France: Lascaux IV
May. 19th, 2025 04:41 pmIt is impossible to go into the caves at Lascaux -- and that's been true since 1963 -- but they have created substitutes over the years. Lascaux IV is the most comprehensive, and it's brilliant.
We decided to go at noon because that was when we could go at our own pace. There were two English language tours in the morning (and two in the afternoon) where we would have had to stay with the group. By arriving at lunchtime, we could get headsets.
The very first area in the cave replica, it talked about a bull to my left. I saw horses, which were also mentioned, but no bull. Then I took a step back and realized that the bull was huge. It was so big (probably 2.5' by just under 4') that my eye rejected it for the smaller horses.
The whole thing was beautiful. The layout got a little claustrophobic, especially with the cane, but I was so glad that I got to see it in context.
There was a room which allowed us to interact with parts of the exhibits in isolation, showing us incised sections that we may have missed or details that don't stand out when it's so far above you.
Before we left we had a cheese plate and a crepe, then went back to the car.
Now this whole "Fabi can't find reverse" meant that![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
neotoma had been helping me out of spots by pushing the car while I had it in neutral and steered. This didn't work once we hit a barred route on our way back -- no suggested detour sign -- and ended up on driveways. We ended up stuck at one house for about half an hour before we made ourselves heard. The gentleman there backed the car up and gave us a better idea of how to get back to where we needed to be (I'd made a reservation at another hotel well in advance including a dinner reservation at the bistro). He also tried to show me what I needed to do to find reverse, but I misunderstood the directions. Also, bless him, he told me I had a very good accent when speaking French. On a wearying afternoon, the compliment meant everything to me.
Two or three towns later, I missed a turn. This time an old man -- probably my age, but we never really see ourselves as old -- called his son who spoke English. They helped us get out of their driveway and back on the correct road, and this time when I was shown how to get the car into reverse, it clicked.
We had a nice evening in a room at the top of a flight of steep stairs, and the dinner at the bistro was nice. There were also some very well behaved dogs at the bistro.
The following morning, after a good buffet breakfast, the woman at the front desk helped us find our way to the autoroute. She wrote down the name of each town we needed where a shift from country road D2 to country road D734 (or whatever the actual route numbers were) would take place. There must have been 8 names. This was whereneotoma and I cheered when we found a country road wide enough that there were lines painted on it. I still wasn't going anywhere near 80 kph.
We found the autoroute -- which was a toll road (we took it and prayed it took credit card) -- and spent most of the rest of the drive doing 130 kph (~80 mph). We made it to Toulouse in time for our train to Narbonne. After that we took the "poor man's TGV" back to Paris. They announced when we were going to our top speed of 320 kph (~199 mph), and the countryside passed by swiftly.
We decided to go at noon because that was when we could go at our own pace. There were two English language tours in the morning (and two in the afternoon) where we would have had to stay with the group. By arriving at lunchtime, we could get headsets.
The very first area in the cave replica, it talked about a bull to my left. I saw horses, which were also mentioned, but no bull. Then I took a step back and realized that the bull was huge. It was so big (probably 2.5' by just under 4') that my eye rejected it for the smaller horses.
The whole thing was beautiful. The layout got a little claustrophobic, especially with the cane, but I was so glad that I got to see it in context.
There was a room which allowed us to interact with parts of the exhibits in isolation, showing us incised sections that we may have missed or details that don't stand out when it's so far above you.
Before we left we had a cheese plate and a crepe, then went back to the car.
Now this whole "Fabi can't find reverse" meant that
neotoma had been helping me out of spots by pushing the car while I had it in neutral and steered. This didn't work once we hit a barred route on our way back -- no suggested detour sign -- and ended up on driveways. We ended up stuck at one house for about half an hour before we made ourselves heard. The gentleman there backed the car up and gave us a better idea of how to get back to where we needed to be (I'd made a reservation at another hotel well in advance including a dinner reservation at the bistro). He also tried to show me what I needed to do to find reverse, but I misunderstood the directions. Also, bless him, he told me I had a very good accent when speaking French. On a wearying afternoon, the compliment meant everything to me.Two or three towns later, I missed a turn. This time an old man -- probably my age, but we never really see ourselves as old -- called his son who spoke English. They helped us get out of their driveway and back on the correct road, and this time when I was shown how to get the car into reverse, it clicked.
We had a nice evening in a room at the top of a flight of steep stairs, and the dinner at the bistro was nice. There were also some very well behaved dogs at the bistro.
The following morning, after a good buffet breakfast, the woman at the front desk helped us find our way to the autoroute. She wrote down the name of each town we needed where a shift from country road D2 to country road D734 (or whatever the actual route numbers were) would take place. There must have been 8 names. This was where
neotoma and I cheered when we found a country road wide enough that there were lines painted on it. I still wasn't going anywhere near 80 kph.We found the autoroute -- which was a toll road (we took it and prayed it took credit card) -- and spent most of the rest of the drive doing 130 kph (~80 mph). We made it to Toulouse in time for our train to Narbonne. After that we took the "poor man's TGV" back to Paris. They announced when we were going to our top speed of 320 kph (~199 mph), and the countryside passed by swiftly.
