I’m coming to the end of a five day break, during which I was supposed to be extremely hardworking studywise. I did study a bit. But not so much. I’ve just spent the last couple of hours finishing off some stories about a trip I took to France five years ago. The last piece I just I just uploaded was this one, about Sarlat. I think it was that day, walking to Castelnaud, that I realised my stubborness was not an endearing trait or anything to be proud of, but more likely something that would lead to my own demise.
Here are some of the photos from the parts of the trip that I have finished writing about…
La Basilique du Sacré de Montmartre – One of the places I didn’t get to go to, the first time I went to Paris.
When you get bored of sightseeing, you can always count on the antics of other tourists to keep you amused.
The Louvre. I spent a good hour blissing away my jetlag, people-watching here.
Notre Dame, my favourite church. I know it is kind of odd for an atheist to have a favourite church, but I do and this is it.
Checking out the islands at Saint Malo. I walked out there because the tide was out, but I had to run all the way back because when the tide came in, it came in real quick.
I only went to Saint Malo because I thought it would be cheaper to stay there and go to Le Mont-Saint-Michel as a day trip… yep, I was penny pinching. I’m glad it was necessary because Sant Malo was great. Although I accidently order sea snails for dinner when I was aiming for mussels. I didn’t know what to do because the owner had been so excited that I’d ordered them and she was hovering about the table looking at me expectantly waiting for my exclamations of joy… so I ordered a bottle of rosé, downed two glasses and (a tad sloshed) tucked in.
Mont-Saint-Michel. Medieval with fortifications… ’nuff said.
A cool shadow and lunch at Mont-St-Michel. I finally got the mussels I had meant to order the night before!
Angers. Home of a cool castle and Cointreau.
Saumur on the Loire.
Fontevraud. The final resting place of Richard Lionheart and his amazing (and notorious) mother, Eleanor of Aquitaine.
Castelnaud, Dordogne Valley, Perigord. I was set on walking there, despite the warnings of the well-meaning hotel staff. I almost became very wet, muddy roadkill because of this walk. But I learnt a very important lesson in the process. If one must traipse 20 km in mud and rain, make sure one is armed with pain au chocolat, gift of the gods. And end the day with creme brulee.
Lovely lovely Sarlat.
Streets like these are one of the many many things I love about Europe.
Now, I believe it is about time I did some more study. Although it pains me. Jinan has turned extremely toasty in just a matter of days. It has been over 30 two days in a row.