A mad god's dream

It's the biggest arts festival in the world ... every summer, and particularly in the month of August, Edinburgh hosts the best in theatre, music, dance, books, opera and more.

Negotiating the Fringe alone can induce paralysis with the choices available - the programme is practically the size of a telephone directory - but going on insider tips, critics' choices and word-of-mouth guarantees good theatre experiences. Non-stop, all day, every day for a month if you so choose. 

In just a few days we saw brilliant stuff - plays dark, funny, touching - bowled over by the talent in writing, acting and staging taking place in seemingly every and any available bit of space in the city

(Then there was the five hours it took me to to buy tickets online for the Book Festival, as the website bust at the seams within hours of opening with the sheer volume of people eager to hear their favourite authors speak. Determination paid off, and I hooked us Simon Callow and Alexander McCall Smith amongst others).

The streets are entertainment in their own right, though. Negotiating the length of the Royal Mile, closed to traffic, is like walking through an explosion of creative energy ...

... as actors, artists, singers, magicians, acrobats and every kind of performer you can imagine take to the street, performing in whatever space they can find, to lure passers by to their shows.

Here you can expect the unexpected, and be entertained at every step

We were lucky in early August to hit days of beautiful sunshine, seeing the city (and its inhabitants) in their brightest colours, some getting their kit (but not their kilts) off ...

and away from the festival crowds there was plenty to do and see 

the Governor's House (left) and Scott Memorial (right)

in the city Hugh MacDiarmid called a 'mad god's dream' -  

Looking across Princes Street Gardens (top) and towards the National Monument and Observatory on top of Carlton Hill (bottom)

perched on rocky hills between old and new town, overlooking the sea.

Looking down towards the Firth of Forth (left); relaxing in Princes Street Gardens (right)

Blossoms and lavender outside the National Gallery, and a poster of possibly everyone's favourite Scottish painting, The Reverend Robert Walker skating on Duddingston Loch

Of course the festival was really just a convenient excuse for spending some quality time with top-favourite-Edinburgher, daughter the elder

here at breakfast at the lovely Peter's Yard, Swedish coffee house and bakery

and here visiting her cosy apartment - down a wee alley, directly off the Royal Mile, that is home-sweet-home-away-from-home for my Scottish lass who loves this city, as well she might

On our last evening, at a window table in a favourite Edinburgh restaurant,  we had a clear view to the Castle

which exploded later with fireworks for the end of the Military Tattoo

And so why not end with a spot of sentimental Scottish balladry ...
Fareweel Edinburgh, where happy we hae been, Fareweel Edinburgh, Caledonia's Queen! Auld Reekie, fare-ye-weel, and Reekie New beside,  Ye're like a chieftain grim and gray, wi' a young, bonnie bride 
(Carolina Oliphant, Baroness Nairne)

French garden inspiration

... (or more reasons to visit the Dordogne)
In the middle of the Périgord Noir, high up above the Dordogne valley on 500 acres of protected forestry, are the Jardins du Manoir d’Eyrignac 

Imagine – this manor and its gardens have been in the same family for 500 years, spanning 22 generations. 

An original castle built in the Middle Ages was burnt down in the course of wars that ravaged the Dordogne, and the present Manor house (above and below) was built in the 17^th century from its ruins ... 

including a chapel (below right) across the courtyard from the house, all built from golden Périgord stone ...

The gardens have developed through stages since the 18^th century, following successive garden-fashion trends, in Italian and later English styles. But the present gardens are the creation of Gilles Sermadiras, the father of the current descendant, who recreated them entirely 40 years ago. 

Every tree he planted then was only 20 cm high, but his vision was clear – a formal garden, combining Classical and Romantic styles, planted mainly with yew, cypress and box

There are gardens within gardens here – French, Italian Renaissance, English Romantic, a 'white garden', a potager and a meadow garden. There is topiary everywhere and lots of water features.

Arched windows clipped into hedges frame views of the countryside (above, top right) in the formal Italian garden

The Jardins d'Eyrignac are recognised as one of les plus beaux de France and are one of the top visited gardens in France. They’ve even inspired French fabric designer Pierre Frey to create a fabric called Les Jardins d’Eyrignac! You can see the Chinese pagoda, the Italian gardens and the manor house on the swatch ...

                                            Photo source: pierrefrey.com

Not far away, but very different from the formal, structured gardens of Eyrignac, are the Jardins de Cadiot, near Souillac ...

