Be that as it may, the villages and towns are still achingly pretty and occasionally, like yesterday we stumble upon ones that are full of life. Villareal on market day, the town (village?) full of stalls, selling perfectly ripe peaches and melons, clothes from the 'tibetan one size fits all -all tiny asians perhaps-...to long johns and granny knickers. And the food...oh the food, we had samosas..yes I know we are in france, but mine was chevre and tapanade..and gauffres (waffles) with nutella...mmm..Clearly we look like tourists and not just because of our very pale skin, but the french (apparently) do not snack, they must be more resistant to the lures of hot waffles with dripping nutella. The sun shone too in the market and it was a perfect french morning, everyone had their dogs on leads, the cafes full of people sitting sipping coffee, hunched over old ladies buying fruit for the day. Monsieur with the daily baguette and of course a busker playing accordion music alternating with edith piaf style husky french ballads.....it is wonderfully affirming to see every cliche and generalisation alive and well...Oh how I love France!
The temperamental sat nav is still as quixotic as ever. This time she has decided that she doesn't like main roads at all. So we are driving through the smallest roads possible. She did bring us through the biggest wheat field in existance...wheat to the horizon in almost every direction. I tried not to think of that old move..'children of the corn'...but I did drive just a little faster out of there,,,