Mr Rusty met Ermintrude by the roundabout

So, with the sunshine streaming in through the gaps in the shutters I decided this was no time to be sitting indoors waiting for Godot, so I extracted Mr Rusty from the veal shed where he had spent a comfortable night, and off we went on a brand new adventure.

The Lot landscape is quite different to that of the Dordogne. Vast open vistas across valleys and gently undulating roads make for a wonderful cycle ride. I headed off in a southerly direction and performed my usual trick of taking random roads until I hit a town. Trouble was, there were no handy signs directing me back home (as has always been the case with Bergerac), and as I had neglected to note where the house was on the map, I soon realised I was thoroughly lost. Did I panic? Nah, I just kept on going, taking first this little lane and then that, at one point following signs to a tiny hamlet called Goth, which I excitedly thought would be full of people dressed in black listening to The Mission. It wasn’t.

Countryside report: Today, as I cycled along windy country lanes through stick-bare vineyards I glanced up at the trees and spotted a lesser-spotted woodpecker (they’re not spotted as often as the greater-spotted woodpeckers which are forever getting spotted), its bright red breast and little red skullcap vivid in the bright sunlight. Later, as I crossed a babbling brook which ran beneath the lane, I noticed two large creatures crouched at the water’s edge. I stopped to get a closer look, and was intrigued to see a pair of coypu, like a cross between a miniature beaver and a large water rat. Eventually they noticed me (not difficult in day-glo yellow coat and helmet) and scrabbled away, disappearing into the water with two loud plops and a drum roll. A little further on I was delighted when a red squirrel deigned to cross my path. Once again I stopped, watching the little rusty-coated animal with its long, pointed face and tufty ears looking back at me from the safety of a high branch. I also saw plenty of brightly plumed jays, and enormous buzzards scanning the fields for prey from the handily positioned telephone lines.

That’s enough of that. Makes me feel like Chris Packham, but then I always did.

Eventually I found my way back, and after a hot bath and a delicious lunch we set off to explore some more of The Lot by car. We journeyed to Sals, Catis and then Douelle. At Catis, we went to look inside the church which was incredibly cold, slightly sinisterly so. Outside the temperature was fairly mild, but on entering the church you felt a deep chill – and you could see your breath. Really weird. At Douelle there was a giant mural on the harbour wall, which to be honest looked a bit like graffiti. We tried to get down to it for a closer look, but the ledge in front of it was so narrow, we chickened out.

With my navigation skills, and a few hooks and crooks we journeyed back to the house for another fine evening of delicious food and great wine. K and I worked on developing our idea for a new boardgame which we believe will make our fortunes, so I am unable to reveal the details here, for fear of great-new-boardgame-idea-thieves. It’s a corker.