Swimming in Bergerac
The place where we live is quite close to the Dropt River, a tranquil river that spends eleven months of the year flowing quietly onward, as happy holidaymakers amble along its banks, artists paint pictures of ancient mills, and children play pooh-sticks on the bridges.
But then, each winter for a couple of weeks, everything changes. The rain falls, the Dropt floods its banks and turns into a raging torrent, and the surrounding countryside becomes as muddy as a First World War battlefield. Anyone brave enough to play pooh sticks could be horribly impaled by the stick being hurled like a bullet from the other side of the bridge.
This curious change in conditions, incidentally, also accounts for the unspoiled appeal of the region. The soil here is a layer of good, fertile soil, but with a layer of solid clay about 30 centimetres under the surface. The clay stops the rain soaking away, so after heavy rain the whole surface acts as a great big saturated sponge.
Consequence? For centuries it was impossible to make proper roads in the region, because they became impassable each winter. Hence no industry could develop, except agriculture.
One other curious side-effect of these conditions is that when you go in our slightly sloping field after heavy rain, the whole field makes the noise of a babbling brook, as water flows across the surface of the clay, just beneath the surface. Very disconcerting to walk around on, I can tell you.
Incidentally I only recently understood the need for the several plantations of poplar trees near us. I’d heard speculation about what the trees could be used for – everything from matchsticks to power-station fuel was suggested. The correct explanation is that poplar trees are one of the best trees to cope with flooding, and at absorbing the excess water in the soil. So they are planted in the flood-plain areas to help control the flooding.
Anyway, today Mrs B set off for Bergerac with younger daughter and was surprised to find that almost the entire (sloping) car park was under water. She parked nervously in the upper reaches of the car park, water lapping at the wheels, but changed her mind after five minutes and moved the car to higher ground – apparently small daughter didn’t much relish the idea of swimming back to the car a couple of hours later.
This may or may not be due be due to the barrage on the Dordogne collapsing last year. Only a week earlier we’d been admiring the boats moored at the edges and the carefully designed fish-ladder (a fish-ladder allows salmon etc to get past the barrier). After the barrier collapsed the boats were suspended in a void from their moorings, and the fish no longer needed a ladder.
Good news is, according to the forecast the rain has now finished and tomorrow will be the first day of spring. Best go dust off the bike.
I am seriously thinking of buying a house the banks of the Dropt. Do you have any idea of the river level rise and/or where I can get more information.
Thanks
BL
Where we are, near Villereal, the Dropt floods a couple of times a year. To be fair, I don’t know of any houses that are inhabited and get flooded – presumably they haven’t been built in potential flooding areas.
But I do know houses that regularly have water pretty close to their doors, that I wouldn’t personally buy in case one year the river rises that extra 25 centimetres.
Other parts of the Dropt might be different – for example at Eymet I have no idea if the river floods or not – so I suppose it means interrogating the current owners and neighbours.
I would think the maire of the commune where you are looking would be best placed to advise you, or perhaps the notaire would have some local knowledge. I would certainly ‘proceed with caution’!