The decision has been made and plans are afoot.
It’s probably the wee drop of summer we have been having for the last week or so, but our thoughts are turning towards a holiday or two.
We are not being too ambitious so like astronauts preparing for a shot at the Moon, we are going to just attempt an Earth orbit first. So our plan is to aim for West Cork this year. Then if all goes well we’ll have a go at France again next year. Our last break was five years ago so it’s time for a little change of scenery.
West Cork should be no problem. The woman [who owns several cottages in the area] knows us well and allows us flout her rules, no problem [no pets, no smoking!]. She knows Penny so has no problem there. She has never actively mentioned the smoking but I know she knows!
Properties around Sarlat-le-Caneda in France are no problem at all. We know the area fairly well having been there four times, the last time nine years ago. It is an incredible place when it comes to scenery, with Medieval towns and villages everywhere. The food ain’t too bad either [confit de canard avec frites! The mouth waters at the thought].
Just as a trial and even though it’s jumping the gun a bit, I had a quick look at accommodation in the area. The very first place I found looks ideal. It’s a small gîte on a quiet back road a couple of miles west of Sarlat. Perfect. Pets welcome. Smokers welcome. A civilised country.
I have no idea whether we will achieve either or both.
There’s no harm in dreaming?
I'll cross my fingers that both will work out beautifully!
Thanks. Sometimes dreams come true?
Those sound excellent prospects! It would good for that car of yours to get a good run out.
Any spare room for visitors in that petit gite? Maybe we should have a gathering of the Rambles clan, fuelled by confit de canard and lubricated with litres of the local grape-pressings.
See, we can all dream.
Ah, the things they do with duck.
Garbure, confit, foie gras.
with local wine and armagnac.
As in every country, the further you are away from the capital the nicer the people.
Just be sure they know that you are not English.
And you and I know that there is nothing more sterile than fresh fag ash, and don 't throw a wobbly when you see the cook has one hanging from his lip over your food.
Bon courage, mon vieux..
Don't see why not. I keep dreaming about winning the lottery and I'll bet you your dreams come true rather than mine.