To Condom

The 100th post from France and the first morning of the year with the terrace windows open at breakfast time. A satisfying coincidence. Wilf and Digby sat outside in the bright early sunshine watching the blackbirds scurrying across the lawn and raising the occasional half bark, half growl when a farm trailer rumbled past .

Lured by the blue skies we set off to the local market town of Condom yesterday , Wilf and Digby contentedly snuggled close together in the back of the car. In Italy you never saw young people driving tractors or working on the farm. Here farming still remains a profitable, and in some areas highly lucrative, business. Everywhere you looked the fields were alive with shiney bright blue tractors busily seeding and spraying - a sure sign that winter has finally passed.

Condom was closed - Monday being a day when French shops restock and recharge their batteries for the week ahead. The two boyz were able to enjoy a quiet, leisurely sniff and stroll round the deserted cathedral cloisters followed by a bowl of fresh water considerately supplied by the owner of the cafe on the square. While they slurped noisily away we sat in the sunshine savouring a cup of coffee and marvelling at the fact we've been in France for four months now. At this time last year we were talking to the Italian builder about all the things that we were going to do at the house in Umbria. Here we are a year later in a different country and we're still talking to builders . Through it all life flows seamlessly on .