See how the back wall of this house is the cliff itself? That's what's called a
troglodyte house. Our hotel in the town of Les Eyzies de Tayac was a
troglodyte hotel and the National Museum of Prehistory is a
troglodyte museum. In fact, much of the town of Les Eyzies de Tayac is a
troglodyte town! See?
This town is the best place to stay for much of the prehistoric art available to be seen by the public.
Let's lace up our walking shoes and hit the trail. Destination: la Gorge d'Enfer ... Hell's Throat. A lot of the canyons here have amusing religious names; my favorite is Calvin's Flesh. Up, up, up hill we trek, the day getting sunnier by the minute. Now down, down, down, up another hill, pushing over a barbed wire fence to pass through, up and around and down and up. Don't rely on that railing because it's rotted! You'll fall to your doom! And don't look down because that crevass? That's La Gorge d'Enfer, and that green metal door in the side of the cliff is the entrance to the Shelter of the Fish.
It's locked. Listen, what's inside is insanely irreplaceable. The guardian will be along in a moment. Out here, t's hot but inside the shelter (which is really a small cave), it will be cool as a cucumber.
And dark. The cave is dark. Our guide has a flashlight. He shines it around the walls: nothing.
Now up on the ceiling ... oh!
The fish is a carving of a salmon, about a yard long. How old do you think it is?
Answer: It dates from 25,000 B.C. All those thousands of years ago, someone stood right where we're standing and carved it.
Now, how about some lunch? No, not fish. It's a five minute stroll to a café that serves the best mushroom omelettes. The name of the mushrooms is
cèpe. Everyone considers them a delicacy and I agree. So much better than f.g., the goose liver paste that, like Vldmrt, shall never be named.
And for dessert, we could have the crème brûlée. You know I never say no to that!
More later ...