We moved on from our visit to Saint-Robert to reach the rural heights of the village of Dampniat. We soon worked out that this was only closing off the large area of the aire on the right, with the opposite smaller side, only large enough for three motorhomes, still available for us to use.
It seemed they were in the dubious process of marking the larger area into specific individual bays, as if the French pay any heed to them when parking.
All services, including free electricity, were happily on hand, so we parked up in the corner, plugged in and relaxed with our heating blasting. It was set to drop to -2C overnight, so we were glad to have the hook-up, and at our favourite price β thanks, Dampniat. We had a stroll around the small settlements on the nearby hills before dinner, enjoying great views out over rolling countryside turned red under the setting sun.
The roads were empty the entire walk and only the odd dog barking penetrated the rural silence. But when the sun went down, it was like a heavy cloak of impenetrable blackness descended everywhere, unlike any we had seen, or more accurately not seen, in a long time.
We awoke to face a bitterly cold morning, with a light frost on the grass outside. The sky was clear of any cloud cover and held the potential for a sunny dry day, so we proceeded with our plan to finally utilise our bikes and cycle down into the nearby centre of Brive-la-Gaillarde, the main town in this region of villages. We wrapped up warm and set off, downhill through villages and forests.
