Derelict? No, they're all like that!

Today we drove up for a fabulous lunch at the small "snail" village of Aigne, which is a medieval development from the eleventh century. 

The centre courtyard of the village holds the church and the upper hierarchy of homes, while the tightly turning and very narrow Circularde wraps around it offering the main residential area with a semi-fortified outer and gives the village it's nickname.

I came across this gate and immediately thought of Derelict Sunday, even though it's still in use as a gate. The colour is not rust but is painted on - was painted on - and has worn away. The small hole at the bottom, giving consideration to others nearby, is to allow the inquisitive house dogs to peer out at tasty passing ankles.

I wanted to put up a few extras, but the internet upload speed here is measured in bits per fortnight. I may add some later. 

And in other news, I've either been bitten or rubbed up against something nasty and my right arm from chest pectoral to finger joints is in agony. Antihistamine is in play but not really cutting it.