You tell me

Trip Start Jul 19, 2009
Trip End Oct 25, 2010

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Flag of France  ,
Monday, September 29, 2008

Sigh. I've just lost my new entry again. Don't ask how or why, because I don't know.
I'm tapping away happily and then all of a sudden the whole thing disappears and I'm on a different page. The thing is though, I have no draft, it's just off the top of my head and I can't conjure it up again.
Well, I'll try anyway.

I was telling you what a busy time it has been. A lot of time spent in the car, amongst other things driving my sister to the Bergerac Airport.
Poor Mieke, she really didn't want to leave and we were sad to see her go.
It's about an hour and half from here. Tiny strip, flights going back and forth to England and Holland only. To our surprise we spotted a Russian jet, CCCP on it's body.
Makes you wonder, well, me in any case.
Since we were there anyway we thought we might as well check out the town, somehow we never got round to it before.
The old center was lovely; a funny mixture of ancient, oldish and modern. It was odd but it worked. I've seen many towns and villages done up to the nines, giving you the feeling you're walking through a theme park, instead of a place where people live and work. Bergerac felt lively and exciting.
Good looking, cheeky young men, pretty, nifty girls. Good, good. Living in the country you miss them a bit. I find myself all too often in the company of  middle-aged and retired folk.
Nothing wrong with that, of course, but all in good time. Lots of farmers and farm hands, that goes without saying, but I've yet to meet a handsome one.
Probably something in the genes or maybe inbred?
I wonder, but you can hardly ask.

We had a nice lunch at the old covered market, excellent wine, but hey, this region is famous for it's wine. Afterwards we ambled on to the Dordogne, my favorite river, but it widens as it gets nearer to the sea, so now it was just a great big river.
No sandbanks to go for a swim from, the current too strong anyway. I quickly called Sheppie back before he got swept away.
Unapproachable, untouchable, it had lost it's charm. 

And so the journey continued to Limeuil, a pretty village where the rivers meet. The Vézere and the Dordogne, one earthy brown, the other sky blue. You can actually see the two colours running together without mingling for a stretch.
Here you can sit by the river, under the old trees, watch how the swans gracefully drift, see the sun catch the ripples on the water.
Sip the local wine, taste  the fruity aperitifs, close your eyes for a moment and you'll think your in paradise.

We  maded our way home passing through Le Bugue, St. Léon sur Vézere, La Roque St. Christophe and Montignac.
All these places are wonderful, little gems of the Perigord.
In and amongst you'll find the caves of Lascaux, countless castles and other treasures.
People come from all over the world to marvel.
I must tell you about them sometime.
Funny thing is, that though I live just round the corner, on the doorstep of these renowned sights in fact, I have not yet visited any of them.
That's not because I'm not interested, don't get me wrong, no, it's because I feel I've got all the time in the world to do so. Forever looking forward to it.

So don't be surprised if you get there before I do
and then you tell me......ok?
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