Laura and Lars Travel: Something Old, Somewhere Niaux

It was our second day in the South of France, and today we were to head off to the Pyrenees, to a small town call Niaux [new] to see something very old - prehistoric cave painting at Grotte de Niaux.

This town isn't Niaux at all... It's quite old actually!

We woke early and got ready with the excited speed you would imagine with the promise of thirteen thousand-year-old art ahead.

A bus and a metro later and had train tickets in hand, and were sitting in the Paul at the station, enjoying what would soon become our new favorite breakfast - Shaud Saucisse; sausage in baguette, with mustard, and plenty of melted cheese. Good god. We saved our 'breakfast dessert' for the after boarding. I have never seen Laura so happy - sitting on a train, on the way to somewhere exciting, with a Grand Pain au Chocolat; big enough to feed a family!

Our stop was the small town of Tarascon-sur-Ariege. On the way, we were treated to the most amazing vistas. The French countryside slowly gave way to the mountains. Everywhere dotted with tiny villages, small church spires, and field after field of bright yellow rape seed. As we passed the castle adorned town of Foix we began to look at our watches. Our tour of the caves (the only one in English that day, and pre-booked a week ago) was at 1330, and we were advised to arrive at least 15 minutes prior.

I knew we would have to walk from the train station to the caves, about 4kms, but up until this point, everything had been slightly slower than predicted/researched. The bus (being Sunday) came by less frequently, the Metro was a bit lazier too, and then we had to wait for a train that went later than expected. This all put pressure on our walking time, and hence the clock watching and mental arithmetic.

Arriving in Tarascon we began our journey on foot. At this point, I was conscious of the time, but not yet completely worried. The surrounding town and its amazing beauty helped to take my mind off our deadline. As we walked we saw what makes the region so special. The cute little houses clinging to the sides of the steep hills that walled us in on all sides. The steep, irregular mountains reaching for the sky. It was a mix of Switzerland and Otago in rural France - basically all that's good in the world.

Our walk took us through a small gorge, which, contrary to Google Maps suggestion, was most definitely not suitable for walking. As we hugged the side of the road, and were forced to stop and move as far over as we could for the passing traffic, we realised that we weren't quite reaching the required 5-6km/h walking speed that would be necessary to reach our destination at the suggested '15 minutes early'.

Finally, Niaux! And high atop the cliff to our left: the caves. Only 50m away... but about 100m straight up. This meant that we had to walk through the town to the other end, before coming all the way back, and up!

We were really cutting it fine by this stage, and I could see that Laura was beginning to fade, her little legs were of course no to match for my metre long powerhouses. We turned off the main road and began our steep ascent. We dug deep. The sweat was pouring, and the drizzle failing to cool us off. Not time to admire the view, we could do that later. 1325. Almost there. 1326. We're not going to make it, but I can't tell Laura that. 1327. Argh, come on! 1328. Two minutes to spare I burst through the shop doors, hand over our ticket, and we made it, even Little Laura!

Finally, the entrance to Grotte de Niaux

Now we weren't allowed to take photos in the caves, but that somehow made it more special. What we saw was reserved purely for our memories. We descended into the black, small torches in hand, our excitement grew. We were thrown into the minds of those ancient peoples, it wasn't hard to imagine what they thought as they made their way deeper and deeper into the caves. Since 13,000 years ago is mere blink in Geologic Time, we were seeing what they were seeing; vast caverns with high irregular ceilings, stalactites (with a few extra centimetres on them now) dripping on our heads, the cool still air refusing to provide us with any warmth.

The first stop on the tour was a fenced off hole, which we were informed revealed the cave floor of 13 millennia prior. My quick maths worked out that that equal about 10cm of sediment build up every 1,000 years.

Moving on from sediment deposit rates (as interesting as I'm sure that is to the casual reader... Dad we can discuss in person). The next point of interest in the cave, apart from its staggering beauty, was through a steep and narrow hole.

We came out and immediately my torch spotted something man made; graffiti. Not ancient, but when you're reading the marking of some 17th Century dude, that's pretty cool. And yes, some of the tags were older than the Magic Date (click here for more details)

Finally through, almost two kilometres deep we reached a steep incline to a huge open expanse; the Black Cavern. We were told to turn our torches off and leave them on the ground, we then felt our way along a fence whilst our guide hoped over to the other side after taking a few scientific readings - temperature, humidity etc

The reveal was beyond words. I was genuinely speechless. The paintings consisted of bison, deer, goats. Each one rendered with impeccable detail. Far more realistic than you would ever imagine. It felt a privilege to behold such works of art. Art that is older than civilisation, older than writing, older than the wheel. Art that leaves you utterly confused, and wondering, and awe struck. Art that puts perspective on what it means to be Homo Sapien. Art by artists that you could not possible relate to, but yet are no different from. Art that makes you realise that art is possibly one of the most fundamental human instincts, and that perhaps the creation of art is in fact the meaning of it all.

You're only allowed on one leg in photos here!

After the caves it was time to knock out a quick episode of The Touring Teacher, but we needed food. Luckily for us the shop at Grotte de Niaux had a wide selection of Coca Cola and Gummy Bears, the cornerstone of any nutritious lunch.

It was getting later in the day and we figured by the time we walked back to the station it would be about time to get on a train.

However, the weather decided it wasn't on our side, and every step we took the harder the rain fell. About halfway through the gorge, with our umbrellas and rain jackets struggling to keep us dry, a car pulls over to the side of the road and with the window cracked we were beckoned over. Speaking no French, and then no English we jumped in anyway and communicated train station. During the ride we established the the Mother-Daughter-Combo were from Marseille and we're tramping in the Pyrenees.

Greatful and many "merci beaucoups" saw us out (now in the wonderful afternoon sunshine) and walking up to the station. 40minutes to the next train...

We had neglected food since breakfast... And we were ecstatic to find a small bakery still open. I ordered in French and the little old lady loved it. We brokenly asked her opinion on what we should try.

The sky became blue.

Our train ride home was a blur of croc monsieur, beignets, apple turn over, and wonderful countryside.

Arriving back in Toulouse marked dinner time. We had heard tell of a place, Le Pyrénéen, that sounded amazing and did frogs and snails, but we were underdressed... Big time. So we moved on, and for the better.

We ended up at a place called Bistro Régent Saint-Georges that had an option of gives meats with special sauce and unlimited salad and fries. For only €12 per person. It was amazing washed down with a €9 bottle of wine. I would highly recommend the steak and duck.