where art collides

A refreshing night’s sleep although recovery is going to take a few days. I feel more able to take on the world today, in a limited way obvs. My brain is still in lowish gear. Just toast for breakfast. Although I bought the gubbins I can’t yet face a full English.

I’ve switched the mac mini off at the wall. Am hoping that will help. Last time I saw this problem I sent it off to apple and it came back fully working but they said they hadn’t had to do anything to it. 

The lawn is wet and about six inches deep. Need to see if I can get the mower working. THG didn’t manage it whilst I was away. It probs needs servicing but tbh it is equally likely to be consigned to the great mower graveyard in the sky, or wherever great mower graveyards are. We’ve had it for twenty five years and it is falling apart.Holes everywhere and the handle kept together with a bit of wood tied on with string.

The panel heater is now on in the shed, eighteen degrees. Just to take the edge off things. The beginning of the slide into winter and hibernation. Hibernation could be a good thing apart from the fact that it probably wouldn’t extend my time on the planet. That time sleeping would be time wasted. Mind you sleep is very much on the agenda for much of this week 🙂

You do wonder how people of yore going on the European Grand Tour managed to survive its rigours. They probably weren’t full on drinking and watching rugby every night.

There will be time enough to reflect on the past six weeks’ festivities. Suffice to say it was an amazing trip which shall long stay in the collective memory of all who took part.

I’ve unpacked the car including all the booze. A modest haul. Not totes counted it but includes three cognacs, an armagnac, two calvados, a couple of bots of pommeau, two aperitifs from provence plus two rose from same area, a mix of seven reds of various qualities from Cahors, four other miscellaneous reds purchaysed somewhere en route and a solitary bottle of champagne. There are also numerous cidres from Normandie and a prosecco of unknown providence that slipped in somehow when I wasn’t looking. There is also a case of lager that was not consumed at the manoir which will do for a party sometime.

The rest is mostly dirty laundry and memories. I did buy a replica screaming eagles badge and a clicker from the Airborne Museum in St Mere Eglise and a le Mans poster from Antibes.

What sticks in the memory?

Lots of good stuff. Most hotels we stayed in were great, being very well researched in advance. Only non five star I’d say was the Hotel des Augustins in Aix which was very well positioned and we had a great room with the terrace but the breakfast was poor – the staff didn’t seem to be bothered.

Breakfasts, all be they continental obvs, were generally good but great at the Hotel du Chateau in Carcassonne and Un Hotel en Ville in La Rochelle where I stayed twice, on the way down and then on the way back up.

The restaurant in Bordeaux, Le Bistro du Sommelier was great and conveniently next door to the Mary Hotel where we were staying. I’m struggling to remember all the restaurants. The pre match lunch with Dave and Cecile at Charlot 1er in Cagnes Sur Mer was particularly good. We also enjoyed the dinner at Chateau De Creissels en route to Manoir Des Sines.

The Manoir had a real wow factor. Best place any of us had ever stayed at. Five kilometres outside Montaigu de Quercy, itself in the middle of nowhere, it was a remote self contained haven surrounded by fields of sunflowers. We had jaunts to nearby small towns and villages, all seemingly built on hilltops with either castles or churches surveying the countryside around, ate out once and had our own private chef in one evening. The chef, Brooke’s assistant was the daughter of Windsor Davies who my dad had known at Bangor Normal College when he did teacher training over sixty years ago and whose best man, Pete Clarke was also dad’s best man. Small world.

The campsite near Nice did the job but it must said that the chalet was a very poor cousin to the hotel accommodation we had got used to. Lots of insects as well.

Car park height restrictions in city centres that were a real issue for the Defender, particularly in Toulouse but also Avignon. City centre parking is generally a pain in the arse. Same the whole word over I guess but particularly so in France where they all drive small cars that are expected to be bashed.

