The Picnic

Verdun is unfortunately situated in a hollow which means it isn't possible to travel far before there is a big hill to climb.
And so it was this morning as we hit the road for today's Semaine picnic. Enroute, his Lordship and I made a detour to visit the Osserie with the bones of soldiers not buried in the surrounding graves and then the Fort du Douaumont which was a garrison for the French but was captured by the Germans before being recaptured by the French. It is in a strategic spot,high up, with an amazing view of the surrounding countryside.

With the climbing finished for the moment is was a pleasant cycle along through woods and rolling fields of harvested wheat and barley and corn fields standing tall with cobs not yet ripened.

The grass verges were thick with wild flowers, pink, mauve, purple, blue, yellow and white, and all the while the cows, cream on one side of the road and black and white on the other side, lay contentedly in the sun chewing the cud.
It's my archetypal image of France.

We reached the picnic spot which was so overflowiing with people that we chose to sit in a harvested field on our own with homemade baguettes filled with camembert cheese.

Then it was homeward bound, thankfully down hill, passing German cemeteries with their stark iron crosses, flower free and commanding in their simplicity.
I, as a war baby, and brought up in my early years to think of Germany as the enemy, have had to adjust to the fact that they are now our allies and they also suffered enormous casualties during the wars. Apart from that, I have grandaughter who has a German grandmother. Such is the passage of time and the pointlessness of war.

Now back at the hotel after a shower and a rest, we are getting ready for tonight's Son et Lumiere, especially put on for the cycling Semaine. It will be a late night but we have decided not to cycle tomorrow, so I may be allowed to have a long lie.

Lycra and cycliing helmets don't exactly flatter!