the joys of returning

Saturday: THERE IS LITTLE LEFT TO TELL. We are away once more from our Castelnaudary stop over before daylight has fully taken hold but despite varying our route a little, still fail to find an open bar (or any closed ones) for our breakfast coffee (no food, please – no sandwiches – I could not touch a crumb) in any of the rather dowdy Minervois roadside villages we pass through. My assertion that there will be nothing before Capestang once more rings true. At least there, we know from past experiences, there will be at least two bars pleased to see and supply us. And so it comes to pass. Good old Capestang. We can sit outside with grand crêmes and take our ease one last time on this voyage!

By now Mme Melling thinks it is time to check out the lie of the land in Sablet, so uses the marvel of her smart phone to fire off a message to fellow Sabletonians already ensconced and announce our approach to PACA84. The intelligence flashes back– it is raining heavily in Sablet, but notwithstanding, would we like to sup with the Roberts upon arrival? You bet we would. We of course are sitting out under blue skies but I am keen to engage with precipitation (I am known as a lover of a good downpour, me) so we ship out of good old Capers, in the Beziers direction, with the Mediterranean glittering in the distance, to where we pick up the A9, toll notwithstanding, and head off in the direction of Orange. The autoroute is but moderately busy and once we have our ultimate destination closer at hand we feel less inclined to go wandering off in the direction of Uzès, as originally planned. Needless to say, and as foretold, the skies are of a threatening aspect – we are soon under falling rains and into flying spray. Add to this an almighty clogging up of the autoroute just before we are supposed to slip road off it, and the ensuing chaos at the Orange toll barrier due to folk trying to get past whatever obstruction is bringing the A9 to a standstill, by leaving it —well, it delays us. 

No matter! We get some milk and butter and arrive at 1rueFB at 1300 hours precisely. The rain has stopped and the sun is out: all is well and supper is just round the corner (thank you Keith and Liz, because by now there may just be a lessening of our antagonism to 'solids'… ) after a good cup of tea, unpacking and opening up, we are ready for Liz's chicken, social intercourse and the general satisfaction of being back in Sabbers reacquainting with other fans of this wee village in the Vaucluse.

F  I  N

footnote: if you just don't have the time or patience for all this twaddle (and yet have somehow reached this spot) you might prefer the simpler yet equally erudite postings of Mme Melling's blog. She gets to the point you see and takes pictures of a more informative kind… here is a link: le blog It's a life choice decision and only you can make it. 

The flowers below were growing in Capestang by the way.  I was taken by their intense blue…