Race around the world

Travel Tip No. 6 - Don’t fly cheap airlines during a global financial crisis.

We have learnt a big lesson. After safely returning our little reliable C3, we arrived at Nice airport with plenty of time to catch our Sky Europe flight to Vienna. The departures board had our flight listed, together with the portentous word Annule. On enquiry, we discovered that not only was the flight cancelled but the airline had completely folded due to the global financial crisis. GREAT! - and we knew that we had booked two trips with them, one to Vienna from Nice and one to Zadar from Vienna a few days later.

We had to consider our options and, hoping that our insurance policy covered collapsed airlines, decided that despite the very costly flight, we would book with Lufthansa to Vienna via Frankfurt. We had a four hour wait at the airport. We finally made it to our accommodation in Vienna after midnight and collapsed into bed. The next morning was consumed with altering our travel plans - booking train tickets to Zagreb and changing the car pickup destination to there. Once done, we could start to enjoy Vienna. It really is a most beautiful city - gracious, sophisticated and grand are apt descriptions. Everywhere you look there are beautiful street scenes and wonderful buildings. Here is their equivalent of Parliament House.

The metro there is fabulous, making exploring very easy. Whilst there, we attended mass at St Stephen’s Cathedral, with a choir accompanied by brass instruments and an organ, enjoyed an annual festival to celebrate the harvest in the forecourt of the National Bibliotek where we met up with some locals (which was a hoot), visited Schloss Schonbrun (left) and climbed to the top of the hill in the gardens behind it to admire the view, ate lunch at the Naschmarkt (a permanent market set up along the centre of a wide boulevard) and attended a Mozart concert to celebrate Fran’s birthday. Trying to squeeze in as much as we could on our final morning, we went to see the Spanish Riding School horses (Lipizzaners) being given their morning exercise, followed by a guided tour of the Opera House, before scampering back to our apartment to get our luggage and head for the train station. Here is the opera house at night.

The train trip to Zagreb was eventful! The alpine scenery was stunning - almost expected to see Julie Andrews running down the slopes. The train had several stops along the way where it changed engines. The first place was at Spielfeld Strass, where the lights went off in the whole train and stayed off . We travelled for the next 25 minutes in complete darkness - bizarre. When we got the next engine we had lights again while we travelled through Slovenia but they went off again as they changed engines at the Slovenia/Croatia border. It was there that things got scary. Still in complete darkness, on came the Slovenian passport control to check passports … with torches! They checked Fran’s passport and asked when she had arrived in Europe - 4 months before. They said we had a problem. Despite advice we received from the French Consulate in Sydney, the Slovanians said that non-EU citizens cannot stay in Europe for greater than 3 months in any six month period, even if they are married to a British citizen (which Adrian is because he has dual citizenship) unless they have a visa or a permit of residency. There was definitely a Gestapo-ish feel to the experience. Fran was concerned that she would be thrown off the train there and deported home. They eventually shrugged their shoulders and wandered off - not really wanting to detain a couple of Aussies who were about to leave their country anyway. Then, at the same station (new engine PLUS lights), it was Croatia’s turn for passport control so she had more nervous moments. But they were much more relaxed and the journey continued, albeit with an element of concern as to whether or not Fran would be allowed back into the EU. We arrived at Zagreb (although the station had no sign to indicate where we were) and the carriage lights went out again.

The hotel in Zagreb was appalling despite being quite expensive. On the next morning we wandered around for a few hours before collecting our car at the airport and heading to a B & B near Plitvice National Park - the photos speak for themselves.

Then on to Biograd Na Moru on the coast for one night before heading south to Dubrovnik. On the way we stopped at a restaurant recommended by our friends Phil and Gina who had discovered it when they were in Croatia last year. It was at Mali Ston, across the road from a lovely little harbour which was a very picturesque setting, and the seafood was delicious.

Our accommodation in Dubrovnik was in a guesthouse owned and run by Danica, a delightful and hospitable hostess. The view from her balcony was absolutely stunning, looking over the new port from high up on a steep ridge that runs beside the water. The old town of Dubrovnik is very interesting having been almost destroyed during the war and then being re-built. But there were hordes of tourists through the day all shuffling through the streets, having been offloaded from tour buses and huge cruise liners. So after a short time amongst the hordes, we bailed out, grabbed our swimmers and towels and jumped on a ferry to nearby Lokrum island - much more peaceful.

