Castelnau and the Pink Bridge

Day four in the Lot. After yesterday’s long haul down to the Dordogne, I rolled out of Cahors at three in the afternoon and straight across the Pont Valentré, under the arch of its middle tower, with a loop south into the hills to Castelnau-Montratier in mind and the idea of being home by sunset. The forecast was sunshine and showers, with a fresh west-north-westerly blowing across the causse.

On the far bank I stopped at the Fontaine des Chartreux, the deep green spring that once supplied Roman Cahors, and looked back at the bridge across the Lot before the real work began.

Up top the roads rolled across open farmland under a sky that couldn’t make up its mind: grey and spitting one minute, blue the next. Lalbenque, the truffle town, was the first village of note, and its Hôtel de Ville was dressed in pink ribbons for Octobre Rose, France’s month-long campaign to encourage breast-cancer screening. It turned out to be the theme of the day.

From there it was south past Montdoumerc to Belfort-du-Quercy for a short pause, then across the line into Tarn-et-Garonne. These were some of the quietest roads of the trip: by the time I got home just 88 vehicles had passed me.

The climb into Castelnau-Montratier was another Cat 4, three kilometres at just under 4% up to the hilltop town I’d been watching on the skyline. At the top stands the Église Saint-Martin, rebuilt at the end of the 19th century in a Romanesque-Byzantine style, with a dome added in the 1930s that makes it look like a little country cousin of the Sacré-Cœur. In the low evening sun it was the highlight of the ride.

I spent nearly half an hour in the town, with a coffee at Le 17, the bar-restaurant under the arcades of Place Gambetta, and the bike parked on the pavement outside. More pink hearts were scattered round the statue in the square: Octobre Rose had got here too.