Alors!

Those lyrics yesterday…Tunnel of Love by Fun Boy Three if anybody was wondering.

Today’s starter for ten:

Where the mountains meet the sea
And light spits stains on the scenery
And the air is heavy with the sticky unease
I wish for my world of make believe

As the bell on the church clock chimed out the hour of ten, we assembled in a straight line and stood to attention outside the blue front door of L’Enfance de Lard. Upon the tenth chime, the door creaked open and André appeared with his basket, ready for the market. Off we went with a far-la-la and a hey-nonny-no.

Market shopping: one duck stuffed with orange, one bunch of carrots, one weird thing that’s a cross between broccoli and cauliflower, one bunch of radishes, a generous handful of lambs lettuce (mache?), country paté, dandelion leaves, a selection of cheeses, grapes, three polyanthus plants, a fondue set and some wine goblets. Didn’t we do well?

A well earned coffee woke us up from our market dream, and we went home laden with purchases. I walked with the folks up to the weir and back, we had lunch and then set off to Monbazillac for a wine tasting - but what do you know? It was closed. After me leading the disappointed party through a particularly muddy car park, thereby gaining a few inches but losing a few hard-earned popularity points in the process, I redeemed myself by locating a Monbazillac wine warehouse nearby where we were provided with generous samples of the sweet sticky stuff. When the nice woman dishing out the samples first came over where we were waiting she said, ‘Alors,’ to which dad said, ‘Allo to you too!’ We returned to the house proudly clutching our booty and getting some funny looks from passers-by.

A few hours recuperation and a spot of word-crunching before dinner at L’Enfance de Lard. The things I put myself through so that other people have a nice holiday, I ask you. It’s not easy being me. We munched on dandelions with confit de canard and Tomme, duckhearts with pineapple and peppers and various tarts. Three veg were introduced to the menu to keep the Brits happy, and that seemed to do the trick. We zig-zagged home at some ungodly hour, happy as sandboys knee-deep in sand.