Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
couldn't resist looking. Sheer drops of nothingness gave way to steep slopes of rocky scree
inhabited only by scraggy pines that hung on with tenacious roots.
Whilst this was better than literally nothing, there was still no indication of any warn-
ing chevrons, protective barriers or hazard signs. This struck me as being marginally ab-
normal because the French are generally such sticklers about posting information notices if
there's even the slightest hint of anything other than a 1 in 10,000 slope involved.
But then again we were definitely off the beaten track. Perhaps it was because there
was no chance of passing an oncoming vehicle or being able to turn around that made
the need for road signs unnecessary. The only issue of any consequence here was blind-
ingly obvious: survival. My tense speculations were interrupted by the sound of my mobile
phone.
“ItsWill here,” roared the familiar voice. “And how are my intrepids this fine morn-
ing?”
“Oh fine thanks, Will. It's a tricky road, but we're making steady progress now.”
“Good,
good
. That's what I like to hear. And what's the weather like?” I looked up
through the car's sunroof and couldn't quite believe my eyes.
“Well, er, the weather is fine Will, but I've just noticed that there's a car in the trees
above our heads.”
“No, I don't think so my dear, it'll be on the hairpin bend up ahead. They can give one
the most horrid optical illusion. I understand they are a little steep on the approach to the
domaine
.”
“Actually, no Will, there is definitely a car in the tree. We're very close to it now. It
must have toppled off the road on the corner and it's now stuck in the top of a tree. In fact
I'm looking directly at its roof, it's almost upside down.”
“Most unusual,” came the
sotto voce
reply. “But then again I do have to remind you
how appallingly bad the French drivers are - quite disastrous on the road. Anyway, not to
worry, at least it's off the road and not in your way. Otherwise it would be rather complic-
ated trying to get past it.
Hah!
But rest assured, my dear, the road is entirely safe in that
district and Thierry tells me you will arrive in the next five minutes.” With a final bawl of
“
bon courage!
” (good luck) he abruptly rang off.
Our destination finally came into view and not a moment too soon. We gingerly roun-
ded a shaley turn and made our way up an impossibly steep drive to the front of the house.
The door was wide open and there stood our hosts, faces alight with warm smiles as they
ushered us in.
Madame
was very comely indeed. She was dressed in a housecoat which was sensibly
protected by a pinafore and she had the perkiest giggle imaginable that rang around the
house in welcome. It perfectly matched her contented countenance.
Monsieur
was dressed from head to foot in extremely close-fitting 'cammo' kit. I men-
tion this because the material was stretched perilously tightly across his ample girth and the
