Carnet de Voyage: Love le Lot

Travel notes from the real France. Carnet de Voyage is a weekly personal travel story in France sent in by readers. If you’d like to write a story for Carnet de Voyage, head here for details on how to submit. 

‘C’est le silence,’ said my friend, Michel, who’d come to the hamlet for a few days to escape Toulon’s swarms of summer tourists. ‘Le silence…’ His voice sank to a reverential whisper. ‘Le silence…’ 

Every summer we load the car with luggage, children and Alfie the dog and set off across la Manche on our twelve-hour drive down to a tiny hamlet in the Lot department, southwest France. I’d never come across Le Lot before, more familiar with popular destinations like Provence, the Loire or Bordeaux, until 14 years ago my father presented us with the wild idea of purchasing and renovating a crumbling, overgrown barn deep in the unspoilt, Lotois countryside. I’m forever grateful that he did. With the help of indefatigable local craftsmen and an incredibly patient architect, over the years it has become a welcoming and habitable place alongside plentiful bats, spiders, mice and the occasional snake; rural living at its best, a blissful refuge, and possessing, as Michel said, the purest silence. My heart’s home. 

The Lot, situated in Occitanie and known in pre-revolutionary times as Quercy, often skulks in the shadow of the better-known Dordogne, but it is a distinctive department in its own right. With its unique gastronomy, landscape, history, architecture, and mode de vie, it is a kingdom of secrets. Around every corner or along every cobbled ruelle, a surprise lies in wait; dolmen (ancient megalithic tombs), lavoirs (communal wash houses), ancient drystone dwellings, pigeonniers (dovecotes), working and abandoned walnut mills, overgrown bread ovens, donjons, the list is endless…  

There are the deservedly well-known and impressive ‘must-see’ communes of Rocamadour, Puy-l’Évêque, and Saint-Cirq-Lapopie yet the territory is ripe for further exploration. Le Lot may not boast the grandiose, stately châteaux of the Loire but it most certainly has its fair share of indomitable fortresses teetering on rocky outcrops over twisting, emerald rivers. 

Many of the towns and villages date back to Roman times with stunning Romanesque churches (Carennac, Marcilhac-sur-Célé) providing a glorious feast for history lovers and during World War II, the rugged terrain with its caves, tunnels and isolated dwellings offered the perfect hideaway for la Résistance. You can still find vestiges of their presence today, along with museums in Figeac and Cahors, and a plaque near Miers marks the spot where two secret British agents parachuted onto the plateau.  

Le Lot mesmerizes in its diversity, wondrously slipping from craggy, sparse limestone plateaus reminiscent of wild African bushland (the Causses du Quercy national park is a UNESCO global geopark) to abundant river valleys lavished with fruit and walnut trees and open, rolling countryside speckled with enchanting hilltop bastides which would give Tuscany a run for its money! The countryside nestles in its raw, secretive charm – remote hamlets with their quaint, drystone buildings, fastened in time, often seeming to have burgeoned directly from the rocky terrain, villages with their one boulangerie, boucherie or épicerie, the towns with their local markets. 

This striking, often untameable landscape has been the inspiration for much creative talent including the writer Françoise Sagan who was born in Cajarc, the poet Paul Valéry, and the writer David Garnet, a member of the Bloomsbury Group who chose to spend the final years of his life in Montcuq. It even inspired me to write my first novel and now my second! 

For those seeking action and adventure, the three rivers in the department (Dordogne, Lot and Célé) offer stunning kayaking and paddleboarding experiences or for a more sedate ride, you could take a gabarre (a barge). We’ve spent many a summer’s afternoon bathing in the river with a picnic on the pebble beach. The empty roads are a cyclist’s heaven, and you’ll often spot us setting off at dusk on our bikes for a loop around the neighbouring, slumbering hamlets. There are rambles aplenty over the wild plateaux for intrepid trekkers, and rock climbing. If you fancy something more challenging, then there is no shortage of underwater caves and chasms ready to welcome you into their mysterious, murky depths (the cave diving centre near Gramat is one of the largest in France). 

Not only is the scenery a joy to behold but it yields some of the tastiest, most exquisite natural delicacies too. Le Lot is revered for its walnuts (even having its own dedicated Route de la noix), saffron, truffles, mushrooms, melons, strawberries and Cabécou goat cheese to name a few. It’s a hearty, truly seasonal cuisine with most dishes on local menus comprising duck, lamb, trout, best accompanied by a glass of the famous ‘black’ Cahors Malbec or equally quaffable local wine (there are vineyards galore to the south of the region!). 

Life here is dictated by the elements and landscape. Founded mainly on agriculture and heavily reliant on tourism from spring to early autumn, more people, drawn to a quieter, more fulfilled way of life are taking up dying artisanal trades. Here in le Lot the seasons reign and are respected. Nothing is wasted and every resident in our hamlet and beyond still pickles, preserves and confits whatever they can, cramming musty cellar shelves with rows of bottles and jars, following centuries of ancient traditions and recipes. 

Many like me are enchanted by the Lot’s magic. Although this leisurely, traditional pace of life isn’t for all (says she with three teenagers!), it’s difficult to resist its allure. Over time, you grow accustomed to the shops (and I mean, all the shops) being closed from Sunday lunch time, that Monday is an extension of the weekend, so little is open, and that restaurants (the good ones you really do need to book) start service at 12 and often stop promptly at 1.30. Life as we know it grinds to a halt for the sacred lunchtime lull and well into the afternoon.  

Some, after the sparkling ebullience of summer, will flee the department at the first whiff of winter, moaning that everything is dead. But the Lot isn’t dead, it’s just different. It’s a time for hibernation. There are plenty of ways to navigate the languorous, winter months (whether feasting before fires in cosy auberges or visiting places free from the summer crowds). Besides, I think these periods of high and low season reflect the overall French way of life and the importance of slowing down, taking time to reflect, recalibrate, be silent, be still, to simply listen to the magic of the world around you. 

So, if you are drawn to a silence of the land, where you can drive for miles on solitary roads, hearing nothing but the cicadas, the rustle of wild grass, the bewitching call of a tawny owl then le Lot is the place for you. Experience for yourself the silence of the sky, undisturbed by human interference and now considered one of the purest night skies in France. 

There is a silence here, and it is a silence loud with beauty. 

Read our other Carnet de Voyage entries here. 

Melanie J Corrigan is a writer, EFL teacher, mother, and fungi, dog and food lover who lives in Sussex but yearns to live forevermore in her crumbling barn in the Lot. She hopes to one day share her love and passion for the region with others by starting up a creative retreats and bespoke tours business. Alors, watch this space and meanwhile, that second novel needs finishing too!