If all has gone according to plan, I could well be heading roughly southwards on an almost deserted French motorway by the time this shows up on the blog. I'm typing it yesterday, only it's still today at the moment, and it will probably be tomorrow before you read it - or maybe even the day after tomorrow - even though you think it's still today.
I could well be thinking ahead as I drive to the evening meal: there's not a lot more to do when sitting behind the wheel on a motorway as empty as those we had in England fifty years ago. We will stop at one of a chain of restaurants I have mentioned before on another blog, a Buffalo Grill (or Buffalo Bill's as we call them). I will be trying to decide what I will eat. There is a wide selection of dishes on the menu but I do tend to stick with three or four that I know I like. So, will it be the hunter's platter with three small steaks, one rump beef, one buffalo and one ostrich, served with chips (French fries for you funny Americans) and a sauce of my choice (Roquefort as ever) or will it be the brochettes de boeuf, skewers of pieces of beef interspersed with slices of onion and green pepper and also served with chips and a sauce? Or maybe the chicken Cajun style or a burger?
There will be plenty of time to decide but I will still not know until the waiter or waitress comes to take the order.
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