The next day we again opted for a day at one of the islands of the Dalmatian coast - Lopud, an island with no cars. Fellow ferry travellers told us that the best beach was on the other side of the island - Sunj beach - a fair walk and so we started off. We had only gone a short distance when a golf buggy which regularly transports tourists to Sunj stopped and offered us a ride. We were in the back seat facing backwards and hung on to a little pole as we went up and down hills (it was worth the 20 kuna each) although it was somewhat alarming to read the sign facing us - Falling off can cause injury or death.

On our final morning we walked the walls of Dubrovnik’s old town - a very worthwhile experience - and less crowded than the streets below. Danica insisted on knocking off from her work to come home and drive us to the address where we were to pick up our rental car. To our surprise there was no-one in the office and it was shut up. We eventually discovered that the car hire company had folded (!) and been taken over by Europcar. Somehow we managed to get a car - fortunately an ex-employee came to the office whilst we were wondering what to do and made a few phone calls on our behalf. We still don’t know how it happened, but some bloke drove up, told us to get in and he drove us to another rent-a-car office where they gave us a car along with the name of a colleague (Igor) to ring when we got to Zadar airport. Igor would come to collect the car. And that’s what happened - Igor arrived, waving wildly out of his car window as he drove up to meet us - smooth as silk. However, Travel Tip No. 7 - Hire from Hertz.

Split was our next destination - another historical place with a lively port and Roman ruins in evidence throughout much of the old town, including the substructure of Diocletian’s palace (Diocletian was the emperor from 385 - 404). Again we decided on a day trip to one of the islands - Brac, a 50 minute ferry trip which was recommended by the ex-Australian who served our breakfast. She was a friend of our B&B hostess. On Brac we had an hour’s bus ride to a little village on the other side of the island, called Bol. The water was crystal clear and not cold. The bus trip was at times a bit hair-raising with the road built into the side of the cliffs on what looked like slippery shale rock. Adrian sat on the window side on the way back and kindly refrained from detailing the sharp drops at the side of the road. It seems that Croatians don’t want to spoil the view and so don’t install guard rails on many of the curves. We liked this little tree that was growing out of the roof of this house.

Our last full day in Croatia we headed to Zadar for the night, stopping at the UNESCO heritage listed town of Trogir. There we visited the Cathedral, much smaller than others we had seen, obviously reflecting the size of the place when it was built. Not sure what the significance of skull and cross-bones are in Croatian Catholic icons, but Christ’s feet on the crucifix were atop a skull and there were other skulls and crossed bones in the church. One small room adjacent to the altar housed an amazing collection of golden and silver chalices, richly jewelled arm pieces, paintings, two leg bones displayed in glass cylinders (presumably, belonging to Saint someone - but he must have been quite short!) and ancient songbooks and prayer books dating back hundreds of years. All these priceless objects were just behind glass doors with no other security. We really enjoyed our stay in Croatia - they are such friendly and welcoming people.

Sunset on Croatia

The flight to Pisa from Zadar with Ryanair was smooth and quick - we departed early and the pilot had us there 50 minutes ahead of schedule - unheard of in Australia! The Italian passport control was uneventful and so we passed back into the EU without any hitches. Then a direct bus to Livorno for another night before boarding the huge Corsica ferry to Bastia on the north east coast. After collecting the car at the airport, some 20 km south, we returned to Bastia before heading north up the infamous Cap Corse, stopping at Erbalunga, a tiny village on the sea with a pretty harbour. Whilst Corsica is relatively small, the roads are winding and narrow with crazy motorcyclists, so we have decided to limit our travel to the north as we are here for 7 nights only.

On the road again

We had mixed feelings as we left Puy l’Eveque. We really enjoyed our time there and were able to welcome and host visits from both friends and family. Here is Fran’s French teacher Joseline at a farewell dinner we hosted.

We headed south towards Andorra stopping en route at Ax les Thermes, where we opted to spend our first night. It is a spa town and Fran enjoyed warming her feet in the therapeutic waters. The next day we headed towards Barcelona, driving through the majestic Pyrenees - the views were absolutely awesome, and we noted that one car had recently run off the road, as he was in the ditch and being assisted by the Spanish police. We were so high we felt like eagles soaring above the clouds. But if we thought that was high, there was more to come, as we opted to climb up to the dizzying heights of Montserrat monastery (right) before descending to Barcelona at the coast.

