Day 10
Things Fall Apart...The Centre Cannot Hold
Things Fall Apart...The Centre Cannot Hold
How to fit WB Yeats into the blog? Cometh the hour, cometh the man as Jim obliged us with a spectacularly dramatic and noisy outbreak of vertigo with associated reverse peristalsis which overwhelmed him first thing in the morning just as we were contemplating the day's exertions.
Tom was driven to a pharmacist in the nearby town of Savignac by Hugo, the very kind owner of our B&B ( who had worked at Le Gavroche in London in 2000 and lived in Peckham Rye).
When "la plume de ma tante" represents the limit of one's schoolboy French, discussing the finer points of neurophysiology and pharmacology was a mite tricky. But nothing daunted...It also seemed crucial to avoid our hosts calling out the Sapeurs Pompiers. In France the fire brigade acts as an ambulance service and the thought of a man with a hosepipe, in a country where the suppository is king, turning up at Jim's sickbed seemed to be an outcome worth avoiding at almost any cost.
For a mere €13 embarrassment was averted as we came away with oral (!) medicines one of which was rejected after consulting an online resource. The other seemed likely to hit the spot without turning Jim into even more of a wreck and indeed rapidly had the desired effect as he fell asleep allowing the rest of us a moment of peace.
Tom was driven to a pharmacist in the nearby town of Savignac by Hugo, the very kind owner of our B&B ( who had worked at Le Gavroche in London in 2000 and lived in Peckham Rye).
When "la plume de ma tante" represents the limit of one's schoolboy French, discussing the finer points of neurophysiology and pharmacology was a mite tricky. But nothing daunted...It also seemed crucial to avoid our hosts calling out the Sapeurs Pompiers. In France the fire brigade acts as an ambulance service and the thought of a man with a hosepipe, in a country where the suppository is king, turning up at Jim's sickbed seemed to be an outcome worth avoiding at almost any cost.
For a mere €13 embarrassment was averted as we came away with oral (!) medicines one of which was rejected after consulting an online resource. The other seemed likely to hit the spot without turning Jim into even more of a wreck and indeed rapidly had the desired effect as he fell asleep allowing the rest of us a moment of peace.
Tom and Helen spent some of the morning walking around the village viewing the manor, a church, a water mill and some interesting road works.
In the afternoon Tom and Helen cycled the 10km to Tourtoirac to view the Abbey. Impressive from the outside, inside it was a sad and dusty ruin, over-restored in the 19th century and allowed to run to seed since.
Far more impressive was the boulangerie where we bought cakes from a jolly, plump and flour coated lady baker who showed us the 200 year old oven and a fine collection of long handled shovels for getting the loaves out.
Getting back up the hill out of Tourtoirac in intense heat was a bit of a trial but we were soon up high with a cooling breeze and had the joy of a fast downhill dash back into Coulaures and a near disastrous collision with Verity who had abandoned her wifely duties in favour of a walk.
We now await Jim's recovery and the continuation of normal service.
Km cycled: 20 (10 in the wrong direction)
Injuries: Jim deeply indisposed
Mechanicals: nil
Injuries: Jim deeply indisposed
Mechanicals: nil
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