Off bright and early with Wilf for a leisurely early morning walk. Today, we headed down the hill, across the stream and turned right, instead of left at the crossroads. New territory for both of us. For a while we followed the stretch of old roman road that runs along the valley floor, stopping so that Wilf could christen the weathered mile markers. Madame Bay had said that an American woman and her Dutch husband have bought a house on the river bend and are 'doing it up' in contemporary style. Contemporary in deepest Tarn-et-Garonne? This was something I had to see.
Despite my curiosity we didn't make it quite that far. After twenty minutes of carefree exploration Wilf had completely tired himself out. He sauntered slowly off the road and found himself a sun drenched spot on the river bank. There he sensibly settled down, head resting on paws, to watch the wild pheasants and plump, quarrelsome partridge scurrying through the long grass. From time to time he'd rouse himself to sniff the scent of the wild boar or deer in the forest. At one point a woman in a large Renault with Toulouse number plates raced, too quickly, along the narrow lane. The only car we saw all morning.
I wanted to get back but why hurry ? What in life could be as important as an extra half an hour on a sunny river bank with a faithful old companion ? Maybe we'll make it to the contemporary house tomorrow. Some journeys simply shouldn't be hurried.