If Carlsberg did airlines , they wouldn’t do Ryan Air . Despite its impressive attempt to put a dampner on things , we arrived . A little miffed . A trifle knackered …. but we arrived .
My first attempt to put into practice my rusty French language skills was less than glowing . The hire car lady was not really the ideal subject for my stuttering efforts . I don’t think she would have been that interested in my statement that’ I live in the centre of England’ or , Indeed , that ‘ I enjoy tennis and have a small dog ‘. Best I could muster was ‘ can we claim the money back ? ‘. She replied , of course , in English and snappily at that . Well .. it was hot .
Sarlat is spectacularly beautiful . It’s almost perfect . Medieval walls line picture perfect nooks and crannies – all bursting with happy chatter and civilised bustle . There’s no litter . Seriously! not a crisp packet in sight . Whereas we in the UK bulldoze the old and gradually wipe away our heritage , the French , of at least the good Burghers of Sarlat , protect and preserve its past . Progress is not betting shops or charity outlets – it includes retaining the best of what went before .
I sat for over an hour just people watching. Streams and streams of smart , savvy people – heads held high and strong .
So.. more exploring tomorrow – with the help of a bicycle . I’m even hoping I can get one with a basket to put my croissants in .
This really is the life .