Tuesday, 7 June 2005
There is little to report about this day, as we did little, as little as possible. There was a perishing wind from the north pole in the morning and we ate our humble muesli inside the tent with the zips closed.
Our New Zealand neighbours kindly came over with their gas cooker so that we could make tea, something we had not tasted since we arrived in France. They were moving on after a rest day but we were staying, in the hope that my terrible blisters would recover.
We spent the morning in the town having coffee and reading the local paper. In the afternoon we lay about at the camping ground.
I decided to have a shower, but they were all locked during the afternoon except the handicapped one and I worried about the next handicapped person who used it, as it sent out a spout of undiluted scalding water, impossible to regulate, and I had to skip constantly in and out to escape being scarred for life.
We dined in a small street in the centre of town, at a place called the Arlequin. It was too chilly to eat out of doors so we got a table inside next to a lovely mural.
Keith had a three-course menu (terrine, pizza, pear tart) and I had a single plate of three lamb cutlets which was wonderful.
There was a fair-haired English couple next to us, on their way from Spain, where they lived, to England to do some shopping. They offered us a lift back to the camping ground but we declined – cars are so foreign to our present style of life.