Legends from our own lunchtimes

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

The village plan at Einville du Jard summed up our day really. Faded in bits already, hand coloured in others, soft and mellowed.

When I woke the mist was rising from the water in a glorious pink. Glorious enough for me to think about creeping to the other end of the boat to get my camera, but not quite glorious enough to make me do it. Fortunately, as happens with these things, the pink soon faded and the opportunity was lost, so I remained snug for another hour.

We stayed once again near Somerville, a village which is difficult to describe as it is as old as it is new, it has a church with bells that ring but it has no bakery, so as we walked its streets in the evening the houses had bags hanging from their doors in anticipation that they would be filled by morning by the travelling boulanger.

It must be hell living there on Christmas morning. I worry about the kids racing to see what Santa's left for them only to find two baguettes traditionelle in the bags on the door.

It was a day of worry about kids really, the nice young boy who failed to sell us a fruit pies in the lock, and the pair taking ropes for us and pretending that the glittery platypus sticker was as good at the Euros that the German boats throw them, and as well, a day of catching up with friends on the water and in the shade at Einville.

We ate half their fruit pie, and felt happier for the kids, then satisfyingly vindicated when we heard that "their" special price was less than "our" special price, and listened to the church bells strike midday, and one.

And two.

We decided to soldier on, but had to stop somewhere near another village to make a coffee and listen to the bells strike four.

And now we are back, moored in our spot, listening to the church bells strike each hour and four times in between as well till ten, which is exactly now, and then a single strike till six.

It will soon enough be six, and they'll let us know it's an hour till seven when they'll get more urgent and tell us  we'd better get up.

But we probably won't.


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