We got our mojo back in Trèbes, I think. After finding that dining out in the evening isn’t a good option for our two kids after a long day on the boat, we’ll aim for lunch out, dinner on the boat. Good. We had a quick wander around Trèbes which is visibly still picking itself up from floods last October and also a recent fatal multiple shooting – the Mairie has a new sign outside commemorating the victims of the attack. As we’re used to, few places were properly open as the season is a few weeks away, but the excellent butcher’s yielded some chicken which Aurélie transformed into a forestière creamy mushroom dish of transcendental deliciousness, and the Vino de Bacchus bar was “half-open” where the tipsy patron and equally tipsy clientèle were happy to chat with us in French and English about the recent misfortunes of Trèbes and the comparative merits of Brexit.
The next day we scoffed really good bread and croissants from the local bakery, topped up the water and fuel tanks, then tore off at 10am sharp.
One note: a lot of the villages we’ve been to are sleepy, somewhat neglected places, with a heap of grandeur that’s not been particularly loved or maintained. Then there’s the odd jewel like an excellent bakery, or surprisingly good butcher’s, or even a mairie which has clearly had some recent investment, which seems weird. And then you realise, when you try and cross the road, as in Trèbes, that all the inhabitants for miles around are just passing through these places in cars, vans and lorries to get to their actual jobs. These places are just feeders for cities, there are virtually no prospects here. It’s the same everywhere, I’m certain, just the monumental tourist thoroughfare passing through these areas of despondency makes it a little jarring. And I bet you wouldn’t notice during high season as the volume of numpty tourists would obscure it in various ways.
Timsformational 