This is all the amazing work of Anne-Marie and Bernard Decottignies, who spent 30 years creating these gardens from what was two hectares of rock, sand and weed ...

It's also laid out as a series of garden 'rooms', but more creatively, with not only an English and a Tuscan garden, but also a wild rose garden, a jardin de poésie, a verger, a forest garden and a labyrinth

I loved the looser, slightly wilder feel and warm colours, very typical of the French southern countryside

Colours of the Périgord

As every French school-child probably knows, Dordogne is the 'modern' name (since 1790 as one of France's administrative départements) for the ancient county of Périgord, going way back to the Gauls.
Much more romantically, there was then a Périgord noir, vert, blanc and pourpre - areas corresponding to black oak forests and dark truffles, green meadows and hills, limestone rocks and cliffs, and wine made from the purple-red grapes around Bergerac.

The town of Sarlat-la-Canéda (above & below) is in the heart of the Périgord noir, but has the warm, honey-coloured limestone buildings and plenty of vert in its surrounds ... 

as well as the stuff of purple grapes. There's no mistaking either that you're in the heart of foie gras and truffle territory here ... 

Sarlat is built around a 9th century Benedictine abbey (above) and surrounded by fortified walls, but these days the only invaders are tourists, enjoying lunch in the sunny Place de la Liberté ...

while Sarlat's dogs take lazy charge of defending the town ...

Not far away, and on a different day of fine drizzle, we explored one of France's 'plus beaux villages', La Roque Gageac ...

Built as a stronghold during the Hundred Years War, the houses of this village, including a cave fort, are literally built into, and seem to grow out of, a steep cliff on the bank of the Dordogne river.

Walking up the super-steep roads and alleys to the top of the village has its rewards, with incredible views up to the rocky mountain face and down to the river ...

On the way there are exotic gardens - the natural protection given by the sheer cliff face behind with the open view to the front create a kind of natural solarium, a micro-climate that allows all kinds of sub-tropical and Mediterranean plants to flourish.

I wondered what one of the tinier ancient stone houses would cost here - maybe the one with the broken roof or the one with the round blue door? - and a clear view down to the river where the gabares, the Dordogne's traditional flat-bottomed cargo boats, still sail ...

Very best of all was the pleasure of meeting up with Karin of La Pouyette, over in the Périgord blanc, whose lovely old farmhouse and gardens you can see pictured on her blog. And for way more informed and beautifully photographed posts on the Périgord, do read her Plus pres du paradis, c'est ici - a claim you'll find impossible to disagree with ...

A chateau in the dordogne

The Dordogne is a part of France I'd never seen until last month, when a few days there seemed not nearly long enough.

A short train-ride from Paris on a speedy, comfortable TGV gets you to this peaceful green and pleasant land, which the broad Dordogne river snakes through, and there is seemingly a chateau, castle or abbey around every corner.

We picked up a hired car at Limoges Bénédictins gare - and I had to include the pic below, because when did you ever see such beautiful architecture for a provincial railway station?

Driving through this peaceful countryside it was hard to imagine the wars that raged here in the Middle Ages - the Hundred Years War with England, and later France's 'wars of religion'.

The farmhouses we passed had weathered centuries of war and peace ...

The Dordogne is known as 'the land of 1001 castles'. For a special reunion with friends from far away, we had the great treat of two nights in one of those castles - the gorgeous Chateau de la Treyne

... perched high up above the Dordogne river, and built like most castles in the 11th and 12th centuries on inaccessible sites with strategic viewpoints, its terrace has stunning views over the river ...

The current owners, Philippe and Stéphanie Gombert have spent the last twenty years restoring and decorating, and their passion is self-evident for this place that they see themselves as caretakers of for a tiny fraction of its history (it goes back to 1342).

Arriving early afternoon and too late for lunch, Stéphanie insisted on ducking into the kitchen to rustle up some cheese, bread, salad and wine - producing this most elegant 'picnic' lunch in about five minutes! ...

The swimming pool beckoned ...

and with Walter the friendly retriever for company ...

and these seductive gardens to explore, it was clear to me that only by a cruel twist of fate had I not been born to a chateau life and that it was going to be very hard to leave.

But there was a region entirely new to me to explore, and so I shall duly sort through my snaps and show more of this gorgeous part of France very soon on my lately neglected blog ...