Périgord

The Périgord is traditionally divided into four shades, each matching a distinct landscape. Périgord Noir, to the south-east around Sarlat, takes its name from the oak and chestnut forests covering its hills, which look dark from a distance even at the height of summer. Périgord Blanc, around Périgueux, owes its name to the pale limestone that surfaces everywhere, in the fields as much as in the walls of the houses. To the north, Périgord Vert, wetter, keeps meadows and broadleaf forests that already hint at the Limousin beyond; to the south-west, Périgord Pourpre opens onto vine-covered slopes around Bergerac. None of these four names follows any administrative boundary: they simply say what the eye sees change while crossing the region. The Dordogne river has cut, in tight meanders, a valley lined with limestone cliffs that still carry the trace of old quarries and caves. At La Roque-Gageac, the houses lean directly against the rock face, some partly carved into the stone itself, beneath an overhang that shelters them as much as it visually looms over them from the river. On the heights above the valley, the castles of Beynac and Castelnaud face each other from two opposite promontories, remnants of a border that long separated French and English holdings during the Hundred Years' War; most of the valley's fortresses date from that period of shifting defensive lines rather than from a single reign or a single decision. The Périgord also keeps the trace of new towns founded all at once, on a planned layout rather than through gradual growth: the bastides, such as Domme or Monpazier, are organised around a central square lined with arcades, their streets crossing at right angles — a piece of town planning laid out in a single gesture, a sharp contrast with the winding lanes of older villages. Further north, the Vézère valley, a tributary of the Dordogne, carves its own limestone cliffs, pierced with shelters and caves — among them Lascaux — where prehistoric paintings have been found on several walls, evidence of continuous human presence over a span of time hard to measure against the length of a stay. The architecture of Périgord Noir is recognisable from a distance by its lauze roofs, heavy limestone slabs cut thin and stacked like scales, which demand a steep pitch to shed water and bear their own weight. The houses, built in pale golden stone, are often arranged around an enclosed courtyard, with a dovecote standing alone or attached to the main building. In the surrounding countryside, walnut trees occupy a good part of the farmed land, and the oaks on the dry slopes shelter truffles among their roots, harvested through winter. A stay here is built around the river — by canoe, on foot along its banks, or from the terraces of villages looking down on it — and around the farmers' markets that give rhythm to the villages without any single day being the same everywhere. The tourist name 'Dordogne valley' can sometimes suggest a uniform region; it is not one. The black of the forests, the white of the limestone, the green of the northern meadows and the purple of the south-western vineyards make up four different landscapes, linked by the same river and by a stone that changes shade without ever changing nature. What people come looking for is this visible stacking of layers — prehistoric, medieval, rural — across a territory that has stayed largely farmed, far from seaside resorts and large cities.