Volcanic ash arrived on the day before my journey. My Ryanair flight was cancelled, so I quickly arranged a bus trip to London and Eurostar from St Pancras to Bordeaux. Bang went my cheap flight, but at least I got here. Once my stiff neck, from sitting up in a bus all night, has eased out I'll be right as rain.
I slept a large part of Friday. It is almost unheard of for me to be in bed at 11.30am, but that's when I rose.
Saturday followed a familiar pattern - Ste Foy market in the morning and petanque in the afternoon. I just love petanque. I like the game - particularly when I play well, which I did - but I also like the chat. The folk who play are very welcoming, with one exception - a man, we have taken to calling Fanny. I doubt he reads this blog, but I'll not mention his real name just in case. However, he shares his name with a herb that goes particularly well with tomatoes. I christened him Fanny after beating him 13-0 in petanque one year - and what a delight that was.