Bulletin

It turns out that neighbour André is in hospital in Carcassonne, and will spend some time in a Maison de Repos while they fit his house out with a downstairs wc etc. 

The evening was a little cooler yesterday, so we sat up on the roof terrace for a while, watching the swifts and house martins swooping noisily overhead, and retired once we were satisfied that the bats are still around in good numbers.

Last night France2 held an on-line vote for France's favourite village, and the programme included a nice little clip about Lagrasse, the nominee for our region.  Our neighbour Carlos, who does local walking tours, went round with the programme's presenter, and our rather yellow end wall was visible in the sequence taken on the bridge.  As it turns out, Kaysersberg in Alsace took the accolade, but it was nice to see our bled getting a plug.

We trekked up to the market town this morning, but couldn't find anywhere to park in the town, even in Fortnums' car park.  Tricky, that, since you need the code on your receipt to get out of the car park, and if you can't park, you're unlikely to have a receipt, eh?  Fortunately, the barrier on the entrance side was up, so we left by the wrong side, as it were, amid somewhat bünzlig remonstrations, to which I refrained from reacting, from a local person.  Having bought at the Carrefour what we'd gone to the market for, we headed for home via a brief scenic detour.  Where the road peels off to Ferrals, a Xantia Picasso of some age was stuck precariously in the left-turn lane with its hazard flashers going.  We pulled over where we could do so safely to go and see if help was needed.  It was not, as it turned out, since the driver had already summoned assistance, but a good couple of dozen cars must have whipped past while we were there without their drivers bothering to stop and enquire.  What is the matter with people?

We're invited to apéros later, so had our main meal at lunchtime.  Saltinbocca of pork fillet and local jambon cru, with home-grown sage.  Ratatouille and roasties by Martyn.  Carluccio's: you may come and take master classes.