Lush rolling hills, shrouded in August mist. Earth undulating, fields unfurling, carpets of green embellishing plains and plateaus. Beautiful bovine surveying lonely country trails. Medieval villages perching on hilltops and hidden in valleys, cobbled streets which wind and mingle with each other, each ancient alley and intimate square whispering it's own story.
I straddled the regions of the Aveyron and the Lot, named after the rivers which flow through them, for only a day or so this summer, but fell instantly under the spell of these wild and unspoilt départements.
In order of my brief discovery, below are some recommendations, if you ever find yourself in this wonderful corner of the continent.
Figeac is a picture-perfect town in the Lot, and the birthplace of Jean-François Champollion, famous French philologist (a satisfying tripe alliteration there), a founding father of Egyptology, best known for his deciphering of Egyptian hieroglyphs and his work on the Rosetta Stone. Rural France and ancient Egypt do appear as far removed as possible, but the two worlds smoothly meet at Figeac's Musée Champollion - Les Écritures du Monde, or 'Writings of the World'. A spin in here is a most agreeable hour or so for one to wander the small collection of artifacts and exhibitions , and embark on a gentle discovery of writing systems, the history and development of written language and the art of deciphering. I'll admit I didn't understand everything of the complex science of decipherment, and was quite content admiring the pretty fonts and calligraphy of the manuscripts and papyruses on display.
The town center of Figeac is a living museum in itself, a lively agglomeration of medieval towers and townhouses and array of boutiques and restaurants, bustling with tourists and locals alike. Also worth a visit is the enchanting village of Capdenac-Le-Haut, built atop a rocky cliff, offering grand vistas of the valleys below. Local lore boasts that Capdenac-Le-Haut is in fact Uxellodunum, the last Gaulish stronghold to be seized by Julius Caesar during the Roman invasion of France. Myth or fact, it's certainly a charming location for a goûter with a view.
But quite frankly, if you do only one activity in this region, I implore you to gorge on one of the local specialties. Tender Duck Magret with orange coulis and fresh salad. Goat's cheese galore, locally sourced gorgeous pungent packets of fermented milk. Fouace, crown-shaped artisan brioche beasts, generously flavoured with orange blossom. I'll leave you to salivate on that.
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