It was almost one in the morning when the phone rang.
I hadn't been asleep for long I must confess, thanks to those pesky Canadians keeping us up, but it was just long enough and deep enough so that I was completely disoriented when the friendly Australian voice on the other end asked me what the weather was like. (You know who you are!)
For those among you who understand that time is slightly different on this side of the world, and kindly waited until now for a report, it was a a brilliantly warm, mostly fine day, of the sort that is best suited for sitting for much of the day at a picnic table under a shady tree with good friends, chatting with passing cyclists and simply watching the world go round.
When there's a year's worth of news to catch up on (except for the bits that were caught up on a week or two ago) what better place to do it than on the banks of a canal in yet another almost anonymous village in Burgundy.