If we had felt ambivalent yesterday about most things except the glorious catch-up with old friends, today we woke feeling strangely exhausted. Perhaps it was the food.
The walk to the station in the crisp morning air would normally have been enough to snap us out of that, but it was even less exhilarating than the coffee from the machine in the hotel.
By the time we arrived in Luneville, we felt a little fresher despite the long train journey, but perhaps that was due in part to the somewhat more caffeinated than expected coffee in Nancy en route, but whatever the case it was definitely the sort of day which improved with age.
Our friendly Atlas Radio Taxi man Gerard wasn't there to meet us though. It seemed he'd sent his affable cousin in an effort to share our wealth among his family. Without speaking a word of English, the affable cousin told us about his boat, our boat, his car, the car he'd like to have, and reminded us that Sarkozy is the devil incarnate. At least we think that's what he told us, and he seemed to enjoy the fact that we nodded in agreement whenever he asked a question.
Perhaps it was his interview technique that helped put us completely at ease for Barbara's visit much later in the evening.
Ahh, Barbara; the roving reporter for Saar Television wanting to do a feature on mad Australians who travel half way round the world to do nothing.
She left before midnight, we are sure she was none the wiser about how we can do nothing all week or even all month but seemed determined to film us doing it anyway.
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