The Defender was a great car to take on the expedition and came in particularly handy when Waze took me down a farm track to a field about half a mile from Gold Beach. I should have sensed something was wrong but each farm track seemed to have a road name that somehow legitimised the directions. The track was v narrow and I turned around in the field itself. No crops were damaged. Waze defo had weaknesses in France.

France is a huge country. Including the start in Ireland we did 3,443.2 miles. Most places were a long drive apart. A looong road trip. The countryside was as fantastic as it was varied. Very rural. Very varied. Mountains and flatlands particularly in the Vendee. Some of it looked very British and some distinctly French. It seemed to be far more enjoyable to drive around than the UK. Not much in the way of services though. They expect you to pull off the Autoroute and into a village although there are some well stocked Aires.

There were lots of laughs. I’m thinking particularly of the time when I had a fruitless conversation with a taxi firm which turned out to be a recorded message. Then there was the occasion where Ajax had identified a restaurant for lunch that was less than a minute walk away. We settle the bill for the drinks and set off. Turned out it was the restaurant we had already been sitting in!

By the time we made it to Nantes for the last weekend of rugby there were only four of us left and we were starting to show signs of wear and tear. We all looked forward to days of quiet nights in without having to drink French lager. 

Also in my case six weeks, five in France, away from home eating out a fair bit and partying left me longing for some British food, especially breakfast. My first stop on reaching Lincoln this morning was Fosters Butchers where some bacon and spicy Lincolnshire sausages were purchased. My intention had been to have beans on toast with bacon and sausages tonight but I’ve shifted that to breakfast and am instead having a Charlie Bigham’s chicken madras.

One high point was meeting Wales rugby captain Jac Morgan’s mam and dad in the bar of the Hotel du Chateau in Carcassonne (great hotel) as was bumping into an ex pat from Solva in West Wales who knew Meic Stevens. It was very nice to be able to spend time talking Welsh in Nantes. I also met someone who knew our friend @Eirian from Caernarfon.

I guess finishing off following in the footsteps of Easy Company in the countryside around Utah Beach was a great way to end the trip. Very poignant. I will almost certainly return someday to the hotel, Domaine Utah Beach – Le Grand Hard with THG. Perhaps next summer after the Paris Olympics trip. 

Anyway it’s good to be home. Curry, good soak in the bath and early to bed. 

Ciao amigos.

Extremely comfortable duvet and pillows last night but did wake up from time to time. The room was very dark and the LED on the TV made no impact. I heard a dog barking and decided to pop out onto the deck. I figured it must be a very dark night.

Nothing could be further from the truth. Although a shaft of light came through the hotel reception window the gardens were well lit by the amazing star filled skies above. It was five fifteen. I took a pic which ain’t bad but doesn’t do justice to the actual sky. One of the best starry skies I’ve seen. The chilly night air sent me back into the room.

Shortly afterwards the birds started up. Way too early for me to think about getting out of bed. Showered at eight and breakfast at eight thirty. As with last night it was easy to find my table as it was the only one laid with one place setting. The others in the breakfast room, as you might imagine, were the same diners as last night.

I have a conference call at nine thirty and checkout is at eleven. I endorse the Domaine Utah Beach – Le Grand Hard hotel. Worth a visit. It’s slap bang in the middle of all the Easy Company action which is what I am going to do this morning. Manoir de Brecourt and the battery storming, Easy Company CP, Dick Winters Memorial, 101 Airborne Museum, Carentan, Saint Mere Eglise. But you know this 🙂

…

Tired. Checked in for the ferry about seven thirty. Bear in mind it doesn’t leave until eleven. Left the hotel at ten thirty and spent the whole day sightseeing. The first bit was fine – following in the footsteps of Easy Company although you could only look from afar at the gun emplacements at Manoir de Brecourt as it was off the road on private property.

It was very easy to imagine the fierce fighting going on from hedge to hedge. They fit exactly the description in the books.

The guy at reception at the hotel had recommended a Wine Seller in Carentan. Turned out it was actually called that although it did also have a French name which now escapes me as I didn’t think to write it down.

