Champs-Romain

We headed north into the Limousin national park. After a bit of dicking about we wandered into the Hotel de France in Saint-Pardoux-la-Rivière. It looked quiet, but the terasse out back was full. The menu du jour was excellent - pâté, quiche, grated carrot & celeriac were starters (after a gazpacho amuse bouche), followed by pheasant supreme and a cakey-meringuey-puddingy dessert. All washed down with a glass of red. And served by a lad who had moved to France from Huntingdon at the age of 7.

After that feast we attempted a much shorter walk (part of the Boucle du Tacot at http://www.dordogne-perigord-tourisme.fr/nature%20et%20loisirs/rando/pedestre/images/carto_St_Pardoux.pdf). Early on, we forsook the path for a scramble along the side of the stream and ended up in this lovely clearing. We snoozed on a bridge made from a concrete electricity pylon, watching shiny blue dragon flies and plump orange slugs.

Later, I heard a familiar thumping and we stumbled upon a real, live hydraulic ram pump. Video available on demand ;)

Out first choice campsite was full, so we drove to Nontron, where there was plenty of space (the knife festival ended yesterday and everyone left this morning). We wander up to town - it's really lovely, old asymmetrical buildings filling a steep, narrow valley.

Almost all the restaurants are shut on Mondays and it's looking like we'll have to eat kebab when we find Brasserie Bacchus at the top of the town. Angus disgraces his reputation by having burger and chips, but I fly the gourmand flag with the Salade Perigordine - including foie gras and magret de canard. Stuffed, we waddle back down the hill for our final night under canvas.