… rain, rain and more rain.
The inclement weather had been forecast for 21st. We had planned to drive to St. Aubin du Cormier, a journey just shy of 300kms, so why did it feel so long? It took us five hours. The weather was foul so maybe the arduous feeling was in some part due to the conditions. We briefly considered driving further but further would have been quite a lot further. I’m glad we stopped ‘cos we’re on a quite delightful small camping municipal of just 25 or so pitches beside a lake. The rain eventually stopped and the next two days are supposedly clement.
As is often the case with camping municipals reception was not open in the afternoon; pitch up and pay up in the evening when someone turns up. Someone did turn up and we paid for two nights, basically €19 per night including electricity. We got Frodo settled in a nice secluded corner, which needed some levelling ramps.
After a very quiet night, the following day was market day in St. Aubin, which we were looking forward to. It did not disappoint, though there might have been an olive stall for an aperitif. Neither was there a spinning chicken machine for dinner. We needed food for a couple of days, though, so we bought some rabbit and prune “pillows” for one night and crepinettes [faggots] for a second evening. We had some veggies that needed using that would accompany these.
After the market we repaired to Frodo for lunch, which was leftover paupiettes from a day or so ago.
The early morning murk had by now dissipated and I was keen to see what our lake had to offer. Actually, there were two adjacent lakes, the smaller of the two with many lilypads. Things were a bit slow to begin with but, in the enjoyable afternoon sunshine, we eventually racked up a list of 11 species of dragonfly and damselfly. There was a twelfth, a demoiselle, but I didn’t see it and Francine didn’t see it well enough to identify. Not a bad haul, though.
Perhaps the larger lake’s most curious inhabitant was a strikingly handsome Bar-headed Goose, more usually famed for its high altitude migration flights across the Himalayas. It is not native to Europe. This particular individual eventually left the water and stretched its wings, one of which was obviously clipped. So, it’s a captive bird but what is a captive bird doing swimming on a municipal lake, I wonder?
Recent Comments