well yesterday, Wednesday Morning 4 am we were up and off before 5. Arrived Poole in good time and good weather and made straight for TOAST in the Barfleur resto. Bit soggy but served its purpose. Then I stretched out on the banquette with the sounds of Bargain Hunt or similar on TV and had a nap before lunch. Salade Niçoise (I guessed!). Adrian went for the filet mignon of porc of course. By then Cherbourg Peninsula was visible and before you know it we were off. Only to be greeted by a detachment of Army chaps with nasty automatic weapons guarding the passport control. Scary. We obviously looked unthreatening to La Patrie and were waved through. An uneventful drive brought us to Laval in time for tea (well, pizza...). Nice town on its river, which last night was shooting up picturesque jets of water by the bridge. Much ooing and aahing. Alas the hotel wifi was en panne in the rooms. OK in Reception but their recently installed booster anntenae were kaput! Lady manger was seen wandering around with her ipad like a digital water diviner trying to get a signal!
Today, Thursday we got up at a less ungodly 7.20 and were away into the rush hour by 8. It was still dark! Breakfast at Meslay du Maine - I know some of you like to log our trip in minute detail! Although the méteo on telly was saying the temperatures were wintry it actually felt quite warm. Cool breeze but bright (too bright for the driver) sun coming straight down the road as we headed south. Everything is gearing up for autumn. Apple days are advertised, fields ploughed, hay lorries delivering huge round bales, men with dogs and shotguns, dessicated stands of brown sunflowers.
Across the Loire at Montsoreau and away down the open plains of Poitou before stopping by a river in Lussac les Châteaux for picnic of eggs and sausage etc, carefully prepared back in Bullsmead. Now the pound is worth nothing we will need these little economies. It's quite fun being in the mini motor but a bit of a challenge in the packing department. When you are used to the cavernous Berlingo you miss all the secret hidey holes.
We realised we were making ridiculously fast time. Originally we'd planned to get to Rodez but then Adam pointed out this was a Long Way. Rapid recalculations and we rebooked into Brive. But at this rate we'd be there by 3... So, a little detour into Bellac for coffee was agreed. Serendipity strikes again. It turns out this small town was the birthplace of Jean Giraudoux, famous playwright. I studied one of his works -
La Guerre de Troie n'aura pas lieu. Look it up!
We also witnessed the genesis of a new Roundabout. The French love them. We saw the plans for this one in a shop window right next to where Men were marking it out with cones.
It's warm here in Brive.
