Police, horses and broken washing lines

Whilst driving down to the main commercial/retail park at Barentin (what great sightseeing trips we do), first of all we were stopped by the police. Not that we were doing anything wrong, it was one of those standard stop every third car type of thing. Usually they don't bother with foreign cars, but either they felt adventurous, or hadn't noticed the foreign plates and were now trying to bluff it out.

Of course, all they wanted to see was John's driving licence, which was the only document he didn't have with him - it was back at Bourg Dun in his English wallet. Luckily I don't think the policeman could face the paperwork, and just told us to get on. At first I thought it was lazy of John to talk to him in English, but then I realised this was most probably adding to his decision that life was too short to bother taking our lack of documentation any further. (Must remember to nag John about this whenever I can!)

About 10 minutes down the road, we were nearing our destination when we saw a sign for Pissy-Poville.  I would love to live there!

That was exciting Friday, Sunday was even better - we had a . . .

Ah, that's the problem with living life, there's no time left for recording how you lived it. The former was written on 5th August, it's now 20th, and I've only a vague idea what witticisms I was going to add except for the hints in the title and the tags I'd added before writing (what a good idea, must do that more often).

Saturday, I remember, we were going to see the Horse Fair in the next village, Quiberville, but it rained all day so we didn't.  Sunday wasn't so bad - damp but not raining hard, so we went to Quiberville. If you know this area, you know Quiberville is a small place but each year they have a massive horse fair.  There are all the usual side stalls selling pictures of horses, horsey paraphenalia etc but also a show-jumping competition for teenagers, and an obstacle course for horses with carts. Finally, we saw a group of men playing hunting horns - quite weird really, especially as the sound is so very directional from the horns that when we were sitting behind them it sounded awful.

.............

It's now 9th September and I'm still desperately trying to finish this entry! The last thing that happened was the rotary washing line bent under a load when the wind was high, so we had to replace it which meant digging out a new hole, trying to find the 'right' sort of cement when you don't know the technical terms in French (for some reason that isn't part of standard evening class vocabulary). Don't know why on earth I thought anyone would be interested in that aspect of our life here in France . . . still, this item's finished now and I can start to fill in the gaps of the 5 weeks since I started it.