In dreams, imagination runs riot. Like a toddler left alone with paint and brush. While no one is at home, joyously creating disorder, just because it can. For no apparent reason. No good asking “Now why did you do that!” It simply doesn’t know.
Even when conscious, our mind creates disorder. We give it credit for being much smarter than it actually is. Yet it’s still a work in progress mostly. It’s never around when you really need it. It has an irritating habit of switching off without letting you know. I mean, if it told you it was going for a nap, why on earth would you start the Times Crossword, or try and remember what day it is!
Having last visited Sarlat on our very first French MOHO trip in 2017, our minds have since discombobulated our time there into a series of impressions. Savaged our memories. Ripped them up into tiny fragments. Rearranged them as a random collage of Renoir look-alikes. Making it impossible to remember the specifics. We do remember being impressed though. Will it still live up to that?
We hope this afternoon’s foray into Sarlat’s Centre Ville will bring back some memories . . .
Dating back to the 13thC it’s in fine order inside and out. The fifteen roomed house creates a viable impression of what life may have been like for those nobility fortunate to have resided here.
We walkabout some more. Search out the nooks and crannies of the cramped corners and alley-ways. Vainly hoping to recognise at least something . . .
We say goodbye to Sarlat. Leave with a new set of memories – for now. At least we were impressed.
Earlier in the day our first Scoot stop came at the stunning Water Gardens of St Rome – Carsac.
We’re joyfully greeted by a few of the residents . . .
It’s out of season so we’re given a rare treat. (No senior concessions in France) A reduced price to compensate for the lack of colour, now that bloom time is over.
