Passion in the Dordogne

I couldn't believe what I was reading on the door.

Ron and I were in Sarlat, a medieval town in the Dordogne region of France. Our B&B had been the barn of an 18th-century manor house, and we'd been welcomed by a cream-colored cat with black ears and tail, well groomed hair and brilliant blue eyes.

The room had wooden beams, antique furniture and a handmade quilt. At two in the morning, Ron was asleep after a long day of driving, while a constant chorus of croaking frogs and quacking ducks kept me awake. ("Don't you ever stop talking?" I thought to myself.)

I wandered over to the back of the door and read the practicalities. Some were in English as well as French: Breakfast served from 8 - 9:30, check-out time 10 a.m., "We are here to make your trip enjoyable," etc. The next part was only in French; I was able to translate but couldn't understand it. I walked around the room, came back and read it again. It said,

"Si vous voulez avoir la passion, s'il vous plait demander d'abord a la reception." Or, "If you want to have passion, please ask first at reception."

"OK-Dokey. Will do," I said as I passed out on the bed next to Ron.