Monday 20th August

The town has a really nice atmosphere.  It is at least twenty per cent English, but remember these are English who have either escaped the gloom and doom of Blighty, or are actually on holiday or visiting relatives.  So all the English, even those working out here as estate agents or running small shops are so much more relaxed than back home.  The French are a bit like the French anywhere, a bit arrogant, a bit pompous, happy in the knowledge that French food and culture is far far superior to anyone else’s, but actually if you engage with them and attempt to converse in French are very chatty and will babble on.  You, making a nod here and there as you register a word they are saying, and putting your little French into use.  They almost always compliment you on your French, but I suspect this is more for the attempt than the execution.  Fairly soon you feel as if you know a lot of people in the town, or at least recognize them to nod too, and even those you do not know as you pass appreciate a Bonjour Monsieur.  The town is small enough to feel like a large village, but big enough to have a few Boulangeries, a Charcuterie, a couple of half decent Supermarche, and even a Laverie.  Incidentally the French do have a sense of humour as one Laundromat we passed had a big Bugs Bunny outside and the name was Tex Laverie.  And wandering into the square for coffee at Kismet you always bump into someone to talk to.  Earlier in the year we were the newcomers, now when we are asked, like old pros we say, ‘Mais Oui, nous avons un maison en Eymet.’