Saturday, February 18, 2012
The water mains still broken . Our usual baker standing glumly at the door of the shop turning customers away . He's tried using bottled water to make the dough but it ' just can't be done '. The council workmen have promised him the work will be completed by this afternoon . He shrugs .
Off across country with Wilf in search of an alternate supply .The new bakers in the little market town is doing a roaring trade . The window chock full of cream cakes . The inhabitants must have a very sweet tooth . Each of the retired ladies in front of me buys a baguette and a cake so there might be some truth in this observation .
To the cafe . The man behind the counter fills up Wilfs bowl with water. He doesn't have a croissant left . He does however have the end of a baguette . Wilf accepts this with good grace then settles down on the floor and goes to sleep. The coffee is bitter and burnt as only an €0.80 coffee can be . Somewhere between bracing and undrinkable.
By the time I've finished Wilf is already snoring gently. A quick '' Come on matey !" and he's on his feet and following me out of the door. Seeing him walking confidently along , navigating doors and kerbs, you'd never believe he was blind. There again old PON's know : ' When the winds of change blow, some seek shelter, others build windmills '.