I set off yet again this morning with high hopes and my passport in my pocket so that I could finally cash in the last of the damned travellers’ cheques, and guess what? - although most places closed for the Assumption on the 15th , banks traditionally take the 16th as well (and seeing as the 17th is a Sunday, I can kiss goodbye to my money until 9am on Monday).  This is seriously the last time I muck about with travellers’ cheques. Thank goodness I am not relying on them, I would have spent the whole weekend penniless!  As it was, I decided that I would have to try putting my debit card in an ATM and get some money that way.  I did this with a little trepidation, as I would much rather have tried this for the first time when the bank was open, just in case there was a problem and it ate my card.  However, I chose a bank that advertised that it took Visa, popped my card in the slot and was immediately asked which of 5 languages I would like to work in.  Within mere seconds, I had 200 € in my hand and was ready to go shopping.  I love IT almost as much as I hate French banks!

Most of the shops were open today and the centre of town was animated and crowded again, unlike yesterday when it was like Tombstone waiting for the outlaws to ride in! (Wind whistling, tumbleweed, the odd starving dog etc.) I had a thoroughly nice morning wandering around the various shops buying meaningless bits and pieces (the obligatory mug for work, the inevitable themed magnet for the study, a posh corkscrew etc.)  

I kept trying to talk myself out of lunch, so that I would be really hungry for the evening meal, but my feet were tired and I fancied a long sit down, so I ended up back at Baker Street for a Salade Lyonnaise (eggs, bacon and croutons! – if it hadn’t been for the lettuce it would have been a full English breakfast!) and a spit-roasted coquelet au jus de thym to follow.

Duty done, I hauled my bulk off to the Musée des Beaux Arts and spent an hour or two wandering around their various collections and exhibitions.  Some very interesting stuff (especially the paintings and gallo-roman history sections but rather too many ceramics for my taste).  The high spots to my mind were two statues; one of an artist contemplating his clay and the other of three girls on a bench.  I secretly photographed them both and bought postcards.

After the Musée and with lunch beginning to go down, I did a little more shopping (over an hour in Forum Espace, a sort of Fnac, full of books, CDs and DVDs) and then had a Perrier at my favourite watering hole before checking my mail at the Internet Café.  I passed through the Place des Promenades Populle (a small tree-lined park near the station) and noticed that the ground was strewn with leaves, brown in the sun.  It all looked truly autumnal until I realised that this was August, not November!  The heat must be getting to the trees as well.

By now my feet were killing me, (in fact my right ankle was playing up and I had started limping) and the sky was looking very ominous, so back to the hotel for some pain-killers and a ring-side view from my window of a major thunderstorm and downpour.  Fortunately, it had stopped again by mid-evening and the air was cool and fresh.  My ankle had calmed down and I set off again to see if I could face eating anything.  It turns out that I couldn’t.   I went over the railway bridge for the first time and found that La Petite Auberge was still there and still looked the same (closed of course – was that because of the rain? the jour férié? fermeture annuelle? sheer indifference? Who knows?)  I ended up with a grand crème and a bottle of iced mineral water to take back to the hotel, where I promptly broke the shower. (The attachment that held the shower head on the wall broke in two when I turned the water off).  It must have been cracked before - all I have to do is convince Mme of that tomorrow.

I shall read my book and make preparations for an excursion to the Gorges de la Loire in the morning.

Next Day >>

<< Previous Day