant-bar Le Fin Chapon closed at 7pm, serving meals only for private functions.

But the château, growing out of a rocky cliff, made up for the culinary disappointment. It was beautiful in the golden hour sunshine. We examined the rock-climbing routes (closed), thinking about our dusty climbing boots at home, and speculated over tunnel networks leading into the castle from the caves.

After a hot shower, a pizza and a night of nightingale song, we set off on our bikes from the campsite on Saturday morning.

There were no specific ‘Flow Vélo’ signs, just the standard green cycleway ones.

I knew that there were other cycle routes in the area, so we decided to check which way to go by asking at the tourist office.

There, we were told that following a landslide in February, one of the streets on the Flow Vélo was closed. The tourist assistant highlighted an alternative route on the town map she gave us (not the crossed out highlighted part) and we were able to confirm that the standard green signs indeed referred to the Flow Vélo.

Exodus Excideuil might not fulfil restaurant needs but there’s a charcuterie and boulangerie, so we bought food for our second breakfast, early lunch, late lunch and tea (yes, we’re a bit like hobbits in that respect) before setting off at 11am.

Knowing the route was entirely on roads, I had limited expectations as to its beauty. Silly me. This is the Dordogne! In Spring. And the route took us along tiny roads where there was very little traffic.

We cycled up and down the hilly terrain, enjoying the scent of grass seed and acacia blossom and the sight of wildflower prairies and woodland stretching into the distance. On the downhills I was careful not to slide on the loose gravel, and on the uphills I stopped to take photos (any excuse for a rest).

The steepest hill was named Rue de l’Abime (Abyss Street): had we been carrying tents etc., we’d have had to walk here. The name is more apt going from Thiviers to Excideuil, because of the way you plunge into a hamlet at the bottom of the valley.

As we progressed, listening to cuckoos, cicadas and enjoying moments of deep silence, I realised that we weren’t going to be bothered by floods here. It’s the only stretch of the Flow Vélo, so far, that would merit an electric bike.

I fell under the charm of Corgnac-sur-L’Isle, where we stopped for our first lunch and a hammock siesta after 16 km. Set on the River L’Isle, it’s pretty, has a couple of shops, public toilets and water point, and a very basic campsite. Be careful of the cycleway signs you follow, here, as the local cycle routes criss-cross the village.

After a snooze, we left Corgnac and began a 5km climb to the hilltop town of Thiviers. The road was slightly busier but the masses of elderflower, the dog roses, buttercups and cow parsley made it a pleasant ride. We’d have an ice-cream in Thiviers as a reward.

Our arrival in Thiviers took us past a Lidl to the centre. We visited Thiviers when we cycled the St.Pardoux-la-Rivière to Thiviers stretch of the Flow Vélo, and I didn’t warm to it then. The fact there was nowhere open to buy a decent ice-cream didn’t endear it to me this time either. Sorry, Thiviers. Despite the plethora of little boutiques, I’m not a fan.

With 22 km on the clock, we bought an industrial ice-cream at the supermarket and then headed back towards Excideuil. I counted the uphills: there were seven. Seven! It’s definitely electric bike territory. And we weren’t the only cyclists suffering from the hills. It broke my heart to have to tell an exhausted cyclist coming up the Rue de l’Abime with a load that he still had a 5km climb before he reached his destination in Thiviers.

I must admit that my legs were aching when, at 44 km, we reached the main square in Excideuil, the end of our return journey. Was it any wonder that when we saw people sitting at Le Fin Chapon terrace drinking aperitifs in the evening sunlight, we decided to join them?

That’s the point at which I discovered that today’s route is classed as ‘average difficulty’. The route we’d planned for the next day – 50 km between Excideuil and Le Lardin plus the return 50 km – is classed as ‘difficult’. We also learnt that the spell of good weather might break.

Can you guess what decision we made when we woke to the pitter-patter of raindrops on our tent the next morning?

Our long weekend of cycling had resulted in 44 km out of the planned 220 km. Strangely, I wasn’t surprised we failed to reach our objective. It was a little optimistic.

Obviously, we’ll have to come back to continue our exploration of the Flow Vélo extension. The question is, will we be focussed enough to avoid a stop at Rénamont?

Flow Vélo 9 : Going Solo

La Flow Vélo from Nontron to St Pardoux La Rivière

Rain pelted against my car windscreen. It was 8°C outside, mist hung low over the hilltop town of Nontron and I wondered what I was doing here, alone, when I could have been curled up with a book in front of my fireplace.

