April 27: The best day yet!

Today was a glorious day. We took a delightful, 18km stroll in fine weather. Our homestay is a beautiful old house, with a very welcoming host – 6 guest rooms with wooden floors and great views of the garden, where I am sitting now. There are 2 palm trees and a pool. Inevitably, as I was writing that, Carey stripped down to his shorts and jumped in, go-pro in hand. Expect the video soon…

Our host also offers laundry. We have piled our clothes into the designated bag and left it in the designated spot. It was my day for clothes washing, so I get a pass. We last had “robot laundry” in Lyon. It really couldn’t be better.

Our walk took us properly into Aveyron, out of Haute-Loire., still in the Aubrac, but we are already 150km from where we started. The snow-capped peaks of the Massif Central have finally dropped from sight. We spent much of the day walking in beech wooda: an absolutely splendid green of fully-functioning leaves and unfurling ferns. The spring is further ahead here than it was even over the hill yesterday. The hawthorn is budding or in bloom, so is the elderflower. The dandelion clocks are mostly set, rendering the fields white, rather than yellow. The wild strawberries, although not ripe are definitely setting fruit. We also walked passed some cow sex, so that’s going on too, fortunately, no video of that!

There are also different flowers: a lot more speedwell and buttercups; flax blooming in the verges; a “tufted grape hyacinth” like a thistleless thistle and the Einsele’s columbine, a striking, purple agualegia. The verges are also full of narcissi, not daffodils – wind-blown-looking, white blooms with short red-orange trumpets. In a domesticated bulb, I would call them “pheasant’s eyes”.

As today was a short one, we arrived just after midday, far too early to check-in. We initially sat on the main through-road in the astro-turfed “terrace” of the village’s single local bakery/café/snack bar. After a bit more of a reconnoitre, we found the square, complete with church, mayor’s office, pizzeria and brasserie. We settled in for a couple of “grandes bieres blondes”. It being lunchtime, the only available outdoor table was in full sun. After a valiant effort there at, we went indoors.

This was a quixotic experience: the ceiling was adorned with a tiny disco ball; the inner dining room was empty and on the wall behind me was an enormous TV screen playing “go-pro DJs” (which, sadly, was not a version of “extreme ironing”, where MCs played sweet tunes while snowboarding or whatever, but a sort of “kitchen disco” affair, where a serious man in black span records and pushed buttons, while also hand-dancing and nodding to the beat… All the while, the actual restaurant soundtrack was unaffected. Three beers (between two) in, we were weeping with laughter as we provided our own commentary to this very bizarre situation. Check out the album for the hilarity. It certainly passed the time.