Barcelona is a fabulous city with so much to see and do. We enjoyed the hop on hop off bus but did not get off as the queues were long, so enjoyed three different routes -north and west, south and the beaches. Our accommodation was a 25 minute stroll from town and so we did lots of walking. Really enjoyed seeing both the outside and the inside of La Sagrada Familla (left) - what an amazing architectural construction. We also enjoyed a flamenco music and dance show, walking through the Barri Gothic (the old streets), the liveliness of La Rambla with its street performers (below) and some delicious paella.

The trip north back to France allowed some fabulous views of the Costa Brava (left). We had considered staying there, but opted instead for the pretty coastal town of Collioure (below) on the Cote Vermeille. We arrived on a Saturday night and even though it was not officially high season it was incredibly busy. The trouble with places like Collioure which are so picturesque is that they attract heaps of tourists - like us!. We spent a really enjoyable three nights there. However on the last morning, parking for breakfast, Adrian misjudged the kerb and ripped a chunk of rubber from the front right tyre which we only discovered about an hour later when we stopped to look at a beach. We were lucky enough to find a Citroen dealer but, of course, they had shut for siesta and were nor due back for 1.5 hours. So … we went for a swim. The sad tale ends with us having to buy two new tyres as they didn’t have one to match the other front tyre and the spare was only for temporary use.

Then on to Carcassonne, a medieval walled town 65 km from the coast. As we were heading east, it did mean that we had to backtrack, but it was worth it. It is particularly stunning at night although once again choc full of tourist shops and tourists. We walked the ramparts and then headed east towards Provence, through part the of the Camargue (unimpressive) and the Pont du Gard. Another stunning world landmark built by the Romans thousands of years ago, and used then as an aqueduct.

We headed to our little cottage in Entrecasteaux, primarily to collect the keys from one of our American landlord’s neighbours. Despite providing the time that we would be there, they had opted to go away for a holiday. The door was opened by a woman who looked at us with a puzzled expression when we started asking for keys. She and her sister, one from Germany (Mary) and one from Switzerland (Elvie) were staying there and knew nothing about the arrangements. After a phone call, all was resolved as the neighbours had left the keys in their house. They were amazed to hear of our travels and that we were coming back to stay for two months at the beginning of October. After sharing a cool drink and conversation involving English, French and German words we bid our farewells and drove around the corner to the town square where our cottage is situated. There, right outside our front door (as our landlord had mentioned) was Mme Corti, our next door neighbour and some other locals. When we explained that we were renting the house they picked up their chairs and took off!
They must have thought that we were very strange as we disappeared inside the cottage with stacks of luggage, unpacked it and sorted it (in an attempt to travel with half of our clothes etc) and left about an hour later, around 6:30 pm, still with luggage. Fran explained to Madame that we would return and that we were off to Vienna, Croatia and then Corsica. That night we drove as far as Frejus on the coast, leaving ourselves an easy 60 km trip to Nice airport.

Adrian and Fran after a hard day's sightseeing

Sunset on Puy L'Eveque

Our days in the small village of Puy l’Eveque are numbered. This time next week we will be in Barcelona and our 5 week independent tour will have begun. We will leave behind the luxury of having a home in France to the challenges and adventures of moving every few days and living out of a suitcase.

Last week we visited Moissac about 60km south, stopping en route at Lauzerte, a bastide town perched on the top of a hill. Adrian was not taken with Lauzerte as it did not have an authentic feel about it, as the buildings were mainly recently built or renovated, albeit with a traditional appearance. In Moissac we visited the large Abbaye St-Pierre with its extraordinary cloister - 116 marble columns supporting sculptured capitals depicting biblical figures and scenes, animals and foliage, the work of several artisans. Apparently the railway line between Bordeaux and Sete was going to be laid right through the middle of the cloister, but that was averted at the last minute by a lobby group which recognised the history and creative workmanship that would be lost to future generations.

We ate our picnic lunch by the side of a canal which ran on its own bridge about 30 metres above the Garonne River!! Amazing engineering. What would have completed the picture was for us to have seen a barge pass by, but that was not to be. Whilst there, we saw numerous cyclists, some with paniers attached to their bikes, obviously on tour, and several locals who arrived for a swim in the canal, complete with li-los and beach umbrellas. We walked across the bridge to check out the canal locks on the other side and pondered the various ways to enjoy travel in France.

