We wound our way south this morning under the storm cloud of strikes, demonstrations protesting the cost of fuel by the truckers, taxis, and ambulances. They planned their "blockages" for after 9am so that the candidates for the baccalaureat who began testing today would not have any trouble getting to the test on time. The slowdown, sometimes called "les escargots," involves lines of truck cabs, taxis, and ambulances driving at 20 mph on the highway to disrupt traffic flow. The signs on their bumpers read, "the transport industry: on the road to disappearance." Our driver sympathized with their dilemma, since if they pass on the rising cost of fuel to customers, they lose business, but he was beside himself with worry that we would not be able to make time on the highway to reach Lascaux for our 4pm appointment. In the end, we did come up behind the protesters, but they did a u-turn only a few miles later, so we saw them coming back the other way and had a clear shot of road through the lovely countryside of the Périgord region.
Manuel chose roads that gave us a scenic view of this southwestern area, pointing out the different architecture of homes, the color changing with the color of the stone quarried locally, the style reflecting local tastes. We marveled at the frequent chateaux and churches, and the occasional abbey, dotting the rolling hills and nestled in the verdant valleys.We lunched at a shopping center since he was within a half hour of his mandatory stop time and did not want to risk having to stop with no rest area on the highway. The "Flunch" was a great little cafeteria, very wide variety of salads, fruits, grill, and desserts on a sort of buffet. Others chose the take-away sandwichs at Carrefour, a Wal-Mart like supermarket whose name means "Crossroads." Appropriate for Hoosiers!
The Lascaux caves were simply stunning to me. The concept of man as an artist, a dreamer, a spiritual thinking being - 17,000 years ago! - defies expression. Imagine if you had been the 15 year old with his hunting dog and buddies who in rescuing the dog that had chased his prey down the hole left by a violent storm uprooting an ancient tree slid 15 feet down into the perfectly preserved cave of prehistoric painting. That 15 year old became the guardian of the grotto until his death in 1989. His teacher became a prehistoric specialist, another became a teacher. Several of them are still living.
The cave is closed to all but the most upper echelon researchers due to the damage done by the thousands of tourists exhaling carbon dioxide in the first years following the discovery in 1940. A perfect replica created square inch at a time and painted using the same techniques allows guided tours to walk through the dark grotto and view the artwork as close to its original lighting as possible.
The brilliant realism of the horses, the deer, the bulls, the bison, and the mysterious symbolism of the geometric signs connected us to our ancestors in a visceral way. How easy to dismiss those from a less technological time as ignorant savages! Even to a point as near as our own pioneer times, that look back with arrogant disdain is an easy pitfall. These painting were not created by savages, by wild, uncivilized creatures. They witness to the complexity of human life, from its conception.
A short drive through the rural hills brought us here to Payrac, where some of us took a walk before supper, others after. The town is closed - hard for big city kids to understand that concept! - but it is lovely nonetheless. What a privilege to watch these children - and their mothers! - discovering the beauty of another corner of this earth, with whose inhabitants, though distant in time or space, we find a common bond.
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