Temperature inversion

 

Never fails! we leave the south sweltering and dripping in flimsy garb and get out of the car for breakfast somewhere in the upper reaches of La France Profonde wishing we’d put a fleece on. I have even been known to change in the back of the car. And so it was today. Last night we ate outside in muggy air - I had an oddly bland so called Peruvian style fish dish but Adrian’s caramelised pork was “delicious”.We left before seven in a warm morning, the viaduct twinkling and shimmering in the sun. Then a hefty two hours up the empty free motorway to gain time as it was a longish trip today. 

By the time we stopped for breakfast it was nine o’clock and we were beyond Clermont Ferrand in old mining country where no tourist sets foot! Stepped out of the car opposite a roadside café in St Eloy les Mines. It had tables outside and looked inviting. Then I registered the air…freezing! 18 degrees and windy.We went inside and I rubbed my arms for warmth. Oh dear says lady are you cold? Shall I close the doors? I explained we had come from a land down under as it were. Where temps were in high 30s. She understood, having recently returned from Brittany where she said it had been 42! (it had, in Nantes).

The day and countryside passed. We stopped by the Indre in a tiny place called Le Trenger.

It was idyllic with pretty fish lurking under the reeds, martins and swallows dive bombing the water and a neatly aménagé grassy sward with picnic tables.

Then one last heave and we were by the Cher buying a case of Cot from the Franceuil coop. Adrian cried “I just have to snap this appalling typography!” Opposite Chenonceaux and we first went there for a week when Adam was about 2.

Now in Ibis Budget Amboise contemplating the evening. Windy but reasonably warm so I don’t think fleeces are required.

A jolly little anecdote that will confirm my utter denseness re anything culinary. Last night the young lady was explaining what the dessert du jour was. I heard this - ‘un bookiebruni’. Blank look. Come again le Crapaud went through my mind. Is this something Mme Sarkozy has invented? She expanded… you know, a sort of chocolate cake with nuts. Ah! lightbulb…A Brownie. Now I have seen these on menus and in boulangeries but have never asked for one - why would you they aren’t exactly French - so haven’t heard them pronounced. But a bookiebruni? Turns out she too was confused by foreign words and had meant to say Cookie Brownie. Sounded horribly like a flat squishy biscuit so I opted for the clafoutis instead🤗