Our plan was to get there early. The guide books said it was very popular. Today the French beat us; well at least some did. We drove into the small village (a cluster of shops, cafes and hotels really) and parked the car in the shade of a grove of trees. There were not many cars around and there we only a few people walking towards the entry to La Gouffre. John thought we would wander down check out the lay of land and wander back for a cuppa. As we walked the 400m down the road to the entrance gates we understood what the guide books meant when they said popular. Ten minutes before opening time and the queue was already snaking back at least 200 metres maybe 250.
Just over an hour later we bought our tickets. And walk down the 135m into into the giant sink hole La Gouffe de Padriac.
La Gouffe is a massive cave system, with an underground river running through it. In fact the river carved down through the rock for millions of years to create the caves. It is like a mini underground grand canyon. The stalagmites and stalactites were created, at about 1mm per year, by the water dripping through the limestone rock from the roof above.
Aboard a small dinghy type boat we are poled along the crystal clear water of the river (a la Venice style) exploring the enormity and the majesty of the caves. The ceiling of the cave in places is 250m above the river. Some of the stalactites are 30m long (30,000 years of water drips). Part of the tour is by boat and then there is a walk up and down hundreds of concrete steps though the cave.
The are no photos allowed inside so we have to content our selves with photos of postcards. Although for something like this, no photo is ever going to be able to capture the hugeness.
Note the steps going up into the cave. Gives you some idea of the scale.
By the end of the tour we are ready to take the lift back to the surface. No more stairs please.
At the top we step into the hot midday sun. The queue has now grown to over 500m, maybe more. Thousands of people, mostly family groups. From the far end of the queue they can expect at least a 2 hours maybe 3 hours wait, just to buy their tickets. Two hours after that they will be back at the surface blinking their eyes in the late afternoon sun.
We finally get our cuppa and have some lunch. It has been a long time since breakfast.
After lunch it is on to Rocamadour a village built on a cliff face, that has existed since medieval times. One of the first places of Christian pilgrimages since 12th century when the body of St Amadour (Zacchaeus the tax collector from Jesus time) was found perfectly preserved in a cave near by.
We drive through the flat countryside and wonder aloud where the hell is the mountain that this town is built on. First we see the car parks (full of course), then the cafes and hotels, must be close but where is the mountain. Then we see Rocamadour the wall of the “ravine” it is built on. We didn't see that one coming.
The road down the wall of ravine is narrow and very winding. At one point near the top, larger cars and buses have to make a 3 point turn to get round the corner because it is so sharp. Jenelle is not so quietly having kittens.
Since we have been driving in France there has been some sort of role reversal. Jenelle is now taken over the role of designated worrier and John has slipped into some kind of nary a care driver. Jenelle's commentary goes like this “My side John, my side” or “Not too far over to my side” That's because her side is generally on the edge of a sharp drop off or precipice or within an inch of some stone wall and Jenelle can see the potential for disaster. John's commentary is “Breath, Jenelle breath”
Anyway since we are posting this blog you are safe to assume we made it up and down the ravine to bring you these wonderful photos.
Of course along the way we are stop (where we can) to get that panoramic shot.
The viaduct...
The motorway....
The river...