Had a nice chat with the owner and ended up buying a box full of his finest. A twenty year old calvados, two different bots of pommeau, a couple of bottles of plonk and a champagne. As a result I didn’t feel the need to stop at a supermarket en route to the port.

After Carentan I stopped by the American Cemetery. Arrived just as they were lowering the flag accompanied by the last post. The sheer number of graves is mind blowing. Really brings home what happened during the D Day invasion.

The rest of the tour was pretty nondescript really except perhaps the ruins of the Mulberry Harbour at Arromanches. The seafront at Sword and Juno Beaches was pedestrianised so you had to park up and walk which did involve the assumption that there would be something there to see when you got there.

These beaches seem to be built up with houses and apartments. Lovely beaches and their use for pleasure today is a far cry from the days of World War Two. 

It must be said that Waze has not distinguished itself on this trip. Today instead of Gold Beach it took me down a farm track that ended up in a field of maize and sunflowers. It’s only because I have a LAnd Rover Defender I was able to turn around by driving through a muddy patch and doing a three point turn on the edge of the field itself. Then en route to Sword Beach it took me into a caravan park. I quite enjoyed the offroad bit but the caravan park became tedious. Waze was also unaware of road closures and seem to consider narrow back alleys as suitable means around them when i took a diversion. Huh…

Some cars are being asked to go through security check. They don’t appear to be asking me. Or maybe they’ve got priority boarding. Didn’t think it was worth the extra hundred and twenty quid. Was only around fifteen coming from Dublin. They are mostly expensive jags so that must be it as they haven’t moved since being let through the barrier.

Bit of a NOB just pulled up to the right of me. At least that’s what his number plate says. XXX NOB.

I must say I am looking forward to getting home for a number of reasons. One is a cuddle off THG obvs. Another is getting back to a normal routine of eating and not drinking and finally I have attempted to avoid the use of the English language wherever possible on this trip. Sometimes the local waiter has been irritating by giving me an English language menu and addressing me in English but most of the time I’ve been able to stick to French. This has been really hard work as I’ve had to actually use my brain 🙂Thought I’d given up on that yonks ago. My vocab needs expanding.

Looks as if the lorries are all being given thorough security searches. The lads said they had the same in their MoHo last night. Apaz some people were found hidden in the garage compartments of some of the MoHos in front of them.

I quite like being at a sea port late at night and early morning. There is a certain smell to it. The sea air. Thissun’s a bit noisy as a lot of the lorries seem to want to keep their engines running. Norrubs.

MoHo searches have started. Dogs are out.

Picked up the Defender from Cecile’s mum’s house where it had been parked for the weekend, dropped Si off at Ajax n Jezzer’s campsite and set the guidance computer for the Cotentin Peninsula. Staying at Domaine Utah Beach – Le Grand Hard. V nice spot to finish off the holiday.

Palatial room (with private terrace natch) was ready for me when I arrived at two pm and I had time to chill and to rearrange the packing of the car before the lads arrived an hour later. Six weeks into the trip the car did need a bit of tidying up. The dirty washing bag is rammed full now and there was room in my duffel bag to stick some loose things (bottles) in out of the way.

I’m here for one night before catching the ferry. This is partly so that I can spend some time doing the D Day sights and partly cos THG herself won’t be home until Wednesday lunchtime. I have a conf call after breakfast tomorrow and will then mosey along to see the sights.

This afternoon we managed to squeeze in Utah Beach, Omaha Beach and Pointe du Hoc in that order. Hadn’t quite realised how far apart they were. Took a good thirty mins or more to get from one beach to another.

It was all very poignant. You could imagine the sea filled with landing craft and soldiers running ashore with bullets and bombs flying everywhere. It’s only as I’ve got older I’ve been able to appreciate the enormity of the achievement on that day and the bravery of those involved.