We held another dinner party last week to return hospitality to our English neighbours and our landlords, once more presenting challenges for using ingredients which one takes for granted in Australia. The cornflour used to make a sauce for lemon chicken looked more like the old fashioned Clag glue than the transparent appearance of the same sauce made at home. Still, it tasted OK. Much talk was about dealing with French local government officials, how high various past floods had risen inside our house, and who was doing what amongst the local British expatriates.

Our final visitors at Puy L‘Eveque - Fran’s sister Jill and her husband Mick - arrived on Thursday evening at Cahors train station after a gruelling 48 hours travel from Ballarat in Victoria. They looked remarkably alert, but they must have been exhausted. Fran had planned an itinerary for their stay incorporating some villages we hadn’t seen as well as some of the highlights of the area.

On their first day with us they looked remarkably chipper, so off to Prayssac to give them a taste of the markets in rural France, followed by a leisurely lunch comprising many of the goodies we had just purchased. Afterwards a visit to the town of Fumel, or more specifically the clothing outlet adjacent to the huge supermarche, in search of some shorts for Mick who, after a few hours of hot sunshine in the south of France, realised that he should have packed some. After a brief stop to admire the impressive exterior of the feudal fortress of Chateau Bonaguil (featured in previous blog entries), we made our way to the night Marche Gourmand at Montcabrier where local producers were showcasing and selling their wares. We joined others at trestle tables and enjoyed some regional soupe gratuite (free) followed by a taster plate of smoked trout and dips, cabecou (a variety of goat’s cheese) on bread garnished with honey and walnuts and some frites (chips), washed down with a bottle of rose.

The next day we headed to Villeneuve-sur-Lot, a largish town with clothing shops, again on a mission to get some shorts for Mick. Success! Then on to the tiny village of Pujols, claimed to be one of the most beautiful villages in France and, indeed, it is very picturesque. They were having a pottery market and, not for the first time, Fran wished that the baggage limit for travel was greater than 20 kg!! We enjoyed a picnic lunch there overlooking an attractive view of the valley below and the town of Villeneuve-sur-Lot. Then on to Penne d’Agenais with its quite modern church (19th century) with an impressive façade, built at the top of the village, adjacent to which was a graveyard. Jill remarked “What a beautiful place to be buried” to which Adrian cheekily quipped - “Yep, great view!”

The final stop on the day’s itinerary was the little church at Cazes, only 5 km from home, to attend a free classical concert - Three Sopranos singing a repertoire of religious and lyric arias. Three talented young women with great vocal technique provided an audience of around 100 with a very entertaining hour of music. Most enjoyable. The father of one of the singers, seated beside Adrian, was as proud as Punch, often looking at him to check his approval of the performance.

Sunday’s itinerary took us to Villefranche du Perigord where a very large antique fair was being held, and then on to the town of Monpazier, described as one of the best preserved bastide towns in France. We arrived in time to witness a one man acrobatic show which had our hearts in our mouths. A man was balancing precariously on a long thin metal pole about three or four storeys high above the town square (concrete paving, not grass). He was doing handstands, and hanging by his legs, etc. That in itself would have been impressive but then, standing upright on the metal ring, using only his body to balance, he made the pole wave from side to side. It was heart stopping stuff! Afterwards he came around with his hat and people were falling over themselves to toss in a euro or two. He came and sat at the table next to us while we were having an aperitif, but we noticed he only had a Coke and nothing alcoholic. He had another show scheduled a bit later on.

On the way home we stopped off at Chateau Biron but unfortunately arrived too late to get into the chateau itself. As you can see, it is a pretty impressive place. Nevertheless, we wandered around the village that sits under the chateau which, in its own right, is also impressive with well preserved buildings that still evoke images of medieval life. Legend has it that one of the previous owners offended the King and was beheaded. On 31 July each year he wanders around the chateau with his head under his arm (as you would!). This had us checking the date!