The trouble was that I’d told people I was doing this short section of the Flow Vélo today. It was the missing piece in a jigsaw that was almost complete. I’d never hear the end of it if I just drove home.

I was in the Dordogne for a Saturday writing workshop and had tried to persuade my husband to come for the weekend so we could cycle together afterwards. But exciting things were happening at home. The male solitary bees woke up last week and were buzzing in a frenzy around the bamboo hotel my husband made them, waiting for the females. The first ones had just hatched. It was impossible for him to be absent right now.

The rain stopped. I found a car park, remembering from our last visit that Nontron is a town of steep hills and viaducts, with a lower part and an upper part.

I was in the upper part, where the Flow Vélo arrives from the west. Making up my mind to cycle, even if it was just for a spin around the town, I heaved my bike out of the car.

I’d spent the previous night in a friendly Airbnb near Excideuil and, prior to the writing workshop, had discovered the pretty town with its eye-catching castle (and lack of open restaurants).

I always pop into tourist offices, and Excideuil was no exception. That’s when I learnt the news. About the Flow Vélo.

The 290km cycleway is being extended in the Dordogne. In May, another 60km will be added, passing through Excideuil on the journey from Thiviers to Le-Lardin-St-Nazare. And after that, right down to Sarlat. In fact, there have been lots of developments to the route since last summer, as you can see in the 2023 Press Release. Typically, just as I’m nearing completion of it, I’ll have to start all over again!

I cycled around Nontron, searching for the Flow Vélo signposts. Knowing that I’d be coming back for the extension added to my lack of motivation. But – hang on – was that a glimpse of blue sky? The prospect of a little sun changed everything. After 2km of ups and downs, I found the exit from Nontron via the lower town.

The missing section in my Flow Vélo adventure was a mere 17km stretch of road, which meant a 34km return journey. I’d learnt from my mistakes about being over-ambitious last year: today’s objective was manageable. With a bit of luck I could have a coffee or even my picnic in St Pardoux before heading back.

Cowslips and banks of white blackthorn blossom restored my good mood as I pedalled up the long, gentle hill out of Nontron. I even heard my first cuckoo of the year.

My frozen fingers were soon warm and, although I was on the D707 main road, there were some interesting sights to stop and look at. Yes, that’s someone’s letterbox.

Just after, the route followed a much smaller lane, more characteristic of the Flow Vélo.

The lane cut through deforested woodland, saddening me, but there were sections of woods too, complete with woodpeckers, a couple of noisy jays and carpets of violets. There was also a pleasant silence – nothing to do with the absence of my husband.

I almost enjoyed the kilometres of descent, passing hamlets, noting the growing patches of blue in the sky and saying hello to the few people I passed. The only problem was knowing that, in a few hours, I’d be toiling up the same hill.

I was surprised to arrive at St Pardoux an hour and a quarter later with just 13km on my counter. I checked my guide. Silly me. The 17km were for the whole stage, which ends in Milhac-de-Nontron, a further 5km on.

Should I continue? Could I make it to the beautiful village of St.Jean-de-Côle for lunch?

No. I’m being reasonable this year.

Instead, I cycled around the village of St Pardoux, remembering our last trip here in 2020, when I first discovered the Flow Vélo. It’s a perfect place to camp for a few days. I tried to find a bottle of Two Bears’ beer (Les 2 Ours) to take home for my husband but Sundays aren’t the best days from a shopping point of view.

After a break, I climbed back onto my saddle and left for Nontron.

It’s actually fascinating coming back the same way, as you don’t see the same things. At least, that’s what I tried to tell myself as I passed this signpost that reminded me what lay ahead (translation: Hilly Road).

Actually, it wasn’t as bad as I feared. The steep parts of the 3km-climb (yes, I measured it) were balanced by flat parts.

At 1pm I arrived in Nontron, my legs nevertheless aching: it was only my second outing of the season.

At first I cursed myself for parking at the top of town. But the route leading through Nontron took me up a pretty street, making up for my aches.

Arriving at the car, with 28km on my counter, I decided to treat myself to a meal at Le Bacchus brasserie. And there I learnt that Les 2 Ours beer was no longer made in Nontron. The brewers have moved to St-Médard-de-Mussidan.

I wonder if it’s on the new Flow Vélo route? If so, I’m sure my husband will be by my side for that stretch. My fingers are crossed.

Come Geeking

I wouldn’t say I was a geek. But when I heard about an English literary event only a couple of hours from home, I was like a dog when its master holds up its lead and says, ‘Walkies!’

A writing workshop?

At a château?

In the Dordogne?