There were women sunbathing on Utah. What a contrast between now and 6th June 1944 I thought. A battle was raging all around where I am staying. I am motivated to visit some of the Band of Brothers sites. Brecourt Manoir is very near here as is Sainte Mere Eglise, Sainte Marie du Monte and Carentan. I’m going to visit them all and will use any spare time left to visit the American Cemetery and the Museum in Caen.

My boat is not until eleven pm so I reckon I need to be there around nine which gives me plenty of time to find a Carrefour or similar and stock up on some last min delicacies Francaise. Bit of fromage, vin, Normandy butter, that sort of thing.

Ciao

…

Dinner was good. On my bill but didn’t detract from the experience. There was one table laid with just one setting so obviously mine! The restaurant was full of couples. Some male/female but a lot of blokes clearly there for the DDay thing. I overheard a Dutch guy next to me saying “Dick Winters” and someone else on another table saying they were moving on to Bastogne on Thursday. If you know you know. I’ll be following the Easy Company trail tomorrow.

Now back in my room with a cognac. 4 Euros. What’s not to like?

Somewhat of a marathon day of rugby yesterday. We never made it as far as the bar of the previous day. Met Ajax in Gibb’s Irish Bar opposite the Cathedral. It emptied out quite quickly as the Welsh fans exited to go to the match and we had the pick of the seats. Only real problem was that the aircon wasn’t working and the only window that opened was the big one near the entrance. Too hot man. I nipped out at half time and purchased an Irish rugby tee from Le Comptoir Irlandais just around the corner.

After watching the Mighty Wales slay the Georgian dragon we moved nearer the door to where there was a draught to be caught, which is where we watched England just about beat Samoa. Then the Welsh fans returned from their game and the bar quickly got rammed. Not for the faint hearted, a full pub during a rugby match. I was ok, perched as I was on a stool at a table just off the main thoroughfare to the bar. 

We moved on to Cafe St Pierre, just across the square, for the Ireland v Scotland game. Far more pleasant conditions. 

We spent perhaps ten hours sitting in a pub yesterday. Must have talked about something but I’m blowed if I can remember what. The stop for the number C1 bus was just outside the Irish bar so the trip home was quick and comfortable.

Japan v Argentina today. We have tickets.

Bit of a lie in this morning after a late one last night at Le Fleur du Malts watching the French wallop Italy. Made some local friends and will return there today for more sport. A table has been reserved and lager is 4.50 Euros a pint.

It did get a bit messy towards the end as the shots started to come out and indeed some of the touring party are struggling this morning. I’m alright though Jack. Just need to nip out to Carrefour down the road for some milk and loo paper. Simples.

Was another hot day yesterday, spent looking at the tourist sights, mostly from the outside. The cathedral was closed so we sat outside an Irish bar called Gigg’s drinking coffee and looking at the outside of the big church.

Then we walked to the Chateau des Ducs de Bretagne and walked the ramparts. It was nine Euros to go inside the museum so we gave it a miss and found a restaurant called Le Bo Vins for a spot of lunch. Many eateries had stopped serving by the time we got there. Two thirty.

After that I explored another Irish Bar called Bradys which the taxi driver on the first night had recommended but our experience of it was poorly kept expensive beer and so we moved on.

That, is all I care to remember of yesterday 🙂

…

Public transport is free in Nantes at weekends. No more fiddling trying to get rid of loose change.

Only took me about five minutes to “do” the German Submarine Base at Saint Nazaire. Interesting enough to see but not much on display. Looking at the pens you could imagine the activity levels there during WW2.

Mosied further along the seafront. A very pleasant place to while away a couple of hours before setting off to pick Simon up from Nantes Airport. Not many folk around and a hot sunny day. It was difficult to picture the place full of occupying troops. Lovely small beaches.

Was quite glad that Waze did not take me back over the bridge across the Loire. It was a seriously squeaky bum moment driving over it from Noirmoutier. Probs the highest bridge if ever driven over. Had to stay totally focussed on the car in front and not look to either side.

