Sarlat

I'm slowly moving east - I left Bordeaux at the crack of dawn this morning to take the train to Sarlat-la-Caneda. This meant a train to Perigueux, followed by switching onto a one carriage train to Sarlat. Sarlat is a medieval town (commune) which has built around an abbey. It's been off the tourist radar, but is now moving towards being accepted as a UNESCO historic centre. The main attraction is the 'old centre' which is car free and has fabulous hidden corners and alleys - and is teeming with tourists. I've heard a lot of German spoken, a few Brits, but mainly French). Lots of hot grumpy children being carried.

The main gastronomical delicacy is foie gras, followed by truffles, with wine thrown in. You can order a foie gras sandwiche, there are tasting plates with foie gras. But I didn't, I had an omelet at midday because it was the cheapest thing on the menu (I'm haemorrhaging money eating out) at the one place with a free table - and as soon as I sat down I realised why said table was free - and had to stay put until my pants dried out.

I've come to a few realisations today - ones that I have arrived at before of course, but have arisen again quite early into the trip. When I was chatting to the Canadian woman on the St Emillion tour she was incredulous that I was travelling alone - and not just that, but that every second wasn't planned. Case in point was the train journey today where I had to get to the station and use the machine to buy the ticket - 'oh my, that would be sooo stressful'...  Well, yes, it is. But I think I have martyr tendencies, and need to push the boundaries and do stuff that takes me out of my comfort zone. And then when I'm on the train, I feel inordinately glad that I was able to work it out, force myself to speak French, and ask strangers for help. It's the interacting that I enjoy too.

And arriving in new places - getting off the train or bus and standing for a few minutes to work out what to do next. The other thing is that I miss simple food - much as it seems wonderful to eat out, sometimes a quick something from the supermarket would be amazing. An egg on toast. I wander from place to place looking for something simple (and cheap) Normally I grab a pain au chocolat for breakfast, some fruit, and that does me until supper.

What I did next was walk the distance to the hotel, during which journey my suitcase wheels developed an incredible squeak which heralded my arrival  and made people smile at me and step out of my way (just sprayed expensive body oil on the wheels, that should fix it).

The medieval town is picturesque, but not so that I want to spend the next three days endlessly wandering through it, poking in stalls of food that I need a knife to enjoy (the salamis) and flicking through clothes racks of the same stuff that I saw in Bordeaux.

I came here because I wanted to get to Rocamadour and to Conques. I tried to research 'how to' at home, got nowhere, decided that there must be a way, asked at the tourisme bureau this morning, and it turns out its true! There is no way to get there except to hire a car.  Step two - ask about scooter hire (easier than a car) but no - step three find the car rental place. I was told to try two of the three in town - first was Eurocar and yes, they had a car available, a mercedes... Being cost conscious I asked for directions to the other place which I had been told was cheaper, walked in that direction, thought 'mercedes huh?', couldn't instantly see where the street was I was looking for, lost the will to live, and returned to book the car.

So that's my day tomorrow. I've been to the supermarket to get picnic provisions (really do need a knife!), and am hoping that the GPS will be a supportive friend. (Samuel, stop laughing.)