St Émilion to Storybook Sarlat

6 April 2011

St Émilion to Storybook Sarlat

The village of St Émilion was pretty sleepy when we woke up that morning. The sun was already shining in the blue sky. I had been hoping to start my day with a fresh buttery croissant but believe it or not, we could not find a bakery that was open. This was a slightly shocking concept in France. The only shop we discovered open was the bakery where we’d had macaron cookies the day before. They didn’t have any croissants, just sweets, but they did have espresso. We ate our breakfast on a bench outside some of the town’s medieval ruins.

This sugary breakfast was the perfect fuel for a morning run. Mike and I changed into our running gear and this time set out on foot to explore the wine country. It was a gorgeous run through the wide open country. The smell of grass and lilac was ever present. We could see the vineyard workers out tending to their grape vines. For just over eight miles we ran up and down the winding country roads. The French drivers were extremely courteous to runners, which is a pleasant change from the aggressive drivers I’m used to in the US. Hot and sweaty, we made a stop off at a church with a water spicket outside and then headed back to the village to be able to check-out of the hotel in time.

By the time we showered and returned our bicycles it was time to eat lunch before we left the beautiful sunny village of Saint Émilion. In one of the main squares in town we found a 3 course menu for €14. My started was toast with roasted eggplant and warm goat cheese, after that there was salmon with vegetables and then a crepe with sugar for dessert all of this washed down with some cool, dry white wine. After lunch we stopped in the shop across the street to purchase some wine. The handsome man told us about half a dozen wines in his thick French accent. We tasted each one, starting with the cheapest for about €10 and ending at around €70. We each chose a bottle of red to take home as souvenir and another to bring to Alain and Catherine who we’d be visiting tomorrow in Brittany.

Around one o’clock it was time to walk the mile from the village to the train station and see about getting back towards Bordeaux. As we approached the train station we passed a bunch of people who appeared to be entering town from the station. I had a bad feeling that once again we had missed our train out of town. When we read over the train schedule, we confirmed that this was true. The next trains out of town in either direction were not for another two to four hours. It was a frustrating set-back in time especially after lugging our ever-expanding bags and now three heavy bottles of wine. Mike graciously volunteered to camp out at the station with the bags so I could stroll around town unencumbered.

I had a little more than an hour to explore St Émilion by myself. I spent most of that time playing with my camera, snapping shots of wisteria vines, colorful old doors, and winding alleyways. I also had a delicious cone of cassis sorbet from a market selling sweets as well as grape vines. From a jolly man at an outside stand, I bought a small can of foie gras to bring home. I also found some beautiful and colorful scarves from Provence in a quaint shop with a friendly and smiling storeowner. She informed me that the weather is not always this summer-like and glorious in St Émilion at this time of year. We were lucky that it wasn’t wet and gray.

When I returned to the station, Mike had come up with an exit plan for us. Either we could wait another hour and return to Bordeaux and from there, figure out a train ride to Brittany, or we could head further eastwards and explore another town. He had read about a town called Sarlat which is in the Dordogne region of France. The book described this medieval town as beautiful and storybook-like. It also claimed that it is the most filmed town in all of France. It sounded worth visiting to me and the train to Sarlat would be passing through in about 20 minutes.

To get to Sarlat we had first take the train to a town called Le Buisson. To get there, we rode through some beautiful countryside. We passed old stone farmhouses set on rivers as well as quaint lakeside towns and chateaux. In Le Buisson the train stopped and we had to board a bus to go any further. The bus ride proved to be even more beautiful as we got a closer look at these lovely little villages. We passed through one amazing little town set across from a peaceful and still lake. It was a tiny little village that clung to a cliff side. At the top of the village was a perfectly preserved medieval castle. We would have gotten off the bus and stayed there for the night, but by the time we actually realized what a gem of a town it was, the bus had already blown past the stop.

Twenty minutes later we arrived in Sarlat. The sun was low in the sky and all of the buildings were painted a rosy hue. It was about a one mile walk from the station to go downhill to the old city. We stopped at one of the first hotels we found, a cozy little two-star hotel just outside of the medieval walled city. For €50 we got a spacious room and felt like we had the whole hotel to ourselves. It was already about 7 o’clock at night by that time and we knew we only had about an hour and a half to explore before the sun went down.

I can see why Sarlat is used as a movie set. It is a beautiful medieval town with hundreds of narrow alleys that crisscross and wind through the town. Hidden in these alleys one could find restaurants, boutiques, hotels and historic sites. In one alley, we found a cat and a dog sitting on stonewall basking in the sun together. Behind the cat was a bright yellow flowering bush, the wall behind was purple with wisteria. We had most of those little alleys to ourselves. These little alleys would sometimes open up suddenly into open, sunny plazas. One plaza had a statue of geese in the middle and I later learned that Sarlat is known for geese and has a celebration there every year where one can eat all kinds of delicious goose products. I felt grateful to be there during the off season as the travel guide said it was difficult to even enjoy the town with the hoards of summer tourists descended en masse.

I think we explored almost every corner of the old walled city that evening even a public garden. My stomach was grumbling as it started to get dark out now and so we stopped to pick a restaurant in one of the alleys which was busy with café tables outside. With the sun down, it was a bit chilly for outdoor seating. We took a table at a restaurant with orange table clothes. The service was slow but I enjoyed my meal. I had foie gras with toast, then a delicious duck cassoulet and finally a rich brownie-like cake made with good European dark chocolate. As we walked the few minutes back to our hotel, we barely passed another person on the street. We were ready to go to bed early for a 7am train to take us northwest to Brittany.