Sunday May 9th

I am breaking off from my history of the cafe to give an insight into French life. On Sunday we were invited to join the Rural Families St Michel Branch day out. It proved to be a great day but also reconfirmed a couple of things I associate with France
Distance....For those of you who have driven in France, you frequently see signs to places such as Macdonalds, the local supermarket etc by the side of the road. These show directions and normally a time. "Macdonalds a 2mn" The first few times you believe them, telling the kids, " only a couple of minutes" and then you learn the truth. These signs are only relevant if you happen to be passing in a jet fighter, if not 2mn means 20,so you need to "hold it" just a little longer.
The relevance to our day out, the invite said bike ride of 15kms with "plus le reste", the reality 31kms with a quick turn around at half way. Mind you,having not ridden a bike for a while, I couldn't have walked around or perhaps even have got off the bike even had there been "plus de reste"
Food and Drink...The invite said bring a picnic for lunch and also a meal in the evening. J an I not realising that a pique nique had an entirely different meaning to picnic, took what we would normally take, a few sandwiches, a bottle of water and some fruit all nicely wrapped in a small rucksack.
We knew we had got it wrong when the car boots were opened and people started to take out what looked like treasure chests. These were somewhat large and had, in the main to be carried by two people. When opened, they included, tablecloths, pastis, pineau, three of four baguettes a couple, red and white wine, meats, the dinner set and I am sure I saw a set of cut glasses somewhere.
By the time we had eaten our meagre lunch no other couple had even unpacked. So we joined the PICK NICK, we picked at everybody else's food and nicked what we liked the look of. That was until J was kindly offered some andouille by a local farmer. this is a delicacy apparently and is the pig equivelent of tripe. Tripe it was!
The evening meal back in St Michel was enjoyable and also gave me an opportunity to speak English to more than just J for the first time in the day. When we were on about the third or fourth glass of wine and toast, I was asked what the english equivelent of "sante" was. Having had a quick look at the internet when we had popped home to change, I had no hesitation in standing up raising my glass and getting 25 french people to toast "CHELSEA".

The day also involved a trip to the National Stud Farm in La Roche. I mention this as it ruined some of my illusions. I am sure that like me when you hear that a champion horse has been put out to stud, you imagine him having the time of his life with any number of female horses and then relaxing afterwards with a beer and a cigar. I thought that a stud farm would be the equivelent of a hotel bedroom at a premiership clubs christmas do. Well its not quite like that. I may not be exactly right as the explanation was all in French but basically its like this. Mr horse is taken to a room where there is a pretend horse, full size and with a bit of cat fur in the relevant place. Inside the cat fur is a downpipe as used on guttering and at the end is a large bucket. Mr horse is then introduced to Mrs horse, who is there to tease. ( you know the type!!!) Mrs horse teases Mr horse until he can fill the drainpipe so to speak. Mrs horse is then led away , mr horse is shown the cat fur and the bucket collects.

I came away ( maybe not the right choice of word there) thanking my lucky stars nobody has ever referred to me a a stud. I dont even have a bucket.