Day 2 - the search for food...

..a theme that would become quite a prominent part of the holiday.

Having slept well after 36 hours without sleep, we were ready to face the prospect of replenishing our dwindling supplies of bread, milk, booze, fags and food, so a supermarket in the nearest big town seemed to be the best bet..

..apparently, in France supermarkets are closed on Sundays.

In fact, just about every shop in the town of Beaune was closed. Except the Tabac - whoopee!

We had a very nice meal in just about the only restaurant that didn't close for lunch, and as the afternoon kicked in, one or two shops did start to open including a boulangerie which at least solved the bread problem.

It had been raining on and off all morning, but by the afternoon the sun was out and it was beginning to heat up - I mention this only because that would be the last time we saw rain or mild temeratures for the next fortnight.

Yesterday's abortive shop meant that I was without a toothbrush which I had forgotten to pack so I peeled off from the rest of the party to go to the pharmacie to get one. I think my French is of an OK standard, and I was well able to pick up a toothbrush and say that I want to buy it - so after waiting ages behind some woman who seemed to having a problem picking the correct truss, quite a queue had built up behind me when it finally came to my turn. I said my bit as clearly as possible and offered the correct change when horror of horrors the bloody pharmacist started talking to me and gesticulating at the packet. After looking rather dumb I looked at what she was pointing at but couldn't make out what the writing said since I didn't have my glasses..
... apparently the toothbrushes come in soft, medium and hard and the pharmacist was only trying to point out that the brush I had chosen was hard and was asking whether that was what I really wanted. I was rescued by a Dutchman standing behind me who said "she's telling you that it's hard".
Now that I had the situation sussed I muttered "too fucking right" and then proceeded to patiently explain to the pharmacist in my best French that my oysters have stopped singing and the mountain is constipated. After that she accepted my money and let me take the toothbrush. I left the shop unfazed by the confused looks on the scores of onlookers who had come into the shop whilst this complicated international transaction was smoothly and effortlessley taking place.

On the way back to the house we took a little detour to see what was on the other side of the hill. Fields and clouds, it seems. Also sunflowers and breathtaking views.