A beautiful day for a walk and half of France agreed. It was Sunday afternoon, after all, and THAT’S what one does.
The weather was absolutely gorgeous so it was no hardship to be out.
A few hundred meters into my stroll I encountered a sign, similar to one I’d seen before and didn’t really know what what it was all about, but I could guess so I followed the directions — here’s a link to an explanation:
I only did a small part of the route, but I was pleased to discover this and another one for the area. Mostly, I was walking along the portion of the chemin du halage — the towing path — along the Canal.
Yes, a real Canal. With barges. And cargo. And houseboats.
There is a parallel path to the tow path and it runs along the fields, with quite a bit of hedges and trees along one side. It being hunting season, there are lots of locals out with their dogs and their shotguns, blasting away first thing in the morning and then again in the early evening. Fortunately I was in out in the time in between, not that I’d be mistaken for a pheasant or quail, the local selection of flying fowl hereabouts that they’re shooting.
But I did run in to one optimist along the way and I worked up the courage to ask if I could get a photo of him and his dog.
About a half hour later, after a bite to eat that I’d brought along (mmmmmm… fresh baguette split open and slathered with local butter, a couple of slices of viande, and some fresh chevre inside of said baguette), I came across what had to be his vehicle, parked on the side of the tow path. I say it was his his because there was a soft gun case, draped over the passenger seat of the jaune postale Renault van.
C’est la France; il y a toujours une exception…