Silver tops still wandering

So, after the ‘shushing’ on my inter-rail trip, my trials and tribulations with the french car, and the shutting down of the town we stayed in before we got to our accomodation, I was a tad fed up with all things french. But then, we three have had the most wonderful of weeks here. All be it with zero tinternet! I have been seduced again  into loving most things French.

Current travel companion has done some tethering, technical term beyond my understanding, he has postioned me on a chair outside where there is something called 5G. No space in my brain or memory for such stuff. Just very pleased to bring my valued followers up to date.

We have been coming to Cahors for thirteen years and it never fails to delight. From the Pont Valentre to the markets.

As with all things French, no two visits to the same place are ever predictable, and of course a day to Cahors wouldn’t be complete without the obligatory demonstration. At least it wasn’t farmers with tractors and ‘field feeding products’!

It was in actual fact all very relaxed, the gendarmerie were in attendance, in body if not in spirit, and there wasn’t a riot shield, yellow juillet or a burning tyre in sight! All very ‘bonne homme’.

Then there was the concurrent event of dancing in the street, there was then a cacophany of sounds and movement. Enough to dizzy me.

Travel companion swung a hip momentarily but there was imminent danger of some sort of dislocation occurring so that had to be stopped immediately. Of course stroppy hip and dodgy knees looked on in envy remembering the tables danced on in a previous life!

Swimming spots have been identified and duly added to the swimming log.

Evenings with friends at a truly perfect location.

A short drive from Prayssac brought us to an incredible bastide village, with of course, a pub and eatery!

This is Le Couvent in Belaye. A truly stunning location for a cheeky chilled white and an evening meal.

Made some lovely memories catching up with friends. The multi-purpose of this blog is to keep my memories safe … the ‘little grey cells’ cannot be relied upon sometimes.

So, two weeks flitting around The Lot has as always been an adventure. Our accomodation there was a bit ‘Butlins’ but we were happy enough. And I had the pool there to myself. Apparently it was way too cold for the ‘locals’. Clearly they haven’t spent enough time in the North Sea.

South Western France and the Basque Country awaits…