Steam train
A chat to Lucy this morning, the owner of the place we are staying. Her son who has passed his A
levels with flying colours, is now trying to work out which University to go
to. In England or Scotland.
Into the old steam train, and it was full of children as
well as adults from lots of different places. It twisted about between forested
hills, and stopped at three stations before reaching the town of Anduze which we
drove through on the way. I particularly liked it when the train drove through
the tunnels (all the windows were wide open) and several adults on our coach
started making hou! noises like wolves in the dark. At one point you could hear
screaming in the dark from other carriages too, but all done in fun. Took lots of snaps from the train en route.
Then a return journey to St Jean du Gard and we were
desperate for cold drinks and happy to sit in the car with its air
conditioning. It is a black purposeful looking fiat, which is larger than the
wee one Lorraine ordered. Lorraine dealing well with the driving, although a
bit nervous, and having to negotiate lots of roundabouts and the odd hairpin
turn on hills.
Home and a plunge into the pool to cool off and a swim,
which was lovely.
Back to the little patio open from the kitchen, where I had
a some cold Heineken and read more about poet Léopold Sédar Senghor (one of the
fathers of the Negritude movement). Then have a bit of a doze. Woke to have a
tasty supper, and play Lorraine at Scrabble. I won tonight, handsomely. We ate like kings. I cleverly decided to
drink no wine tonight, but as before finished the day watching the French
ladies handball team get through to the final.
I feel like I know them.
Below a view up the river Gardon, the war memorial, scenes on and from the train.
Below a view up the river Gardon, the war memorial, scenes on and from the train.
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