The wind bounced us around again during the night here in rural Chusclan, but at least we didn't hear the rhythmical sound of frogs or whatever, from the river which can't be too far away. On past nights it has sounded like a Louissiana swamp.
We awoke to the sound of amplified music and a chap on a tannoy not too far away, turned out it was from the sports stadium across the adjacent field. The plan today was to scrub up then pop in to the village just in case the boulangerie was open, buy a baguette, get back, make up a picnic then have a nice walk around the vineyards on the marked trails.
Well firstly the boulangerie was closed, so no fresh crusty bread today, and to top it all the 'walk through the vineyards' was in fact a race for the super-fit with nothing better to do on a Sunday morning.
To help fill the day we'd take the cameras out with us and take a closer look at the event.
There they were, running their little hearts out through vineyards and village and along the local roads. I was not best pleased. These people had ruined what could have been a really nice day out for us. There were two trails, 13km and 26km. We wandered down to the Finish Line to see some of the slightly mad from the 13km trail arrive back having set off at 09:00. Later, the completely barking mad who set off on the 26km trail at 09:45 were being rounded up at the finish by people in white coats holding very large butterfly nets.
Those finishing the course were able to help themselves to a free glass of beer and a pastry, we then regretted not having come out wearing shorts and 'T' shirts, we might just have got away with collecting a free beer and cake.
I don't know who won the race, but I hope when they collect the first prize of something like a tofu, broccoli and seaweed salad, they choke on it. They cost us a much anticipated walk in the vineyards.
Having wandered through the village on the way back we came across a mum and her very young daughter selling punnets of cherries by the roadside. We'd seen a chap picking them from the adjacent trees when we popped down for the baguette earlier. The Chef suggested we buy some, at least we knew where they came from, and they did deserve some reward for not being closed for lunch.
In the absence of a fresh baguette, lunch today was a selection of cheeses, including Cheddar and Red Leicester, bought along with us because the French don't/won't sell it, accompanied by various savoury biscuits washed down with some 'Coat Door Own'. This was followed by the traditional nap in the glorious sunshine, marred only by this incessant cool, often strong, gusty wind coming from the northwest. Perhaps one of my old meteorological shipmates can tell me what it's called, it won't ease our suffering of course, but sometimes it's nice to know.
This evenings meal has been a ham salad without the lovely crisp, crusty baguette, though it has been thoughtfully substituted by the crumbly bits from the bottom of a large bag of 'Lays' crisps, just to give the meal a bit of crunch.
Dessert for The Chef was a small handful of washed cherries, for me two handfuls of unwashed cherries, cut in half to remove the stones and then covered in good old Carnation Evaporated Milk. I do so hope that cherry picker chap washed his hands before he started.
Tomorrow we are back on the road heading north on a fairly short journey to Orange. My thinking is that if French motorhomer's have come away for the Bank Holiday weekend then they will be vacating the campsite before we arrive.