Cahors

Cahors is my ideal kind of French town: civilised, dozens of cafes, a good art gallery, SNCF station and regional cuisine. Not many hotels, mind you, but we got a river view room with veranda at the La Chartreuse.

The Musee Henri Martin had an exhibition by a local artist who I'd never heard of who went under the name of Louttre. B. He died this year. There was an interesting video on loop about him. He painted gigantic canvases mainly in acrylic mixed with sand or oil a la bombe - not sure what that means.

There must have been 75 of these canvases on display and each and every one of them was immense. We bought the exhibition catalogue.

For me, these paintings constitute art that cannot be bettered.

A selection:

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There was a funny little stone booth on the main bridge in Cahors around which and all day hovered a continual stream of well equipped middle-aged hikers.

eg

In fact, it turned out to be a staging post on the famous and fashionable pilgrimage route to Compostelle.

Vieux Boucau where we stayed a couple of weeks ago and which is on the Atlantic coast, is another.

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Last night's dinner:

Our hotel in Cahors turned out to have a top notch regional restaurant and served up probably our best meal yet.

Foie gras

Cod

Followed by a creme brulee which I forgot to photograph.

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Cahors wine:

The local wine, obviously, is Cahors and the area is covered in vines. But although I have drunk plenty of supermarket Cahors over the years, and presumably enjoyed it, I liked neither last night's wine nor the Cahors we drunk in Villeneuve sur Lot the night before. Too much tannin for me.