The pickup was seamless enough albeit the flight was somewhat delayed and we got to Cecile’s mum’s place in about 25 mins. It was nice to see her after perhaps thirty years. Her house is very close to a train station but it was a 45 min wait until the next one so we Ubered it in. The AirBnB is fine, does the job anyway and we headed out into the night.

Touristy stuff today.

Slept for knocking on twelve hours last night. In bed before seven thirty! Catches up on you doesn’t it?

As a result I awoke reasonably refreshed this morning and am now sat outside on my terrace glancing occasionally up at the white walls of the turreted chateau under whose walls the hotel nestles.

I can thoroughly recommend the Hotel Le General D’Elbee. Extreme comfort. Really requires a few of you to stay, or at least a couple, to enjoy the bar and lounge, the latter of which really pushes the levels of style and comfort you would see in any hotel. Sounds of Noirmoutier waking up although I can’t see beyond the walls of the hotel. 

Drove here yesterday afternoon from Les Sables, really just a large beach resort but with an interesting old bit of harbour with Priory Saint Nicolas, which was closed. The main point of the place is that it is the start and finishing line of the Vendee Globe Challenge. You couldn’t help but think of adventure on the high seas when walking along the quayside towards the open waters beyond.

The Vendee is really flat and quite uninteresting. The approach to Noirmoutier reminded me of Cape Cod. Lots of sand dunes and pine trees. Came across some salt pans but everything was closed. Did give me the opportunity to take the defender off road along some narrow dirt tracks to get there 🙂

Picking Si up from Nantes airport this pm and figured I’d stop by the German Submarine Base museum in St Nazaire en route. More as it happens…

A light breeze wafts over Camping du Lac de Saint Pardoux carrying a freshness that signals a ten degree drop in the temperature forecast for the day. The prospect is as refreshing as the breeze itself.

It is still warm enough to sit out on the deck. The bushes that separate the “Premium” chalet from the lake are rustling and there is movement on the surface of the water that was not present yesterday. As I write the dawn has arrived and the birds are chattering.

Ordinarily I might look up Saint Pardoux but on this occasion my levels of curiosity are very low to negligible so I’ll leave it to you if you so choose. Something to do with the lake?

During our stint here in France we noticed a few Aires, roadside services and parking spots, named after saints. An ignominious memorial if ever there was one. The further south we ventured the fewer such Aires we saw. Not sure what that tells us.

Yesterday the three remaining tourists visited the Oradure Sur Glane memorial village. The site of a massacre during the second world war. Nazis striking out as their war entered its final phase. I was a reluctant visitor but the others wanted to go and I guess I am glad I went. The ruined village, left wrecked as it was after the atrocity, really was a reminder of the horror of war. I felt uncomfortable walking around.

The heat of the day, in the thirties, took its toll and we moved on to the campsite, the pool and the lake. We had an early meal, ably cooked by Ajax on his teppanyaki grill and early to bed. A month or more of rugby touring starting to have an effect.

This post, written by the side of the lake, will probably have been uploaded in La Rochelle. There is next to no connectivity here although I did manage to book a hotel for the Tuesday night and the Caen to Portsmouth ferry next week.

Tonight I return to Hotel en Ville where THG and I stayed on our way down. Being later in the season it is half the previous price and a bargain considering you were served up one of the best breakfasts of the trip.

Funny that the current temperature of seventeen degrees I still consider to be t shirt territory. Half thought about digging out my fleece but that would involve walking the twenty metres to the car:)

At twenty past eight there is no visible movement around the campsite. Ajax got up when I made the tea but then went back to bed and no sign of Jezzer. This very much feels like the actual overdue approach to the end of summer and the onset of an autumn that I know is already well under way at home. However the temperature is set to climb back to the mid twenties by the weekend. Do the French have the concept of Indian Summers?

