Last night my host asked me what time I planned to leave in the morning. This is a reasonable and common question that's hard to answer: while I'm pretty flexible with my departure time, it's always difficult to know what the host's expectations are. Were they planning on going somewhere early, so they are hoping you won't leave too late, or do they normally like to sleep in and they're hoping that you won't be wanting to leave early. I try not to put them out of I can help it. Guessing that perhaps she was not an early riser, I asked her if somewhere between 8 and 9 would be OK? You could see in her face that she had been hoping I'd say something like 11:00, but she recovered quickly and said not to worry, she could go back to bed after I'd left.
In the morning at around 8:00, there she was, looking decidedly like she needed a lot more sleep. Definitely not a morning person I concluded. She'd made coffee and put a piece of supermarket sliced white bread in the toaster. Beats me why the French seem to like supermarket sliced bread (bought in a packet with the crust already cut off). After all, they have so many boulangeries making delicious fresh bread. They pride themselves in their famous crusty crunchy baguettes and then go to the supermarket and buy the exact opposite. We talked about this and that and then the conversation came around to the cat. She was very apologetic about the pee problem which to her credit she herself brought up, not me; her explanation was that this cat has been abandoned as a tiny kitten and raised by her instead of by a mother cat, so it hadn't learnt proper cat etiquette from its mother and as a result was in many respects a wild cat. Remembering the pissing-up-against-the-wall episode from yesterday, I could only concur.
 |
| Toilet reading |
Before leaving I visited the toilet (the one in the box between the kitchen and the lounge room). In the toilet cubicle were two baskets of books and magazines, presumably for those times when you just want - or need - to linger. Some interesting titles there: 365 Jokes, Pocket Edition Jokes - the Blonds, Culture for Dummies. This last one I can't see being sold a lot outside of France, but no doubt it makes for good toilet reading.
I am on the road by 08:30, before the supermarkets have opened, so I give up on my thoughts of buying some supplies. Just as well I have my emergency bananas, bought yesterday after George's abortive wine-buying attempts. It's a short ride today anyway. There's blue sky when I leave, which is promising given the forecast was rain. But it doesn't take long for ominously black clouds to start forming ahead of me. The sun is still shining and the colours are gorgeous but after a few warning spots of rain, the heavens open about an hour into my ride. So the last hour of my journey I get to enjoy riding in the pouring rain. Although it's unpleasant, I don't mind so much since I won't need to be dealing with trying to dry everything out in time for the next days ride.
 |
| Gorgeous light before the storm |
As I ride up to the font door the rain conveniently stops. I wheel the bike into the front room. There and back again.
 |
| Riding in the rain - almost there! |
No comments:
Post a Comment