France was mostly closed on Thursday - at least the bits we drove through. Admittedly this was the Gorges du Tarn where tourists roam in season. But this is not yet Season, so every single bar, restaurant, hotel, boulangerie, tabac was barred and shuttered. The only activity was builders, plumbers, electricians - all fettling establishments in anticipation of Easter! There are locals and farms and inhabited houses so where do they shop?!
Mind you it was a treat to have the road and scenery to ourselves. You really do not want to be there in season mixing it with campervans, kayakers, bungie jumpers etc.
We did eventually find an open bar in Ste Enimie, full of local folk. But no croissants - no boulangerie! Very odd as it is a decent sized village with residents. Maybe the shops are all having their annual holiday before the onslaught. No matter, by then we were resigned to having to wait until Florac to eat. Which we did in a charming little square by the weekly farmers’ market selling local smoked trout, jars of local snails and various chestnut confections, rhubarb crowns, potatoes, leeks etc.
Then over the hills along the Corniche des Cévennes with long views to snow capped peaks. We got to Sablet about 3 and unpacked checked, ordered pizzas for tea and settled in. Only one slipped tile - Mr Fernandes has been emailed! I suggested Adrian try to get to it by putting the ladder on the terrace table but er…he was too heavy and table legs collapsed!
Mr F appeared while Beryl and I were out for a walk. He’d been to a funeral in Sablet so was all in black. Adrian dealt with it and Mr F refused any payment!