We caught the ferry from Portsmouth last night and I slept soundly on the overnight crossing although I swear the cabin bunks are getting narrower and harder. The boat docked at Caen at 6.45 a.m. so we had to be out of our cabins by 6.15 a.m. We found our way back to our car and then had to wait an age to disembark. I amused myself by trying to decide whether the guy in the Smart car alongside us was wearing a toupee or if it was his real hair. Either way it was a very bad style. Paul said that anyone who drove a Smart car has no taste.
We had an uneventful drive down through France, the countryside was green and lush and there was an abundance of bright yellow broom everywhere. The cucumbers were happy to be travelling again and were joined by several pots of lobelia.
“Why didn’t we buy a place in Brittany, it would be a lot nearer?”
“Because we wanted the sunshine.”
We rolled into our courtyard just after 3.00 p.m. and were welcomed by a glorious show of roses on the barn wall and a good crop of strawberries in the potager. The sun is shining, the temperature is 30 degrees and it’s good to be home.