Dizzy in the Dordogne

Call me Thunder Thighs. I have climbed up and down so many staircases,  hilly paths and roads, that all my muscles are calling for attention.
 We have reached the well-preserved medieval town of Sarlat, after a very twisty ride on the narrow country roads of the Dordogne area.  GPS (hereto known as Peggy Sue) masterfully guided us into town.  It was all so easy, until we realized that we were going around and around Sarlat never  reaching our hotel. There is a nightmarish quality to this situation.  In desperation, we parked and found a gentle spirit in the Town Hall who gave us directions. No wonder Peggy Sue was stuck.  Our hotel is buried deep in a so-called street, down which no car has ever rolled . Getting our bags into this sanctuary took some imagination, but we made it and have had dinner. It is warm enought to eat outdoors, which is a treat for all Victorians.  While we dined, we were serenaded by a French wench dressed in period costume, incongruously singing Edith Piaf songs.
We have a knack for getting food we didn't order.  I asked for a strawberry frappe, only to be told that there was only raspberry (the very flavour of ice cream that I really don't care for), so I changed it to a chocolate frappe.  Our meal arrived - for me- a raspberry frappe and a hot chocolate drink!
Tomorrow, we will get up early and drive out to the beautiful Dordogne valley -there is a wealth of chateaux, and Stone Age caves to explore in the area.