Back in Barrou...

A lovely evening was had by all last night at the first soirée hosted by the new proprietors of the restaurant in Barrou. The atmosphere was warm and welcoming, and they did an impressive job serving up a barbecue meal to everyone, no small feat considering the turnout! Our table alone had 24 people! A good start even though the bar was a little overwhelmed,sure there will be lessons learned from the evening. 

Tour de France 2025.

 

With a group of friends, Pauline and I headed just 15 minutes over the border to a small spot just outside Coussay-les-Bois to catch a glimpse of this year’s Tour de France. I’d carefully selected a quiet little junction off the D725 on a very minor road, convinced we’d have it all to ourselves, the perfect place to see the peloton fly by up close.

How wrong was I ?

 

I had of course completely forgot about the sheer draw of this event. I’d forgotten just how deeply the Tour is woven into the fabric of French life and how many people, both locals and visitors, make it a tradition to come out, set up early, and soak in the atmosphere. By the time we arrived, the roadside was already buzzing. Campers, picnic blankets, folding chairs, kids with flags...the whole scene had a festival feel. Fortunately we had arrived early enough to bag a good roadside spot to set up,even if it meant walking through some scratchy undergrowth to get there.Our spot gave us a clear view of the road ahead and we settled in with the warm hum of shared anticipation. 

It was far from the quiet, secluded experience we'd imagined but  it proved to be a good enough choice even if we had to negotiate a small ditch to get actual roadside.

As the time passed, the atmosphere increased as the sun beat down from a near cloudless sky.  Then, in the distance you could hear the crowd roar as they caught sight of the caravane publicitaire as it roared into view, blaring music from oversized speakers and hurling trinkets into outstretched hands. It was part parade, part chaos with occasional dangerous things like cans of Orangina hurling towards us.

The family above had the clever idea of placing a target (back black above) which proved to be a real winner as many cars threw their trinkets directly at it! 

With a few hours still to go before the race arrived, we turned our attention to lunch, a proper picnic, with contributions from everyone.  We drank a toast to the day and the race (in true Tour fashion) with sparkling Vouvray followed by our picnic,one of those simple times made better by the anticipation in the air.

With the first low whir of helicopters a ripple of excitement swept through the crowd and moments later,that telltale shift in sound. The cheers rose in pitch, a wave rolling down the road. There had been a two-rider breakaway 5 mins (by Mathieu van der Poel and Jonas Rickaert apparently) which proved to be a wee bit of an anti-climax , but as soon as the peloton arrived the feeling was lifted. 

I took up a position on the roadside which allowed for some good (if too close) closeup shots.I captured the yellow jersey of Tadej Pogacar close up...he went on to keep his pole position after yesterday's race stage which was won by Tim Merlier.

The whoosh of tyres, bicycles slicing through the air and in a breath, they were gone!

You might be wondering why there was so much E. Leclrec sponsorship, they had parked a van opposite us and were handing out free T-shirts to anyone who wanted them. 

Mon banc dominical / My Sunday Bench...Foret de Preuilly.

Captured on our walk through the Foret de Preuilly.

Lovely vibe last night at La Halle Café in Boussay

 

 Angie Palmer took to the stage, armed with a guitar and a voice that never holds back, soulful, powerful, and full of heart.

Backing her up was the effortlessly cool Paul Mason on bass, calm, collected and keeping things grooving with style.

Above image courtesy of Norman

The café, already pretty charming on any given day, transformed into the coziest little concert hall, filled with hand-clapping locals, enchanted visitors, and possibly one or two folks who only popped in for a beer but ended up staying for the music.

Big thanks to Angie and Paul for turning an ordinary evening into a night of good vibes, great tunes, and the kind of magic that makes our little corner of France such a joy to live in.

Mairé Bistrot Guinguette

It was good to see such a great turnout at the  Bistrot Guinguette in Mairé on a lovely, warm summer evening. The Bards of Sweeney added their own contribution to the night with their rousing renditions of timeless Irish and Celtic pub songs. It was a true celebration of community, culture (if Irish), and friendship.

Pic. courtesy of Norman.

Searching for shade in Foret de Preuilly.and a doh! moment.

One of the joys of living here in Southern Touraine is the abundance of walking routes available to us. Yesterday, as the full sun rose once again into a clear blue sky, we decided that instead of doing Pauline's usual walk, we would head over to the Forêt de Preuilly in search of some shade.

On arrival, it seemed we had the forest to ourselves. We chose the aptly named path 'L’Ombre des Grands Chêne' (The Shade of the Great Oaks) as our route for the walk.

The path begins, however, with surprisingly little shade. For a long stretch, we walked under the full glare of the sun, the gravel crunching dryly beneath our feet. It wasn’t until the trail curved gently and dipped beneath a stand of tall trees that we found the relief of dappled shade.

There, under the protective canopy of the trees the air softened. The sun filtered through in scattered patches, dancing lightly on the ground ahead of us.  

We became a wee bit concerned about the lack of route markings and coming out onto another stretch under the full glare of the sun the only sound we could hear was Pauline asking "are you sure we know where we are going?" I’m not entirely sure why she would doubt my legendary route-finding skills but nonetheless, I sallied forth with confidence (or at least a convincing imitation of it). 

At one point, I picked my way along an overgrown side path, drawn by a glint of water through the trees. Pushing through the brambles and tall grass, I finally caught a glimpse of a large étang, its still surface shimmering in the sunlight. The only company it seemed to keep were some swans gliding silently across the water,

 Further along this part of the route we reached a crossroads with no clear signs. I defaulted to my usual 'safe bet', go left, on the logic that it’s better to choose a path that might lead you back to where you started!

I was eventually rewarded with a route marker, along with a smug little told you so moment. 

 We eventually arrived at a spot, the first of the day, that felt familiar. I remarked that David had once led our randonnée group from this very point up onto the road and back to the car park. Since we’d followed very few of our little acorn-fellow markers up to this point, we decided to trust him and follow, rather than take the road.

The path dipped into woodland again, cool and hushed, as if quietly approving our choice. We walked on, half-watching for waymarks, half-trusting we wouldn’t need them. 

The path wound gently through towering oaks, their thick canopies casting a welcome shade across the forest floor. The air was noticeably cooler beneath the trees and to our delight, we encountered marker after marker along the way. many of them not even strictly necessary, but reassuring all the same.

We were a wee bit surprised to eventually arrived back at where we had entered the trail and the realisation that,somewhat sheepishly. that this was in fact 'L’Ombre des Grands Chêne' and the rest of the walk was simply to get us here, doh! 

 After that, we took the familiar “let’s just head up to the road” route and followed it back to the Étang de Ribaloche, where our car was waiting without the keys locked inside but that's another story!.