Fridays storms have gone to be replaced by endless blue cloudless skies and a warm cosseting wind. We came home on the back roads past an old pigeonniere tower standing alone in the fields- most of them have gone - snapped up by holidaying Parisiens and incorporated into bijoux weekend homes. It would have been wonderful to have stopped the car and set off with Wilf for a brisk walk through the wild flower meadows towards the Pyrennees but the ever present spectre of piroplasmosis is changing all our routines.
Later today the little market town will be gearing itself up for the Victory Day celebrations. We'll drive over again before lunch to see what is going on.