There are two things I am very much looking forward to when I get home, three if you count seeing THG again (which I do obvs). Our party has been posting pics of them eating fish and chips and walking their dogs, unseen for weeks. Mine will be a proper British takeaway curry on the Wednesday night followed by a cooked breakfast on the Thursday. Fosters back bacon and spicy farmhouse sausage.

I am also quite looking forward to getting on with some work. Whilst I have been doing the odd bit in France the busy season is fast approaching. It’s already there really.

Ma belly is full. Sat here in my room at Hotel Europe, window open to let in a breeze that lulls us into a false sense of security as the temperature today is set to hit the thirties.

We found a good bar last night. PQP. Good beer and a big screen for the rugby. In between matches we popped along to the Kashmiri restaurant for onion bhaji and lamb madras. I guess for France it wasn’t bad but wouldn’t really give it more than six out of ten.

Left the boys to it and wandered back to the hotel. Only a short walk from all the action and has a pool and a secure car park. The latter is v handy but not sure I’ll use the pool despite the warm day ahead. See how it goes.

Definite signs of autumn driving down the back lane into the village this morning. The occasional brown leaf appearing and undergrowth starting to die back in the hedgerows. The harvest seems also to be pretty much over around the Manoir.  I like the good feeling that comes with the ease into autumn. Still very much a warm sunny day in prospect though and the pool will very much be on the agenda.

Went into Montaigu this morning really just to buy milk for breakfast. THG then requested fruit and a variety of other bread based requests came in via whatsapp. Sfine. Only problem was I was there half an hour before InterMarche opened! Everything else could be procured in artisanal and organic shops on the main street but not the milk!!!

Fulfilled all the requests and had to sit in the car waiting for my milk.

Last night we ‘hit the town’. Couple of beers at Cafe du Centre in Roquecor followed by dinner at L’Artichaut back in Montaigu de Quercy. All in all a v pleasant evening. Back in time to watch the rugby were it not for the fact that we couldn’t immediately get the tv to work in the main house. I didn’t stay the pace, partly down to the large glass of calvados, and hit the hay earlyish.

Walking to the bar in Roquecor we saw dozens, hundreds even, of conkers lying on the ground. They seem to be rampant in this part of the world. No sign of anyone picking them up as would be the case in the UK. Conker paradise.

This morning’s wildlife sighting was a pheasant in the lane. I was on the way back from fetching the croissants and there it was in all its colourful splendour. The bread came from Chez Domy as recommended by Richard the caretaker. A good decision. The pain au raisins were huge.

Another red hot day in prospect. We have apparently been blessed with the weather. According to Brooke, last night’s chef, by this time in September it normally starts to cool. I don’t spend time in the sun unless it is in the pool.

The group splits up today with half headed to Toulouse for the night to watch Japan v Samoa. A late start that has occasioned an AirBnB for the night. Those left in the Manoir are off out to dinner locally. A couple of sherberts in the bar in Roquecor followed by nosh at L’Artichaut. Both highly recommended by those who know.

One of the joys of rural France is the ample supply of free open air parking in the towns we have been visiting. Villages really. None of the stress associated with parking in cities where vehicle height restrictions and complex pay and display machines rule the roost. The pay and display machines are no different to those in the UK really when it comes to complexity and difficulty of use.

One bemusing aspect of travelling in France has been the use of English language options when it comes to purchasing things, be they online or at a machine. Quite often only some of the screens have English text and revert into French for some parts of the transaction. This has not caused a problem, yet, but it does raise a smile.

This morning I experienced another issue. On the boulangerie run this morning to pick up the croissants a taxi pulled up in front of the shop. I cadged a business card off the driver and then realised I might as well see if he was free tomorrow evening for our jaunt into the village to dine at L’Artichaut. He told me I needed to ring the office as he didn’t manage the bookings.

Fair enough I thought though the alarm bells should have rung. I only just managed to understand him because of his deep regional French accent. Back at the Manoir I called the office but had to give up as without being there face to face I couldn’t understand a word he was saying. A bit like a Frenchman trying to understand Rab C Nesbitt.

