The French do like their randonees, and we took part in a local walk on Friday evening around our local town of Chatillon sur Indre. It was organised by the gym club (keep fit to you or I) run by a 64 year old (yes, she is very fit) lady who has a smallholding which backs onto our property. It was supposed to be 9K - that was what was advertised, but she quietly told us it was just over 10K (that was a secret apparently). However, we were not deterred by this information, and duly set off at 8.00pm with Poppy who is always looking for new sniffing grounds. Halfway round, as is common with all randonees, there is a tuck stop. Sometimes these are very elaborate affairs with wine (yes at 10.00 in the morning!), sometimes barbecued food, but always plenty to eat. We had a drink and a slice of a very nice leek quiche, Poppy had a welcome drink then we set off again. There were about 50 people on the walk, and we spent a pleasant 2 hours covering the distance. Mind you, the legs were complaining a bit by the time we got back, but another bit of tuck this time accompanied by a glass of cider helped.
Our local hamlet also chose the same night for it's annual concert given by the nearby commune's wind band. We pulled up at 10.30 in time to hear the last 3 tunes, then we all stood around having a glass of wine and a galette or two. The galettes are not what you expect (flat pancakes), but are puff pastry triangles. More often than not they are made from potato flour, but those last night were standard puff pastry. A bit dry really, but then you just have another drink.
By the time we got home (12.30am) my muscles were really starting to complain and I had to put some muscle relaxant on them before I could get off to sleep. They are still grumbling today, but then I'm not in the best of conditions for undertaking 10K walks.
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