|My window view|
Panning left to right
Panning from my windows last evening in Sarlat, the views were like this, actually clearing nicely after a drizzly day.
I stayed up late last night, trying to get that post up, so had to wake up early this a.m. to pack for leaving Sarlat. Too early. I packed fast. Wish I'd learned before I went down for breakfast that it was available before 7:30. I finally remembered to take pictures there. We were getting on the bus at 8:00.
Today (maybe for Sundays?) they had giant, fresh croissants, in place of the tiny, flake-free croissants we'd been having all week.
As an aside, I have a book on my Kindle, Caves of the Périgord, that Jeanne had recommended before the trip but I hadn't gotten to. I started it a few days ago, but got back to it this a.m. (after packing) and decided it's going to be so much more fun to read now that I have a picture of the places in my mind.
Planned to do more reading on the bus, but pretty much fell asleep instead. I thought I could snooze most of the day, having forgotten our midday walking tour of St. Émilion. We arrived with bursting bladders, having passed several closed rest stops, giving rise to the discreet inquiry, don't the French have to pee on Sunday?
It was a pretty vigorous walking tour. St. Émilion, also on the Dordogne, had a lot of history involving the 100 Years' War, fortifications have come and gone and the jurisdiction is made up primarily of vineyards now.
|St Émilion. That looks like a postcard view.|
|The underground unique monolithic church, carved out of solid rock; |
two of the three window arches are visible toward the right. No photos allowed inside.
It was after six when we arrived in Saint Jean de Luz. Our hotel, with its delicious view, is not accessible by bus. Carlos gave us a lovely little goodbye speech in French.
Even though he couldn't understand our incomprehensible English chattering, he sat patiently with us through several meals, with our giving back only a smattering of our, while not in-ept but a bit short of ept, efforts to converse in French. So 18 of us wheeled off towing our luggage several blocks to the hotel. Quite a sight to behold, but too busy towing to take pictures.