Excuse me, but I feel that you should be witness to the fact that today I was "dumped"............ and very unceremoniously too! And who was responsible for this dumping? Well.......none other that "mon mari", Mark!
Our plan this afternoon, after doing some shopping and taken two bags of parcels to La Poste, was to take Sir Digbert Fanshaw Brownshaw out for a walk. We diverted to a couple of brocantes en route (well, who wouldn't?) and then drove to an old disused railway track which is now a nature walk. This particular walk is over 50 miles long with the odd road, picnic spot and car park en route at certain points.
We were on the way to our usual parking spot when Mark spotted another entrance to the track that we had never seen before. So he suggested that he would drop me and Sir Digbert there and he would drive ahead to the car park and start walking up from the other direction until we met.
So........... we started walking in the beautiful sunshine, (one of the best days of the year so far, weatherwise) primroses and daffodils lined the way and not a soul on the track.
And so we walked.....................and walked............................and walked. No sign of Mark and our usual carpark..............and so we continued walking. Sir Digbert started to lag behind and the sun began to set......and still we walked.
The track passed through some dense woodlands where we could have been ravaged by one of the huge "sangliers" (wild pigs) that live in the area.
Who knows what might have happened? I have even known hunters run from the beasts. They are huge and can be viscious - and, in the Springtime, viscious times ten as they have their young to protect. How could I have climbed a tree holding a Jack Russell terrier? In fact....come to think of it....never mind the Jack Russell. How could I have climbed a tree at all!!
We could have been eaten and no one would ever have found us - just a little pink lead and a cherub brooch would be all that would have been found in the grass.
And so we carried on walking. By this point I was thinking of lighting a fire to start a smoke signal that would demand I was airlifted.....but I walked instead.
If I had known I was going on what the French call a "randonnee" (a hike) I would have been prepared - but I had no backpack, walking books, primus stove, tent, emergency foil-packed energy packs - all those essential things that Bear Grylls says that you need to survive in the wild. I didn`t even have two boy scouts to rub together to light a fire!
And still we walked and not a soul in sight; just the long track stretching out in front of us. The track crossed several deserted road and then continued.
Having had a coffee in the cafe between visiting the brocantes was also making me feel a little uncomfortable; I considered nipping behind a tree but the thought of pulling my jeans down for a sanglier to sink his tusks into my derriere changed my mind - so I walked with my legs crossed.
In the distance I saw a cottage with a plume of smoke coming from its chimney. Should I tramp across the field, knock the door and ask for bread and water if the owner would be kind enough to let me sleep in his barn and work my keep off the land?
Aching feet....tired Jack Russel...getting dark. Keep walking ( I'm sure that's what Bear suggested!)
Eventually, in the distance, I saw a figure. At last, I have been saved! But no. It was simply a young girl "jogging" along the track. "Bonsoir Madam" she chirped. " Is it?" I almost replied between clenched teeth. I could see nothing "bon" about it!
Eventually my 'grand amour' did come into view - casually strolling along eating a chocolate bar. Even Diggers was too tired to run and greet him. I considered pulling down a branch to lash him with it - but didn`t have the energy.
I crawled to the car on my hands and knees and checked the sign to see that Sir Digbert and I had walked 6 kilometres.
I need cake!!!
A la prochaine mes belles.....