Friday 19th June

As well as being the title of one of the best of Rod Stewart’s early albums it just about sums up life here in sleepy Eymet.  Today (Jeudi) was market day (again – amazing, it seems to come round every week) and I was opening the Café at seven.  I had made my scones last night (clever, eh) so as to save time.

I set out the tables leaving space for Francine and her fig stall (she was away the last two weeks and we had a bit more space) and got the kitchen ready, served a few market traders and prepared for the rush.  Well, to be honest it is more of a steady trickle, though there is usually at least one point where two or three parties come in at the same time and you cannot be in the kitchen preparing coffees and cakes and taking orders.  Thursdays usually both my wife and I are working but she is en Londres this week so we asked a friend Dennis to help.   He took the orders and I prepared them.  A good team as it happened and we had a few laughs.

I closed the Café at one and came home and had a nap.  Then I decided to do some laundry and took a load to the Laverie.  I came back to the café to have a cup of coffee while the machine washed the clothes (50 minutes, if you are interested – I did call this piece never a dull moment).  No sooner had I opened the café doors than two friends popped in and we all sat eating cake and drinking  tea.  I transferred the clothes into the dryer and sat in the sun in the square while they dried.  Just as I was leaving the square I noticed two Gendarmes walking about and looking up.  They had come to remove, or ask to be removed, some security cameras which another English friend had installed (C’est In-ter-dit, you know) to keep an eye on their property (a flat overlooking the square).  I hung about for a while, but though nothing much was happening the excitement was just too much and I scurried home to write yet another exciting blog….