Yesterday we made the trek to Toulouse, a town Fran had long wanted to see after seeing Rick Stein peruse the covered markets in Place Victor Hugo. It is a very beautiful city with some grand buildings. It has a Parisian feel to it, although not nearly as large nor as busy. Unfortunately we could only spend a few hours there as we had booked on a guided tour of the site where the Airbus A380 is assembled, but we did make time to appreciate the ornate opulence of the Prefecture building complete with its Salle des Illustres (Hall of the Illustrious) and a delicious lunch in the grand Place du Capitole. Here are the Wilsons in Placa Wilson in Toulouse.

Did you know that four countries (UK, Spain, Germany and, of course, France) are involved in the manufacture of the A380? The parts are so large that they cannot even fit inside a Beluga transport plane, so they travel firstly by ship to Bordeaux, then on large barges along the Garonne River, and finally by a convoy of trucks at night so as to cause as little disruption as possible on the roads. They are brought to Blagnac, near Toulouse, where they are assembled to make the complete aeroplane. Only three airlines are flying A380s at present - Singapore, Emirates and Qantas, but they currently have orders for 200 planes. There was an unpainted Qantas plane parked on the outside area, undergoing tests. The only thing identifying it as Qantas was the kangaroo motif on its engines. Whilst the assembly of the airbus is done in France, the painting and fit-out is done in Hamburg. The guide told us about the raft of tests that they do including how quickly they can evacuate passengers in an emergency. Some amazing statistics were given to us including the dimensions of the plane and the maximum passenger capacity, but the one that we remember is that 700 kg of paint goes on each plane in many thin layers. Adrian’s comment - “that’s not much”.

Well that’s it folks … until we can find the time to write the next blog entry, whenever and wherever that might be.

In the thick of it ... again

We continue to be amazed at the number and variety of things to do in this little village and the surrounding area. Fran’s French teacher had told us of a string concert that was to be held in the church at the tiny village of Montcabrier, so we decided to attend. The musicians were from Paris and the local organiser was the grandfather of one of them. The music included Schonberg (La Nuit transfiguree opus 4) and Mendelssohn (a work for 8 stringed instruments in 4 movements). It was of the highest standard and probably was one of the best chamber music concerts we have ever attended. Afterwards, drinks (wine) were provided for the musicians and audience in the square outside the church, which had been lit up with coloured lights. On a balmy evening it was an unique experience and, as Adrian remarked, was the sort of thing we hoped to experience by coming to rural France instead of a big city. After that, we were invited to the home of one of the local councillors for some further drinks. Her house is located on the town square. She also runs a chambre d’hote and, according to her brochure, she is an art and design historian as well as speaking fluent French. She was a former Brit but has recently achieved French citizenship, having lived here since she fled from Margaret Thatcher’s England in 1991.

We knew that it was scheduled. It happens every year and is considered the piece de resistance of the annual Fete de Puy l’Eveque. If we were in any doubt that it was big, those doubts were soon dispelled when we saw the quantity of explosives being unloaded from vehicles and set up on the cale right outside our house. We wondered why they would set them up the day before the event and Fran was none too easy about sleeping in a room above what looked like giant sticks of dynamite. Our fears were compounded when we witnessed the organisers wandering nonchalantly past smoking their cigarettes and we were further worried when the weather turned nasty, with thunder and lightning buzzing around the sky during the night. The “security guards” on duty were more concerned about keeping dry than preventing fireworks theft or other mischief, and when we peeked through the curtains in the early hours of the morning we saw that they had deserted their posts and were fast asleep in their cars.

Fireworks day dawned but it was very wet … and it rained almost continuously all day. The event was postponed until the next day. Great!! - another night of nervous sleep on top of a potential explosion. But we did have security guards on patrol outside! Monday was a beautiful day and the organisers were busy early getting the show on the road. We had a birds-eye view of the activity. Also on that day, we had been invited to lunch at our landlords’ home in the country about 30 minutes’ drive away. The other guests were an English couple who, a few weeks previously, had cycled up to our window and introduced themselves to us. The food, wine and company were all very pleasant and when we arrived home at 6 p.m. we had to explain to a guard that we lived there and needed to get to our house. Access was granted, but not for our car which we had to park elsewhere.

We packed a picnic tea - bread, cheese, tomatoes, sausage with the customary bottle of vin and headed across the river to watch the spectacle pyrotechnique. The fireworks started at about 10:30 p.m. and were quite impressive, having a space theme and set to music from Star Wars and including a rocket launch countdown sequence and “One small step for Man, …” There was a large crowd all enthusiastically watching and applauding when the show finished. These photos will give you an idea. Most feature our house in the thick of it.

