but only 2 more days and then we are back to Hurlford for a few days before returning to the freakish heat that is Texas 😦
Our week in Hurlford ended with a brush with the tale end of Hurricane Katia which created large waves at Troo, some rain and delayed our flight to Amsterdam which in turn delayed our flight to Nantes.
When I last wrote we going to the folk festival in Troon but after a meal at the local Indian, every where seemed quite, probably due to the approach of Katia, so Gordon and Alex decided that a local bar with good beer was a much better choice.
We have been to so many places in the pass week, everything has been going around like a blur. We arrived in France at about 11.30pm (we had planned on 4pm, thanks Katia!) so Gordon did his magnificent best and drove approx 150 klms to our hotel in Baud as Mum’s new kitchen was being installed. The road was empty! so our trip was much quicker than we expected.
The next day we drove up to my Mum’s house and saw the chaos they were living in, making staying there impossible. We had lunch at a local transport restaurant where you get about 6 courses with wine for 10.50f. Brilliant food, nothing like motorway cafes in the UK.
Originally our intention was to look at houses in France for a day but due to the ongoing Kitchen situation we browsed the local estate agent windows in the afternoon and tried to figure out if was actually viable, given that we are at least 10-12 yrs from retirement 😦
After an afternoon of wandering about Baud and some other local towns we spend the evening in a bar. Surprisingly it was very quite and to be honest we thought we would be back at the hotel by 9.30. However we failed to take into account a very talkative local Breton who used to a fisherman. With aid of a pencil, our poor French, his poor English, a couple of paper place mats and a very rough drawn map we had a very enjoyable 2 hrs.
The next morning with the Kitchen saga continuing but near completion, we set off for the west of Brittany, the Finistere region. Our first port of call was a town called Locronan which was similar to a national trust property. The town seems to have be preserved and occupied by artisans who are regulated by a local board. It was a beautiful afternoon and the sun was shining but unlike Texas, it wasn’t too hot to walk around. We got a lovely gift for our eldest daughter to celebrate her engagement which was hand crafted in the shop we bought it from. Locronan, main square