And the time moves on ... part 2

So June, July and August came and went. My Irish passport arrived, the bees continued to exclude me from part of the garden and the fruit harvest, except for the apricots, was looking quite poor with the hot dry weather. An ache in my right leg which had been annoying me since Christmas continued and I started having problems with my eyes watering ... the joys of ageing. Once the work project had been completed, time flew by to September and 'The Grand Tour'.

I won't recall the endless rows we had about navigation but we have agreed our joint Christmas present this year will be a new whole-Europe satnav with free uploads for life and I'm going update my detailed country atlases as well, as I like to choose my routes, not be told where to go by some computer system, no matter how clever it is. Apart from that, the trip down was reasonably ok, but the food was not great. In Arc-en-Barrois we stayed at the Hotel le Parc, full of stuffed stags heads and skulls! The hotel was quintessentially  'Logis' style, but the food was disappointing, especially the game dish we had. Curiously, as we left the following morning P spotted a restaurant with an LGBT flag flying outside it which she thought might have been more interesting! The second night was at Mas d'Helene near Vaison la Romaine which was rather femininely, florally, pretentious. The meal was tasty but curiously unmemorable. We saw the 'Brake' van arrive the following morning. Brake Bros is a commercial catering firm started in Ashford and it provides bars and restaurants with 'instant' meals and also operates in France. I found the uninteresting food frustrating, which is something for another post, possibly. We had a nightmare drive revisiting Mont Ventoux on the Saturday due to the number of cyclists as there was a Dutch cycling competition going on. While I have every admiration for cyclists tackling such a tough route, the sheer numbers made driving conditions very difficult. After shopping in Draguignan, a military town, we arrived in Seillans late afternoon but found it really hard finding the villa as a Swiss neighbour had 'privatised' the road with signs etc. It was only on reading the villa information after we had settled in that we discovered he had no right to do such and was to be ignored! But nothing mattered, the villa was near-enough perfect for us. All the plans for me to go off walking came to nothing, as lazing by the pool and just unwinding from the work was all that was needed.

On Sunday afternoon P decided to walk into the village and get us pizzas and I said I would use the opportunity to take some Nikki in swimdress photos. That turned out to be quite traumatic as although the villa was mostly hidden on a quiet lane, a French couple insisted on attracting my attention.

The 'flight or fight' response kicked in and, perhaps after being out and about in Ireland, I decided to confront the couple. There was no way I could 'pass', so taking the bull by the horns I approached the woman and pleasantly said I was transgender as a form of explanation for the apparition I must have presented! All was smiles and they went on their way (we discussed it afterwards and concluded they were the same people P had met and they were trying to find an address ... well they found a man in a dress, instead! P was quite concerned for me when I told her. If anything, that broke the ice and three times after that I dressed and swam and posed while P was there and she didn't turn a hair; neither did the red squirrels that kept raiding the walnut tree in the garden.

 We spent most of the time eating in and just relaxing, but did have one long day out, revisiting Bargeme, where we had stayed in the late '80s and the Grand Canyon du Verdon, which we first saw in 1972. On the way back we drove along the south side of the Canjuers military base, which was one of those curious 'Indian country' places. It was only later that I read this must be where Posh and Becks had had an estate!
We had pizza again during the week before splashing out for a final meal at La Gloire de Mon Papa, which was recommended, and yet ... it wasn't that great and was expensive. The pizzas were the better value. On the Saturday we left for Italy ... in part 3!