Friday
6th September
We
finally had a day when it didn’t really matter when we got up. We
had no immediate pressing arrangement for the early morning so
lounged around the house having breakfast and finishing off our
washing. I sometimes think we try to fit a bit too much into each
day, so having a sleep-in, even if it was only for an extra hour,
certainly made a big difference.
Julian
Warner and Lucy Sussex (who we’d last seen in Edinburgh) were due
in by train mid-afternoon. This had caused a bit of a dilemma as we
now had six people to move around for a few days, yet the Harvey
vehicle could only safely transport four, five at a pinch. But John
had it all arranged so we set off late in the morning to pick up the
second vehicle at a rental place next to the major supermarket in
Niort. I had been warned about this a few months before so had got
myself an International Drivers’ Licence back in Australia. I
hadn’t needed it previously in Ireland, Northern Ireland or
northern France and was hoping I might get some use out of it. The
woman behind the counter took a look at it and handed it back, took
my Victorian Driver’s Licence and my passport, and photocopied
both. Another opportunity lost. I did have the thought that if I
hadn’t taken the International one then that’s the one she would
have asked for.
I’d
had a car with an automatic transmission in northern France and
although this one was manual I’d overcome any level of anxiety I
might have had by this time about driving a left-hand-drive vehicle
so the changed arrangements didn’t bother me.
The
rest of the morning and early afternoon was a lazy time, just what we
needed. Eve and John headed off to pick up Julian and Lucy from the
train, and we got through a final load of washing.
The
afternoon consisted of a few drinks in the late-summer sun while we
caught up with what the new guests had been doing over the past few
weeks.
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| Heading out to dinner |
The
main event of the day, other than the arrival of a couple of other
hangers-on, was a walk along a nearby river and then dinner at a
delightful little auberge to celebrate John and Eve's 40th
wedding anniversary. I tackled the snails for an entree. Not sure why
I bothered; they were hard to get out of the shell and tasted of not
much more than the garlic sauce. Still, when in France...
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| The auberge |
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| The table |
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