After eight

Organising an outing to a market we arrived at the wrong square after it had finished. Undaunted, we retreated to a bar with a newly acquired cucumber to plan our next move.

Next stop the swimming lake at La Jamaye. A warm, brown expanse of water delimited by yellow 'floteurs' and full of teeming humanity.

Spread in the diminishing shade of a few trees we picnic-ed on travel rugs, at the feet of Richard's throne, and dozed through afternoon.

Later we shopped - confit de canard for tonight - and went to the wine shop of our host's cousin. A jolly fellow, we left with six bottles to try. And we tried them.

After dinner, Claire played a game with the kids, where you stick a warm After Eight to your forehead and then try to get it into your mouth without using your hands. Many were eaten, but not according to the rules. There will be chocolate stains on many pillows tonight.