We were looking forward to the Ebreuil music festival later on this evening but more of that later.
It was a nice morning and very good for walking and so off we trotted to visit the hillside village of Saint Foye which is about five kilometres from the camp site but mainly uphill all the way until you reach the peak at 480 metres. The walk itself was very nice along small country lanes and past some flowers where black and white butterflies were nestling or seeking comfort. The village is quite small and mostly related to the farms and on the very top is a free range chicken farm, which is very good to see, with thousands of birds running around enjoying themselves and getting fit for the dinner table..
On the top of the hill overlooking Ebreuil Town is a small and very compact Chapel which could seat about twenty people, which no doubt is the entire population of Saint Foye as many of the houses are obviously holiday homes and 'Gites' for rent. We then headed back downhill to the camp site and enjoyed a pleasant lunch before the afternoon of reading. The evening was going to be good we thought.
The camp site had filled up quite a bit since we left with people encroaching on t
o our field and as they were mostly English, including white van man, I am thinking about writing to Monsieur Sarkozi to blog the boats at Calais with the French fisherman.
We had planned to eat at the newish Pizza joint only when we got there, there was a sign saying that due to exceptional circumstances they were closed. Oh dear so off to the Auberge where they said there was no space this evening and we were just thinking of driving to Gannat and remembered the small wine bar on the corner where we think they do food. We were in luck although tonight being a town gala night, they had a restricted menu which was a 'Tartane' (we think that how it is spelt) but it was a half of a brown baguette with a choice of Poulet, Andoulette or Jambon cru as a topping which was mixed with onions and covered in cheese and served with a salad. It was very tasty and together with a glass of wine most enjoyable. The wine bar had employed a musician for the evening that arrived and started sing droll French songs so after fifteen minutes when he started singing an English song with the words, what am I doing here, we agreed and left to see the main show of the evening.
Last year we had the combined guitar group of Ebreuil and then the mostly female Church choir being veraciously conducted by a demonic Vicar and it was all fun to watch. Tonight however they had sort of given up and there was a couple of street buskers playing guitars and a several kids waiting to play their flutes. What a disappointment and as we had hoped for something typically French the buskers started playing 'La Bamba'. So we left.
The rest of the evening was spent reading.
