Au revoir to the Loire

Today is our last day at the gite, tomorrow we head west to La Rochelle, to find French yachties. From there, south to Spain. We have been très contentes here, enjoying being semi-local when not being tourists. In the last few days we've added Chinon and Fontevraud to our list of tourist trophies. At Chinon there are a few people like us walking through the mediaeval town clutching guide books, but we spend much of our time sitting in the square eating another beautiful meal on a glorious sunny day, surrounded by French-speakers who look like the family taking Mum out on Sunday, or having a meal after shopping at the Sunday market, which was packing up as we arrived. There are small children playing in the fountain, mother rescuing the toy car from the water and drying the tears of the toddler who dropped it in. There is one middle-aged English couple nearby, also with elderly Mum, but they like us are exercising their French and amusing the waiters in the process.

On our way back from Fontevraud we decide to try navigating by map alone without the satnavs assisting, take a wrong turn in Tours and as a result see what the outskirts of large industrial city look like. A bit like Dandenong. We also drive to Chateau-Renault one day, a medium, non-tourist, not very prosperous town where for the first time we see lots of flats (not pretty, but not as ugly as most flats at home) and youth with tatts strolling around looking as though they don't have enough to do. We discover Bricomarché, the French equivalent of Bunnings, and make an overdue purchase of safety vest and warning triangle (mandatory for driving in France). We cross the road to the Intermarché supermarket and find the same gear at half the price. Merde. We decide our French isn't up to taking the overpriced stuff back to Bricomarché, just grit our teeth and note the lesson. Intermarché is cheap on everything, and we buy some good fruit there at less than market prices.

On our last evening we have dinner in front of the fire downstairs with Veronica and Talulah, enjoying food bought from the Amboise market, the local fromager de chevre and the boulanger in Chateau-Renault, washed down with a sparkling Vouvray and a Chinon red. Earlier at the goat cheese farm I make my halting way through an explanation that this is our last night at the gite and that we are dining with Veronica, and am rewarded with an extra piece of cheese, gratuité. I can just manage "Vous êtes très gentille" in response. We will be quite sorry to leave France, and wonder how we will go in a country where neither of us can manage much more than por favor. Watch this space.