Wednesday 5th September
Up early, well reasonably early, Beatrice very busy around the place whilst I checked out the computer, the skype settings, yahoo etc. Caught up with reading some of our emails. Then I got stuck into cutting the grass in the front of the house! All in, probably a quarter of an acre.
Elizabeth (good friend of V & G) called to say she would stop by the house to pick up the kitten at 3pm. Decided to let Pickle out, hoping that she wouldn’t run away. Guess what, she just disappeared but thankfully returned, however she brought a mouse into us and it was with some difficulty that we managed to get her to take it outside, returning to jump up on the chair, curl up and sleep.
Elizabeth called again to say she was coming over right away and to put the kitten into its carry box. With a bit of a struggle and a few scratches mission was accomplished.
Elizabeth was with Mark her divorced husband who lives in Paris, however they are still friends and visit each other regularly. Elizabeth is a local schoolteacher and Mark is retired.
They both speak perfectly good English, we established where she lived and was invited to call around at any time, which we will do.
Free to go out we decided to drive to Bleneau a small town bout 7 klms away. It was another small town with a few local shops and looked quite deserted, shutters on the house all locked up, not a soul around, after all, it was between those hours of 12 and 2,or maybe 3 or 4.
Drove on to St.Fargeau a further few klms away. This is a historic town, just like all the others, though here there was the Castle of Fargeau which has a history extending back over 10 centuries, which we ventured into. Magnificent grounds, lakes and woods surround it. It is in the process of being reconstructed after having being purchased by Michel Guyot in 1979. During July and August every Friday and Saturday evening they put on a re-enactment with a cast of some 600 actors and 60 riders, mostly locals, school children etc.1000 years of history is acted out in the large courtyard. This is one of the largest historical spectacles in Europe. What a shame we weren’t going to be able to see it. We heard the bell ringing and saw a few people gathering in the centre courtyard so went off to join them. It was a guided tour to the parts that we hadn’t been able to enter. It’s interesting in following a rapidly speaking French woman who gesticulated and had (nearly) everybody laughing and making comments. Needless to say were both a bit lost, but got the gist of it. In part of its history, the Lepeletier family purchased the castle in 1713 and Louis Michel by voting for the death of Louis XVI was assassinated by the royalists for his trouble. It’s strange to think that probably there were descendants of those who did all this still living in the town.
Drove back home through Rogny and were taken back a bit when the man who we had seen walking on the bridges when we had been staying there waved to us as we drove by in our Saab with our French number plates. We felt he had accepted us a one of the locals and of course we waved back.
Home again, after another busy day.
Up early, well reasonably early, Beatrice very busy around the place whilst I checked out the computer, the skype settings, yahoo etc. Caught up with reading some of our emails. Then I got stuck into cutting the grass in the front of the house! All in, probably a quarter of an acre.
Elizabeth (good friend of V & G) called to say she would stop by the house to pick up the kitten at 3pm. Decided to let Pickle out, hoping that she wouldn’t run away. Guess what, she just disappeared but thankfully returned, however she brought a mouse into us and it was with some difficulty that we managed to get her to take it outside, returning to jump up on the chair, curl up and sleep.
Elizabeth called again to say she was coming over right away and to put the kitten into its carry box. With a bit of a struggle and a few scratches mission was accomplished.
Elizabeth was with Mark her divorced husband who lives in Paris, however they are still friends and visit each other regularly. Elizabeth is a local schoolteacher and Mark is retired.
They both speak perfectly good English, we established where she lived and was invited to call around at any time, which we will do.
Free to go out we decided to drive to Bleneau a small town bout 7 klms away. It was another small town with a few local shops and looked quite deserted, shutters on the house all locked up, not a soul around, after all, it was between those hours of 12 and 2,or maybe 3 or 4.
Drove on to St.Fargeau a further few klms away. This is a historic town, just like all the others, though here there was the Castle of Fargeau which has a history extending back over 10 centuries, which we ventured into. Magnificent grounds, lakes and woods surround it. It is in the process of being reconstructed after having being purchased by Michel Guyot in 1979. During July and August every Friday and Saturday evening they put on a re-enactment with a cast of some 600 actors and 60 riders, mostly locals, school children etc.1000 years of history is acted out in the large courtyard. This is one of the largest historical spectacles in Europe. What a shame we weren’t going to be able to see it. We heard the bell ringing and saw a few people gathering in the centre courtyard so went off to join them. It was a guided tour to the parts that we hadn’t been able to enter. It’s interesting in following a rapidly speaking French woman who gesticulated and had (nearly) everybody laughing and making comments. Needless to say were both a bit lost, but got the gist of it. In part of its history, the Lepeletier family purchased the castle in 1713 and Louis Michel by voting for the death of Louis XVI was assassinated by the royalists for his trouble. It’s strange to think that probably there were descendants of those who did all this still living in the town.
Drove back home through Rogny and were taken back a bit when the man who we had seen walking on the bridges when we had been staying there waved to us as we drove by in our Saab with our French number plates. We felt he had accepted us a one of the locals and of course we waved back.
Home again, after another busy day.
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