Campervan Therapy

Luzech

I love how water goes with the flow and I’m happiest doing that too, so it’s no surprise that we find ourselves by yet another river, the green and verdant Lot. We’re visiting friends, Jonathan and Clare, who’ve moved to the village of Luzech. We lunch and chat under the wisteria, looking out on the tree covered hills and an ancient keep below in the town. Our backs against the green shuttered house and its tower.  I begin to think I’m in a French film.

Caïx

Seán finds a camper stop nearby in Caïx on Search for Sites – the beauty of visiting friends and exploring at the same time.

 The site’s down at heel. But it’s beside a café that looks out on green river. We pop over for a glass of rosé and it’s as if I’ve walked into a fantasy novel set in the old southern kingdom of Occitan. In fact we are, indeed, in the Occitan, with its romantic language on signs more Italian than French.

Church at Caïx

The Occitan court were great patrons of troubadours, of poetry and music – and that court comes alive for us here. We stumble on a band of strolling minstrels in the riverside bar.

A young man, with curly dark hair, rivals Narnia’s Mr Tumnus in the faun stakes. When he plays the flute I’m transported to another world indeed –  a virtuoso performance that wouldn’t be out of place in The Albert Hall. Except it’s more magical than that, with the fairy lights reflected on the water and the six musicians just loving the music they’re making. The group chip in with song, guitar and accordion.  They sing acapella, they eat, drink their wine, and play for the next two hours.

The Château de Cayx

The Late Prince of Denmark’s summer palace is here, surrounded by the Cahors vineyards. We walk the 1.5 kilometres to it the next morning. It’s a beautiful warm-stone turreted building, the bronze statue of Ceres drinking her wine sculpted by the prince himself.

Cahors Vineyards

This is serious wine country and because of the supercharged heat of this summer, the grapes are ready a month early and some trees are already turning copper. I’m delighted as a woodpecker flies across the lane in front of me and a young deer runs through the vines.

Himself is delighted with the Citroen Dyane that stutters up the mountainside – it takes him back to the one we drove to Corfu in on our honeymoon. But this isn’t a hired touristic piece of nostalgia. A weathered farmer shouts well done as I jog on ahead of Himself, a young boy rattles around in the boot beside half oak barrels and all sorts of vineyard gizmos.

The Lot Valley

We drive past castle after castle, tower after tower, vineyard after vineyard, rustic house after rustic house, the russet cliffs rising here and there above the river. The Lot is worth a detour.

The Money?

Aire L’Eau Berge de Caix Campsite – €9.60 per night