It's a bit like a real live version of that old joke about the best part of Melbourne being the road to Sydney.
As we walked around it there were all sorts of hints of mildly interesting things, curious graffiti, wall art, African art, flags and posters from all nations posted purposefully in odd corners of the town, signs everywhere that may or may not have promised things of interest in its vicinity, but every sign pointed to a village not far away.
Too far to walk perhaps, but not far by most other measures none the less. Once again we were thwarted by the fact that our brand new bicycles are in Belgium and therefore a hop skip and a jump too far away to be of practical assistance.
Every cafe in town was supposed to be closed, today being Monday and they did not disappoint, except for the one which normally opened on Mondays, and it was closed "exceptionally". We were thankful we weren't actually looking forward to eating in one of them, and wondered if we had had our bikes, would we have used them to track down one of the promises from an adjoining village, or was it simply a ruse to make us think the place was interesting.
We couldn't stand the strain of thinking about it all day, so wrote "explore this village later" on our chart, and slipped ever so quietly away, so as not to wake the restaurant proprietors from their mid day slumber.
Not terribly far beyond the village that "Attila the Hun set out from by boat in 452 after the defeat of the village Favernay" we found near solitude in the village of Fouchecourt, noted only for its harbour which will hold fifteen boats, and according to the harbour master who is also the proprietor of the attached restaurant named unsurprisingly "the Little Port", that is exactly the number of houses in the village and he assured us there is nothing else to see for for many kilometres.
"Do you have bicycles?" he asked.