Afterwards we ventured to the main square where a band “Sahara” entertained the crowds with some good music. The singers and musicians were accompanied by four female dancers in numerous matching skimpy costumes, akin to the “go-go girls” from the 1960’s. Adrian reckoned that Kylie Minogue also has a lot to answer for. But to their credit, they were well rehearsed and incredibly fit. After tapping her feet for some time Fran persuaded Adrian to engage in some good old rock-n-roll, although the majority of people weren’t dancing.

Tuesday was the last day of the Festival and the main event was a bike race. We called it the Tour de Puy l’Eveque, because despite the fact that it was 89 km long, the circuit was only 3.2 km which the riders completed 28 times!! They were also incredibly fit as the ride up the Grand Rue is quite steep, with cobblestones adding an extra challenge. We watched the start and the first few laps, then retired home for a cuppa and a rest before returning for the thrilling finale.

We also checked out the “beach” at Cahors - Cahors Plage, where they dump a heap of sand along the river bank, and set up Tahitian thatched umbrellas to provide some shade. They also have an enclosed area set up for swimming, but most people seemed just to enjoy lying by the side of the river. Beach sports such as volleyball and football (soccer) are also part of this annual event. According to the local paper, the Cahors Plage cost 205, 000 euros to set up this year.

That night a Shakespeare play, As You Like It, was scheduled to be performed on the cale beside our house. We decided to “like it” from the comfort of our bedroom windows. We were, in effect, in le loge royale (the royal box). It drew a few laughs and looks from the crowds below as we took our places, complete with wine glasses, five minutes before the play started. One lady, on seeing our wine, shouted, "And it’s not even half-time yet!" The performance, in English, was very well done by a young group on tour from London. One of the players was an Aussie from Torrens in the ACT whom we’d met a few days earlier when he was swimming in the river near our house.

On Friday night we hosted a dinner party for our friends - Norah and Benoit. Fran had promised to make them some traditional Aussie fare … a pavlova. This was quite a challenge as the ingredients and equipment here are very different to Australia. But Fran managed OK and served up a 4-course meal. It was a really enjoyable evening with lots of cross-cultural communication and education on French and Australian ways. They are heading to Paris for work at about the same time that we leave Puy l’Eveque, in a little over two weeks.

Yesterday morning as we were driving around we discovered a Marche aux Puces at Montcabrier. We were keen to know what a puce was! It turned out to be a “trash and treasure” market (a puce is a flea) selling an amazing array of second hand stuff - anything from wooden chests, crockery, lamps and books, lots of old utensils, tired looking dolls, old farm equipment and what looked like the complete set of keys for the Bastille on a large iron ring. Our friends, Charlie and Craig (they know who they are), would have been in heaven.

Last night we went to Cahors to see a sound, light and images display with the 700 year old Pont Valentre as the centrepiece. The Pont Valentre has featured in an earlier blog entry. Whilst not overly spectacular (it's hard to compete with our village’s fireworks), it was eerily enthralling. As you walked on to the bridge the cobblestones were illuminated with the following words (obviously, in French):

Water; Stone; Devil; Faith, War; Life. These are the key words opening the doors to your imagination. Listen, watch and reconstruct my history.

Those 6 elements provided the themes for the sound and light display.

Midnight Bangs

Adrian has continued to be in the wars with a very painful wrist which became so sore that he wanted to go to the doctor (must have been bad!) Instead, on the recommendation of our British neighbour, Ann, we ventured to the pharmacie where Fran had another opportunity to practise her French. After examining Adrian’s wrist and confirming where it hurt most (yes … a very painful exercise), the pharmacist diagnosed rheumatisme and sold us some anti-inflammatory cream. It healed after a few days, which was fortunate as there was some talk that Fran would “have to drive”!!! On Friday night, we were startled from a deep sleep just after midnight by the sound of (clandestine) fireworks going off not twenty paces from our bedroom. Someone had got hold of a commercial “pot” which sent coloured balls high into the sky while also sending up showers of sparks. It was very scary - Fran’s first thought was that the electricity in the bedroom had shorted. It only lasted for a minute or so after which could be heard the sound of cheering from the opposite bank. We wonder whether they were so focussed on the fireworks display that they failed to see the sleepy, but startled, faces of two middle aged etrangers at the window. After the various events of the Fete de L’Insolite under our window and the concert outside our hotel window in Agde several nights earlier, Adrian’s only comment was “Why can’t they leave us alone?”

