We stopped in the square for a Kir, watching the world go by and eavesdropping on a young man doing his best to convince a young damsel that his immediate intentions were honest, before allowing our stomachs to get the better of us and drawing us into the narrow streets in search of sustenance that was a cut above pizza but not quite ‘Breaking into the Piggy Bank’ expensive.
Just off the rue Montaigne we found the shapely 12th-century Lanterne des Morts, one of the many stone towers found in the centre and west of France. They were invariably pierced at the top by small openings which are said to have exhibited a light at night to indicate the position of the cemetery, in this case that at the rear of the cathedral. The lantern in Sarlat is the tallest of its kind in Europe, but, as with all such monuments, controversy surrounds their true purpose: was it truly a lighthouse, or perhaps a funerary chapel, or a celebration of the
visit of St Bernard in 1147, a time of the plague, during which he gave the sick consecrated bread to eat, which, by all accounts healed them. Either way, this is a peaceful location, and one used during the summer months for staging concerts.