Instead I messaged the caretaker to ask if he would enquire for me. It would be useful to at least know how much the fare would be before booking.

…

Caretaker got back to me. Apaz the taxi company people are on holiday and I was talking to a recorded message. Doh!!!

Sat in our huge living room at le Manoir. It is one of three. None of them get used. Outdoor living innit. It is light out. I made the tea at seven thirty and figured I’d nip to Intermarche in Montaigu de Quercy to pick up some bread, specifically for toasting but checked and it doesn’t open until nine. Figured I’d have a toasted bacon sandwich for breakfast plus maybs toast and marmalade. Simple things in life. See how it goes.

MdQ is seriously in the middle of nowhere. We are surrounded by fields for miles around. Self sufficiency is largely the name of the game. MdQ itself is five kilometres down the back road out of the manoir.

…

Bit of a jaunt to Montcuq today. Not much there. A few shops and caffs. Bought a case of different red wines of the region. All medoc, this being Cahors. For taking home not consuming here.

Had a coffee at Le Rocking Horse followed by lunch at Cafe du Centre. The place was rocking with aged expats. Not sure what sort of a life they have out here. It almost felt as if they were withering on the vine.

On the way back we spotted a sign for “Truffes Noires de Montcuq”. I’d noted earlier whilst perusing the area on Google maps and looked it up. Decided it wasn’t worth a special trip to visit, if only because black truffles are expensive and we don’t use them in cooking at home. So when we passed the sign I turned around in a farm track and went to explore. 

When we arrived all it was was a sign outside someone’s private house with a pool and deckchairs. A bloke appeared through some sliding doors. He was on the phone but waved. I took a snap decision to abort the visit and turned around as he started to walk across the lawn to where we had pulled up. Didn’t seem worth getting into a conversation.

Then we passed a sign for the Ecole de Parachutisme de Bouloc. Another place of interest on Google maps. We didn’t find that but with hindsight it does explain the sighting of the occasional light aircraft above Le Manoir.

Back at the ranch we discovered that the sunflower field behind the house had been harvested during our absence. Good job I’d cut a single plant myself when we set off on our trip. Thought we might as well plant some back in Lincoln and see how they get on.

The next challenge is to go and fetch some more red wine! We apparently drank the six bottles purchased yesterday.

Bit of a chill in the air this morning as I went to collect the croissants. Found an artisanale boulangerie in Montaigu de Quercy. I suspect most of them are labelled “artisanale” Missed it the first time I drove past and found myself out of the village before I knew it. Was only a small gaff. Quite pleased that the entire conversation with the woman behind the counter was conducted in French.

The annual bike and booze day was starting in Montaigu. There is a 30km route with a stop every ten clicks for wine, cheese and sausage. Also a shorter route for walkers. The road past village hall was bustling with bikers and walkers setting off on their jaunt.

An eight am start precluded participation by any of our touring party. The thirty kilometres would also have put most of us off. Everyone had the right gear.

I took the back road out of the Manoir. Just a track really. Had to lower the suspension on the defender as the hedging on either side arched quite low forming a tunnel over the track..

The walls in this place are almost a metre thick. They have fttp and a mesh wireless network so the internet connectivity is great. Our room however, thanks to the thickness of the masonry, gets practically no signal.

…

Later a jaunt to the Sunday market in Roqecourt. A small affair. Three of us blokes decided fairly quickly that the best way to ‘do’ the market was to sit in the cafe on the square in front of the church and leave the sheilas to it. Didn’t take long for them to latch on to the fact and join us. Cafe, cafe au lait, cappucino, Perrier, the. That was tea. Couldn’t get the accent to appear for the French word.

The market stalls were all local traders. One or two smallholders selling fruit and veg. THG bought a couple of butternut squashes to take home. The tomatoes were huge.

Now sat around the pool. There is a perfect shaded bit. This manoir is as luxurious as it gets.