Octobre. Hourah pour les photos digitales!

I’m so glad that all my photos include the date when they’re uploaded. Without the reminders I wouldn’t have a clue what I’d done last month.

We started with the National Nordic Walking festival on 1^st. The mayor came along in his suit and did squats with poles in the Nordicfit session, rather like military square-bashing to music, followed by a walk round the lake for the rest of us, in lovely sunshine.

We saw the mayor again the following week, at a reception for newcomers to the town. We've been here five months but better late than never and cocktails were on offer so it seemed rude to refuse. I was mildly disappointed that the cocktails weren’t the little paper umbrella type but the champagne flowed freely enough and I got over my disappointment. The roll of honour for the mayors was interesting: we couldn’t think why the years seemed odd but realised that’s what happened when France has a revolution.

On 12^th I went on my first longer Nordic walk, in the Wallers-Arenberg forest. This will be familiar to anyone who is interested in cycling races as it’s on the Paris-Roubaix course, and has a notorious cobbled section. There's a rather stylish memorial at the entrance to the cobbled part, to a local professional cyclist, Jean Stablinski, world road race champion in 1962, among other achievements.

The walk took us through the forest and up (and down and up and down) the local version of a hill, a former slag heap, which gave rather misty views onto the lake. It was good, after five months to be able to look down on a view, albeit not very far down.

 

Wilf came home from work on 13^th very pleased with himself as he’d learned the word for pie-chart. I first guessed “pie-chart” as so many technical-type words are the same as the English one. No
“Pee-sharte?”
No
“Tarte-charte?”
No…………………… Camembert!
I have to admit I could see why he was so pleased. Not many statistical figures are named after cheeses.

A famers’ market in a small square on 16^th opened our eyes and ears. There were the biggest carrots I’ve ever seen and background music from a slightly stereotypical singer.

The songs were in the local dialect so we hadn't much idea what he was on about but it was a pleasant way to pass half an hour on a Sunday morning.

Autumn is coming. The hectic whirl of events in the town is slowing down, the trees are losing their leaves,

starling numbers are growing as they come in to roost in the evenings and I bought an apple which, if it had landed on Newton’s head, would probably have meant that we wouldn't have had his Theory of Gravity. 

Have fun, folks. We'll continue our research into local restaurants and France's wine industry, without neglecting the more local brewing businesses.