![]() The upper valley of the Dordogne River is a series of deep gorges, cliffs, and lakes. After a bit of meandering around, these two streams flow together and form the Dordogne River. In the mountains of the Massif Central, two small streams-the Dore and the Dogne-arise on the side of Puy de Sancy (Mount of the Cross), which at 6,184 feet (1,885 m) high is the highest mountain in the range. The sources of the Dordogne is found almost in the center of France-it’s just a bit too far south to call it the true center. However, Bordeaux is only part of the story of the Dordogne River. We look for a place to sit among the gourmands who have all had the same idea as us, and find ourselves very quickly putting the world to rights while night falls gently in the heat of the summer.The Dordogne River is well-known as one of the three main waterways that flow through and handily divide the Bordeaux AOC into the areas of the Right Bank, Left Bank, and Entre-Deux-Mers. Our ritual is to go to the night market of Saint-Cyprien or Bugue in the early evening.Īt this time of the day, it is certainly the aromas that lead us to the stalls, where we crack for a Périgord salad. Gastronomy and greed oblige, browsing the night markets of the Dordogne is not only discovering the know-how of the craftsmen, but also offering a mix of flavours. Night atmosphere at Dordogne producers' markets In June, it is even the children who drag us out of bed, eager to find their next holiday reading at the comic fair. In the medieval city of Issigeac, we arrive early so as to see the best items at the brocante, before consuming our goodies under the chestnut trees. Sunday is punctuated by good meals, much loved home cooking, with recipes passed on to the children so they in their turn can reproduce them. We do not have time to taste it before the neighbour adds some home produced prunes! A real family atmosphere typically found at the Périgord markets. We find Pierre, who beckons us among the visitors: "Come and see some friends, I have found a small goats cheese, you can tell me your news!". On Thursday, a family trip to the famous Monpazier market. There is a tradition that we never deviate from! Bring your camera to capture the beautiful secrets of the Bastide markets in the Périgord: a hidden ogival door, an alley sublimated by the sun's rays, a basket of vegetables with flamboyant colours. just before the final frame, we enjoy a small aperitif on a terrace just enough to gently awaken our appetite! Fellini would have also had a crush on this village with its sweet airs of Dolce Vita. On Friday, we set off for the Venice of the Dordogne! Small cobbled streets and charming canals, we love Brantôme market. ![]() ![]() And to find our favourite butcher, you need to visit the indoor market (open Tuesday to Saturday). We take the opportunity to regularly find books that cannot be found at the bookshop. Bergerac marketĪt the height of summer, Friday morning - Place Gambetta is shaded at this time of the day! Here too, we find products of craftsmen and nuances of the Dordogne: the black gold of Périgord (the truffle), flamboyant baskets of delicious vegetables, and of course the famous local strawberries offering a festival of aromas and colours.Įvery Wednesday and Saturday, Bergerac market also extends around Notre-Dame church and Place Louis de la Bardonnie. With the idea of a family picnic in mind, we go off in search of our favourite regional products, and those advised by stallholders on each of our visits: good organic bread with seeds, goose foie gras, some tomatoes for an improvised salad, garlic for health, not to mention summer truffle tapenade, that can be found at Chez Francis "Sixth Sense", Place Saint-Silain, Périgueux. Start the day with a coffee/croissant opposite the cathedral Saint-Front before a stroll in the alleys of Périgueux market, not forgetting Rue Limogeanne, most famous for its gourmet shops.īasket in hand, we participate in local life, amongst the local accents, laughter of the tradesmen, and that special perfume of Périgord strawberries, our little Proustian moment, that one buys by punnetfuls to make jam with the children! During the holidays, it is always a pleasure to rediscover the same ritual. ![]()
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