After discovering that the lights in my room went out after 20 mins – reading in bed obviously not encouraged – I rose bright and early to pop off to the airport to meet Sherry. Now I know that if it says a plane is due in at 8.10, the chances of you seeing the person before 9 are slim to minimal. But 10.45????!!!!!!! The available coffee was also dismal and the pastry stale. I could have stayed at the hotel and had a proper breakfast for only twice as much. Ah well. Everything in France so far feels very expensive – I feel that the B word we are not allowed to mention may have something to do with the Euro being nearly at parity with the pound.

According to Sherry, apparently nearly 2 hours of the waiting time was on customs and the rest in baggage claim.

Next step, off to get the biggest hire car you have ever seen. Feels like some sort of tank and, as I have had to be on single lane roads for half the time, I feel glowered at by every French person in an ancient Citroen. Across the northern reaches of Paris on the extensive motorway network, coping with roadworks and tolls along with Sherry interpreting the sat nav – ‘ you need junction 16. 16!’ – we finally got to our gite for the night. Converted farm building, miles from anywhere. Literally so when the sat nav took us up an unmade up lane called La Route des Vaches. We didn’t actually see any cows but I’m sure they were talking about us.

On the way between the airport and here, we stopped at a cafe recommended on Tripadvisor for lunch. (https://www.ocopainsdabord.com/). Steak, salad, grilled courgettes and apricot crumble. I think she thought we looked like the sort of women who would order pudding!