Just one more hand-me-down

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

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Where I stayed

Flag of France  , Aquitaine,
Monday, June 14, 2010

I could go on and on about the weather here, don't worry, I won't, but I have never seen the likes.
Today it's overcast and cool again, pray it won't rain, but yesterday and the day before were very nice days, hot sunny spells, clouds, and windy.
I sat in the garden reading all day Saturday, moving in and out of the shade. Practicing for South Africa, testing how much heat I could stand, but soon I felt dazzled and stoned - how am I ever going to get anything done there?

Yesterday we made for Sarlat, after driving round in circles in search of Beauregard de Terrasson, a little village visited many a time. All of a sudden it was not where you'd expect it to be, high up on the hills overlooking Terrasson, but somehow it had moved and was now situated above Le Lardin. (Or lee larden - pronounced as in garden - as our English electrician James Gunn insists.)

Yet again I marvel at how completely useless my sense of direction is, not just very often, but each and every time, I get it wrong. That must surely defy some law of probability. I shall keep that in mind when walking with my sisters; just 2 more weeks from now, honestly, time flies.
No where near ready - hurt my foot coming down the stairs and not being able to walk anyway in this rotten weather.
Oh well, I can be the chauffeur-cum-b&b finder. Pub tester. It'll be just fine.

Back to Beauregard, where a village festival was going on. From May till September all the villages and towns find reasons for celebrations. Fun and games, music, food, drink and dancing. Mostly including a vide - greniers (empty the attic = flea market.) A nice way of getting to interact with the locals, normally not very forthcoming, though more and more Dutch and English (second)home owners show up, hoping to make a few bob.
I never leave empty-handed but this time pickings were slim. Feeling sorry for a scruffy old woman, I bought a dirty old leather horse, ear-less, and probably originating from Morocco, and, just to take a stand against Peter, who was walking away disgusted, I purchased an absolutely filthy, tacky, cheap-looking necklace she was holding up against her scrawny neck, smiling a crafty, toothless smile, caressing it as if it were one of the crown jewels.

We left for Sarlat, expecting a better turn-out there. First we enjoyed a pleasant lunch, the restaurant's tables out in an alley in the ancient part of the city, that is so beautiful I always wonder why we don't go there more often. It is only about 40 km from Cledat but somehow feels far from our quiet little corner, being a relatively big town. But the old streets and buildings are stunning and I resolved to read up on its history.

The Sarlat vide-greniers was a dump, doing true justice to the word 'junk.' The few visitors there walked around with disinterested and slightly embarrassed looks on their faces.
Even I hadn't the heart to buy something silly just to provoke Peter. Besides, I felt sorry for him because I knew he was dying to watch some wc soccer match or other.

Back in the car, homeward bound, Matchbox 20 singing  'Hand-me-down,' I smiled at my ear-less horse and whispered: 'Don't know where you're from, but I'm taking you home now.' and I felt pretty sure we were heading in the right direction.

Maybe I do get it right sometimes.

p.s. Don't ask me how, but I lost the photos I had taken of Beauregard and Sarlat.
      To make it up to you I made the horse pose for me. If I find them, I'll get rid of him, well, his pics, that is......... promise :)

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Rui on

You really have a great imagination!!!!!!

Life will never be boring to you!

Keep sharing your way of see the world!

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