We learn, slowly

The last few days in Lagrasse are always pretty busy: this time, because it had been so cold, we'd twice the normal amount of laundry to do, and the day we left, the washing machine was running from 06:00 till close to midday.  Not a hope of getting stuff dry outside, of course: when it wasn't raining, it was blowing a gale.  Consequently, the house will remain festooned with washing till we get back.

Kate and John came for supper on Friday night, having arrived late the previous evening from London via Girona.  We had a nice evening together, catching up on the news, and doing some damage to a fair bit of regional produce.

Before we left, we had at least got most of the plumbing issues resolved, though the shower room still smells of drains.  On checking, I find that there are two possible sources apart from the shower itself: the hot water tank drain-down arrangements and the plumbing for a washing maching (which would have to be a pretty slim volume to fit in!)  As for the outdoor work, we saw the builder while we were there, and he'll be doing the first half of the work between now and our next visit, which should keep the neighbour reasonably happy.  We'll have to wait until autumn for the second half, since we aren't allowed scaffolding out on the street in the summer months. 

The drive home was long: maybe it seemed unusually so because we took three days over it, hence slept badly two nights in succession in unfamiliar beds.  It was delightful to see Jan and Mark, who kindly put us up for the night in Puylaroque.  Since we last visited, Mark has created a new downstairs sitting room, so what was a two-bedroomed house over a cellar has become a five-bedroomed house, the dowstairs comprising three bedrooms, a sitting room, a bathroom and a hall/kitchenette/breakfast room.  Mark has also put in a swimming pool, and is in the process of creating a rabbit-proof raised bed potager.  We gather that he has also pegged out the land for the next project: the garage.  While we were there we ate at an unpretentious and welcoming country restaurant - salad and charcuterie, soup, meat or fish, cheese, pudding, wine - €15/couvert.  These places are still to be found, if increasingly rarely, and have a loyal following.

Late spring 2013, Auvergne style

For the second day, we headed across country to Vichy through the beautiful Quercy and Auvergne countryside, enjoying some fine views to the west as we climbed, and snow-capped volcanic plugs to the east.  Our route took us up to the ski resort at Lioran, where there had obviously been overnight snow.  Slushy stuff by this point, but not what one expects on 26 May!  The views from the east side were less spectacular, but the clouds parted for the last part of the drive to Vichy.  I managed to get us spectacularly lost in the outskirts of Clermont Ferrand, having baulked at Dotty's suggestion that we drive two sides of a triangle to get out on the road to Vichy.  I suspect we drove marginally further than had we done as she told us.

It's a few years since we've been in Vichy, and that time we stayed in a Campanile in the outskirts.  This time we put up in a hotel next door to the spa, so we could explore a little more.  A flea market was just packing up on the banks of the Allier as we walked, and I have to say that it had a lot in common with the brocantes in Lagrasse and round about, and correspondingly little to offer us.  The park near the Célestins spring boasts many fine specimen trees, and the back streets nearby have a curious mixture of Neuilly and

Etablissement thermale from Vichy hotel room balcony

Montmartre about them.  Like Montmartre, Vichy boasts a modern church of dubious architectural merit.  Unlike Montmartre and Neuilly, however, the bits of Vichy we found lacked attractive bistros.  The fish restaurant Kate and John had recommended unfortunately doesn't open on Sunday evenings, so we finished up eating at the hotel - acceptable meal helped along by an undistinguished Saint-Pourçain.

Dotty led us along some peculiar but largely quiet country roads out of Vichy and up to the N7.  Thence to the tree-themed A77 and to the drain (aka the very heavily used A6).  The A6 ground to a halt some way south of Corbeil-Essonne, and when we left the motorway at that point, Dotty started to get seriously confused.  Navigating using maps and the proximity of the river for reference, we found our way on to the east-about N/A104 which traces a drunken and circuitous route round from the A6 round to the A1 at the airport.  There is a sort of Aire part-way round the A104, but I wouldn't recommend it other than in extremis.  We ate our shop-bought, hence already unappetising sandwiches standing by the car between trucks, the drivers of which had plainly lacked the energy to walk as far as the lavatories.

There is an obvious short cut to avoid a big loop back to Le Bourget, and it takes you in an almost straight line to the north, touching the eastern perimeter of the airport, and emerging at a point just short of the Péage on the A1.  From there, it was just a long, dull grind up to the autoroute des Anglais, and another up that to Calais.  Memo to self: check when booking that it isn't a bank holiday in the UK.  The tunnel was very busy, and we spent a long time hanging around in car parks.

All seems well hereabouts.  The garden has been growing well - notably the grass, which, given the forecast, we won't get cut for a few days yet.  Aquilegias and potentillas are now in flower, as are our late-planted tulips.  The grass seed I sowed at the front this year seems not to have done much, but last autumn's sowing is enough almost to fill the post-leylandii bald patch until I can sow again this autumn.

The tiredness begins to show.  Making meatballs this morning, I went looking for an egg and found none.  Motored down to the farm and bought a dozen.  Went to the fridge, and found a dozen eggs already in there.  And I quite forgot while out to buy bird seed.  Supreme irony: the meatball mixture held together perfectly well without benefit of egg.  Oh well.