THURSDAY 30^th JUNE Posted 3 weeks later.

Saonnet

Von spends the night kicking me so I wake feeling even grumpier than usual. Splendid croissants and lots of freshly squeezed OJ make a real difference.

We go shopping for fish at the market in Le Molay Littré, and Milo gets spooked by something. He is very anxious on the lead all through the market. Padi never acted like this. There’s a new Mini parked in the market; we are all surprised by its ugliness, it looks like a small Hummer. It is considerably larger than the old Peugeot 406 family saloon parked behind it.

Nick, Susan, Von & Milo at Le Croix, Saonnet

Back to La Croix to put the fish in the fridge for tonight’s dinner, then off through drowsy summer lanes to Port-en-Bessin where we have lunch en plein air. I have to ask for the awning to be pulled down to protect my fragile little head from the blistering heat of a Normandy summer sun.

We tour the lanes admiring the chateaux from a respectful distance while Nick and Sue regale us with anecdotes about their friend Jean-Luc, who turns out to be a holder of the Legion d’Honneur and the general who led the French attack on Iraq. He wears new socks every day, emblazoned with cartoon characters. Mentioning that we’re looking for an espagnolette for our french window in London, we get to visit a brocante and then an amazing place called a Dépôt Vente, which I had never encountered before. Apparently they exist throughout France. People lug their unwanted goods there and set a price. Then Brits go there and buy them, although one can negotiate. The stock largely consists of giant armoires big enough to hold the clothes of an entire family, but hidden in a corner I discovered an ancient pair of espagnolets, as they are called in France. The only source of espagnolettes (English spelling) in London is the locksmith Franchis, where the one they offer retails at £430 + VAT. These two are for sale for €8. Not many second thoughts, then. We buy them, even though they need a bit of work.

Milo goes to the vet in Bayeux for his pre-ferry check. A pretty little French vet is delighted to be able to practice her English, and murmurs all the right compliments about him. Throughout the trip everyone has remarked on how Clean he is. €55 to get the requisite stamps in his passport. We pass on the Bayeux Tapestry as we saw it in 1976, and don’t need to see it again. Been there, done that.

We tour the Kennedy estate. They have a terrific gîte with four bedrooms which they’re not too bothered about letting, which seems a shame as it’s really peaceful and is bathed in setting sunlight. There is also a wonderful dilapidated dépendance, ripe for restoration but needing €70,000 to carry it out, always a hurdle. All in good time. In a field at the back they have three lovely donkeys, Qiqi, Tisane and Emma, named after opera characters. I have to take this on trust, since I don’t know my Parsifal from my Melba.

Von & Milo meet Qiqi, Tisane & Emma

Susan, Von and Gwyn shell peas in the evening while Nick cooks sea bass. Getting back up to speed (we haven’t seen them for over a decade) Nick tells us of his lecture tours on cruise ships in the Black Sea, the correct pronounciation of Sebastopol (SevvaStopple, a Tertius Paeon not the Anglicised Secundus Paeon) and the wimpishness of British book publishers (Susan is an editor). Susan describes being prescribed morphine by a doctor who could. She said that coming down she itched frantically for two days. Wisely, we pass on the Arquebuse for tonight and Gwyn & Nick doze in front of BBC satellite telly instead.

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