Wagging my (figurative) tail, I signed up for an afternoon focussing on memoir. And that’s how I found myself, on April Fool’s Day, at the beautiful Saint-Germain-des-Prés château, writing my life story alongside 15 other geeks writers.

The event was a collaboration between Manor & Maker, the business name chosen by château owners Sara and Stephen Cole, and an experienced memoir workshop leader called Catharine.

And the good news is that it’s not a one-off event.

The idea behind the Manor & Maker retreats is to provide a safe space where people can enjoy doing their favourite creative activity with like-minded people. As Stephen says: ‘If you geek out about something, come and geek with us.’

Our hosts welcomed us into their home with tea, coffee and biscuits, giving us the necessary sustenance for two hours of writing under Catharine’s guidance.

The 19th century château is charming, not just from the outside, but also in terms of the interior decoration with its wooden panelling and period furniture.

We were even invited to climb up the inside of the 16th century tower.

The top room was closed, a home for bats while it awaits renovation, but I preferred to imagine a young princess imprisoned inside, poised to let down her hair.

Fifteen of us sat around the dining table for the workshop. It was lovely to see familiar faces but also to meet lots of people with fascinating life stories to write.

Through a series of exercises, debriefs and discussions, Catharine whetted our appetites to continue meeting and sharing work.

After a pause, during which Sara and Stephen treated us to delicious nibbles and wine while we got to know each other, we were regaled with readings from memoir authors.

Susie Kelly read a moving extract from I wish I could say I was Sorry and a light-hearted flying anecdote from It’s a Mad World. Jackie Skingley read from High Heels and Beetle Crushers and gave us a sneak preview of the sequel, Burnt Eggs and Caviar. And Patrick Doherty read from his Irish memoir I am Patrick.

It was a convivial afternoon in a setting that’s perfectly adapted for group events. Sara and Stephen’s attention brought a warmth we wouldn’t have had in a village hall.

Given the excellent attendance at the workshop, Catharine is hoping to make it a monthly event, so if you live near Excideuil and are interested in writing your memoir, contact Manor & Maker.

I caught Sara and Stephen as they mingled, checking that everyone had everything they needed, and asked them a few questions about the inspiration behind their business and their decision to leave Canada and buy a castle in France.

Stephen is a painter and designer, while Sara is a historical clothes maker. Here’s a photo of them, costumed, in Venice (photo courtesy of Stephen Cole).

The couple have many artistic friends and loved the idea of bringing people together so they could comfortably be their best selves with others sharing the same passion.

But why France? Why a château?

‘It’s my parents’ fault,’ says Sara. ‘They were a pilot and flight attendant, which meant we travelled a lot. When I was 15, we stayed in a Loire château and I was impressed when the marquis swept into the castle wearing his cape. That moment stayed with me.’

Although they love Canada, they’d been talking about living in Europe for a decade. ‘In Toronto, it felt as if I was living to work,’ says Stephen. ‘The attitude in Europe is more about working to live. Also, we both love art and history. We wanted to be surrounded by them.’

They almost moved to the UK, but the idea of being able to drive to another country in the space of a few hours tipped them towards mainland Europe. ‘In Canada, you can drive 24 hours and still be in the same province,’ says Stephen.

Having searched the Limousin and Creuse for Sara’s dream castle, they found it in the Dordogne in 2020. ‘As soon as we opened the front door, we fell in love,’ says Stephen. By August 2021 they were living there – though Sara’s marquis hasn’t swept into the château yet.

Perhaps the marquis led to the idea of their inaugural Belle Epoch retreat, to be held in May. This will bring together costumers and artists for a weekend, the idea being that the artists paint costumed models while they stroll around the château grounds. Does this raise geek reactions in you? If so, contact Manor & Maker.

‘When designing clothes, it’s important to have the right garments for the right periods,’ says Stephen. ‘Clothes speak strongly about cultural differences throughout history. They’re a way to time travel.’

Costuming isn’t the only creative activity you’ll find at the château. Forthcoming retreats in 2023 include encaustic painting (painting with beeswax – a technique used by the ancient Egyptians); a Gourmet retreat with a Le Cordon Bleu-trained chef from Paris; a poetry course with talented poet Kate Rose; and an open writing residency, fondly referred to by Sara as ‘Ditch the Distractions’.

If you’re interested in participating in any of these – or if you have ideas for other creative retreats you’d like to see there, Sara and Stephen would be happy to hear from you on their Manor & Maker website or youtube channel, where they vlog regularly about life in their château.

But of course you need to be a geek to participate. And none of us are that, are we?