The River

The river ("Le Thiou") that flows out of the lake and past our joint looks more like a canal. It is concreted/enstoned. It runs right up to and past the buildings on each side. It is about 10 metres wide, but its depth varies. Little bridges dart out from between the Very Old buildings and a family of 11 ducks (ie nine chicks) skitch busily around and about. [Pete's duck Vic would love it here in spite of the obvious language barrier.]

When I say the water depth varies, I mean that it varies from day to day, and not from spot in the river to spot in the river. The other day a hunky young chap waded into the river to retrieve some token that a jeune fille had dropped off the bridge. He waded in at top-of-leg level. The next day he would have done it in ankle-level. The lake seems to be kept at some optimal level and there is some mechanical device or other that appears to facilitate adjustment to it. All part of a Cunning Plan, I bet!

The clear water rushes past us at a great rate. Downstream it passes under a church and here you can observe hundreds of little fishies swimming about, pointing upstream in search of food. You can bet that most of them will grow to be big fishies and be caught and eaten by the Simple Fisher Folk who can be observed in their boats or on the banks with their long fishing poles and loads of optimism.

Jude and I have just returned from having hair cuts - "Rambler Cuts". Jude's is 'Verair Frairnch' and looks smashing. Mine looks as it always does after a cut, but with a certain 'Rambler' touch. It has its own brand of grouseness.

I'll leave you to ponder how we look as we go off on another cycling adventure ...

See yas!

Groom