Indeed, as I sit here typing this I should be sitting in my car reading a history of the First World War as we hurtle under the English Channel towards la belle France. That's the beauty of the Chunnel, although when it was first proposed I was adamant that I would never use it. Now, however, I am a convert. Granted, it seems much better organised than the Channel ferry ports (and I've used quite a number in my time) and the crossing is so much quicker at just 35 minutes compared to a minimum of an hour and a quarter. The big thing in its favour as far as I am concerned is that we stay in the car. Now that the Old Bat has mobility challenges, it makes for a much easier crossing for her. But that's all by the bye.
As I said, I shouldn't be here. We had planned to travel over today to hide away for a week and to stock up on the usual - wine, coffee, cheese and so on - while enjoying a bit of the different life-style. However, the OB became a little anxious about the snow and I was unable to persuade her that we were most unlikely to become stuck either en route or once we reached La Prévière. So, like the gentleman I am, I bowed to her wishes. And here I am, typing a fresh load of drivel instead of heading towards my favourite restaurant where we would certainly have eaten tomorrow.
The OB's idea of a sop to Cerberus was to prepare cassoulet for last night's dinner on the grounds that if we couldn't go to France, France could at least come to our table. So, pork and beans it was - and the pork was English, not French!
Hey ho, here are the (newish) red and white check tablecloths at Au Vieux Castel, which is where we should have been eating tomorrow. The photo was taken while sitting at our usual table - beside a heater!