October 6, 2019
Saint-Antonin-Noble-Val
Mark and Paul, my hosts in Eymet, had previously run a chambre d'hôte in Saint-Antonin-Noble-Val and raved about this medieval village located in the gorges of the Aveyron River. Mark commented that it was great biking country, noting that some friends of theirs, Natalie and Peter, ran a chambre d'hôte while Peter also did cycling tours. Acting on my instincts to trust local knowledge, I decided to skip my planned trip to Saint-Cirq-Lapopie and head south for Saint-Antonin-Noble-Val.
Before leaving Cahors, I stopped at bakery and splurged on a chocolate bar as well as a chocolate-almond croissant, thinking I might need a treat on this damp and cloudy day. The route took me through a southern section of the Parc naturel régional des Causses du Quercy, a rolling, scruffy landscape. The air was heavy and damp, with a stillness broken only by the sounds of hunters and their belled dogs. The dampness was the sort that creeps in through the small openings of your protective outerwear and wraps itself around your core, giving you a chill that no amount of pedaling can ablate. I pulled into Lalbenque and found a small bakery open this Sunday morning. Although the baked goods on offer were reduced to one baguette, they did have coffee and a little table where I could savor my warm drink and Cahors croissant.
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| Heart | 2 | Comment | 0 | Link |
The landscape opened up after I left the park, and I was soon back in a farm country with open fields and pastures. I could see Puylaroque in the distance, where Google Maps indicated an open restaurant, Les Sens. In my single-minded focus on food and warmth, I vaguely registered the Michelin 2019 plaque outside the restaurant and the staff surprise when I walked in asking for a table for one. When seated, I took in the restaurant décor, diners, and menu, and recalled that Sunday lunch is a special meal, where one dresses up for lunch with family and special friends. It dawned on me that I had stumbled into a fine dining establishment and would be here for quite a while. Opting not to leave, I spent the next two hours enjoying another memorable and surprising French dining experience, one of the best ever. In this little town, in the middle of nowhere.
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| Heart | 3 | Comment | 0 | Link |
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While I was inside enjoying my Sunday feast, outside it had begun to rain. Within a minute of leaving the restaurant, I stopped and donned my full rain gear – pants, booties, gloves, and helmet cover. Over the next ten miles, I rode east into the driving rain, reaching Caylus a bit damp and dejected. When I saw a sign for a Logis Hotel, the thought of stopping flashed in my head, but quickly dismissed. As I turned south, the rain let up a bit and I was soon following the Bonnette River on a recently sealed road through a canopy of plane trees. It was a magical ride on a black carpet winding ever so gently and gradually downward to Saint-Anton-Noble-Val.
The rain had ceased by the time I pulled into the cobbled square of this medieval town. As I paused to check my last bit of navigation to the chambre d'hôte, a woman approached me, curious as to where I had come from and where I was going. We chatted for about five minutes, and as I followed her down a narrow street I called out and asked if she would take my picture. A small crowd gathered about and, as the woman recounted the gist of my story, they also snapped photos and cheered me on. All the misery of the day melted away. I watched the sun set beyond the limestone cliffs of the Roc d'Anglars and decided to spend a few extra days in this enchanted village.
Today's ride: 38 miles (61 km)
Total: 849 miles (1,366 km)
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It's always a celebration to finish a hard day, and this one was especially rewarding.
4 years ago