It was probably that we were mindful that those pesky Canadians had forced us to travel at breakneck speed for a few days, or it may have been the rigours of long distance train travel, that hour spent being whisked through the countryside at two hundred kilometres per hour can tax one, but whatever the reason we unanimously decided that a slow start would be quite appropriate.
When we eventually stirred, we remembered that some friends had recommended a little lunch cafe in the next town along the canal and despite it being already inarguably some considerable time past the hour normally described as "lunch", we decided to make a move.
Four kilometres by boat seemed to us to be a not overly taxing day, even with a couple of locks thrown in, so without fear of "overdoing" it we set off on a long and unremarkable amble through the village, failing entirely to find the ruins of the chateau, the crypts from Roman times and probably half a dozen other historical artefacts of world heritage significance. We did cross the bridge that has been providing service to the likes of ourselves for one and a half millennium, and we did find the restaurant too.
It was closed till lunchtime of course.
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