We have visited several (more) interesting French towns on excursions west and south. There are just so many and we have found that some of the best are not mentioned in any guide books. Villefranche du Perigord has a restored medieval open market place in front of the church and a very interesting brocante (antiques shop). Monflanquin (challenging to pronounce) is a village perched on the top of a hill (as are so many - they were into defence in earlier centuries) which seems to rise up from the surrounding countryside. We had bought some paella at a market in a village nearby and stopped en route home. We were rueing the fact that we hadn’t any forks to eat our paella in the shade of the trees with a magnificent view, so we went looking, only to discover the tail end of another market and a wonderful village square. One little café looked appealing so we decided to stop there for lunch. That night we wondered whether we would regret that decision as the paella was out of the fridge for almost three hours. But we were lucky and didn‘t get food poisoning - next time we’ll pack forks, come straight home, or not buy paella. But it was delicious. We look forward to trying it again in Spain.

Another big trip south yesterday to Montauban to stock up on gluten free tucker and then on several villages on the banks of the Aveyron river. One of these is Bruniquel - an amazing and authentic medieval village! We think it’s more interesting than Rocamadour and St Cirq La Popie - and far, far less touristy. The streets and houses still seem to be the same as when they were used by the workers from the chateaux. It has two chateaux at the highest point - an old chateau and a new (the latter being 17th century). The first photo above is a garden in Villefranche du Perigord while the next two are streets in Bruniquel. Showing a continued interest in wines, Fran had to have a photo with the giant wine press in the chateau at Bruniquel.

If we hadn’t packed a picnic lunch, we would have again been tempted to stop for a meal as the little restaurants looked so inviting. Throughout the early part of August there are opera performances outside the chateaux - unfortunately a little too far away from Puy for us to attend. We found a very restful spot in the shade near the river for a simple picnic lunch of sausage, cheese, tomato and avocado (and a baguette for Adrian), washed down with Perrier. Afterwards on to the village of Penne with the ruins of its 13th century chateau clinging to the cliff above the village houses and then to Saint Antonin Noble Val. This is a farm scene from near the village of Penne. We loved the little dove-cote on stilts. Also here is the bridge at Saint Antonin Noble Val.

By this stage it was incredibly hot and so we didn’t do this little place justice and decided to start the trek home. After several kilometres, Fran offered to drive … and surprisingly, with no hesitation, Adrian pulled over. Well she was going along, going along, keeping on the right side of the road until … Karen announced in her Ozzie nasal twang that Fran had to make a left hand turn at the next intersection and, as anyone who has driven “on the wrong side of the road” will attest, left hand turns are the trickiest. But Fran managed it successfully with the ever-calm Adrian providing very welcome back seat guidance (he puts on a good act). Fran continued for 60 km, negotiating numerous roundabouts and turns until she handed the wheel back to Adrian at the petrol station only 5 km from home and breathed a sigh of relief. In fact, they both breathed a sigh of relief.

Today it is the annual Fete du Vin at Puy l’Eveque. When we ventured up to the square at the top of the town to have a look-see, we discovered that preparations had begun for the town’s annual festival which starts tomorrow and runs for 5 days. Near the post office they have set up the equivalent of “sideshow alley” with dodge-em cars, rides such as the Hawaii Wipeout and knick-knack stalls, etc. They have also unloaded barricades at strategic places around the streets that lead down to the cale so it seems that we are, again, to be at the centre of the action for some of the festival events.

The paparazzi (usually disguised as tourists) continue to take our photo. Almost every time we look out the window someone is on the cale, or the bridge, pointing a camera in our direction and, each night, we see camera flashes from across the river. In fact, the cite workers have set up a grandstand over there that could accommodate a few hundred people. Is it to watch the etrangers, or does it have some other purpose? Perhaps it is for Sunday when there is to be a fireworks spectacular (on the cale outside our house) with the medieval town providing a suitable, and undoubtedly stunning, backdrop. It is best viewed on the other side of the river, so that’s where we’ll be - with the hundreds of other people in the grandstand, staring at our bedroom window!

Just another perfect sunset looking across the Lot River