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Given the high temperature in Avignon on Friday (the car was reading 41C) we opted for a long, leisurely breakfast and then a quiet hour or two in our air-conditioned room, reading, word gaming and the like.  We had lunch at the hotel, taking our time, then headed out to fuel the car and do some final shopping at the Carrefour near the station.  We ambled round every single air-conditioned aisle with no intention of buying anything, but had eventually to go back to the car and turn it in (miraculously without damage).

What of the hire car?  It was a Citroën C5 Aircross (car names get more fanciful by the year).  Though a mere 1.5 diesel, it performed more than adequately, and was roomy and comfortable, if a bit prone to roll.  The automatic gear selector took a bit of learning, as did the cruise control, but once I’d mastered them, the car and I became friends.  A couple of things I liked: the cruise control was very prompt to change down on downward slopes, and the reversing camera looked round corners in response to the amount of lock applied.  What I disliked?  The steering wheel with its silly flat bits top and bottom.  The minuscule back window.  The ‘lane assist’ thingy which kept tugging at the steering wheel.  Oh, and the rather sloppy handling, probably a trade-off for the generally decent ride.

The TGV station at Avignon is air-conditioned, but could not cope with the 41C heat.  It is consequently not the best place to spend a couple of hours, let alone the almost three before our delayed train finally hove in.  Unaware of the delay, we were out on the platform at the announced ‘à l’heure’ departure time.  Shortly before sunstroke set in, a spot of phone prodding revealed that the train was actually running half an hour late, in consequence, we later learned, of a breakdown on the way south.  Announcements?  Nary a one.

Once on board, we were soon settled into a slightly less crowded coach than last time.  At no point on the journey, however, could we access the WiFi, unlike on the way south, and the service was haphazard to say the least.  The route is very pretty in parts, particularly between Lyon and Macon, and we were treated to a magnificent sunset when we (finally) left Lille.  One ironic moment was when we looked out to see the vast displays of graffiti south of Lyon.  Beneath copious rolls of razor wire...

I have to say that the Lille experience is awful.  Since there are no international facilities at Marseille, Avignon or Lyon, all  passengers must get off at Lille together with all their bags, bits and bobs, go upstairs for ticket checks, two passport checks and baggage X-rays, then hang around in a stuffy waiting room before re-boarding.

It was about midnight before we got home, thanks to roadworks on the M20 (maybe it wasn’t such a great idea to opt for the easy route).  In the circumstances, we were perhaps a bit picky when it came to reviewing the decorating that had been done in our absence.  Come morning, we were still not wild about it, but have decided to remedy the faults ourselves.

The garden has been busy in our absence.  The penstemons have responded well to the hacking I gave them in the spring, the roses have been flowering like mad (I’ve filled a big bucket with dead heads) and the beans (well, most of them) are flowering and starting to set.  We’ll give the spuds another week of generous watering before we start turning them out.  The weeds have of course been excelling themselves, so there’s plenty of work out there.

A fine day here, so the laundry mountain we brought home is now cupboards and drawers full of clean stuff.  I suspect we may be having an early night.