Another cold, overcast and drizzly day. maybe the weather affects the populace, they all seem down-in-the-mouth, nobody will crack a smile.
Windmills and lots and lots of flat fields under a brooding sky.
And silence, wierd dead silence, no drone of trafic in the background, no aeroplanes, no machinery. Uncanny at times, unnerving for a city dweller used to the comforting hum of mechanised life all around.
Another long day, which ends in a village with a B and B. The owner is English, there are many English around here, every cafe and restaurant that I enter has them, waddling around, their French worse than mine. The small local restaurant has good food, the usual starter of beetroot and trout and I choose “Parmentier” of duck, a restaurant in England may call it “pulled-duck”, the desert is lemon-flavour Tiramisu, with Limoncello – yum. A couple of people do smile, briefly, between frowns.