A Ship in the Wind - Fat Dogs and French Estates - page 85

15
A Ship in the Wind
I was pleased to note that the monsieur's vehicle was sparklingly clean and not at all dam-
aged. Nevertheless before we started I couldn't resist sharing a couple of moments from our
previous domaine's off-road experience just in case our host turned out to be another rally-
driving maniac. This was met by a couple of frightfully French dismissive waves from mon-
sieur who obviously wouldn't dream of doing anything that might endanger the neat pleats
in his trousers or sully his elegant silk cravat.
The tour itself went well enough with monsieur driving very sensibly. In fact it would
have been fun were it not for the general atmosphere of pessimism in the car. This was
caused by both our host and Jack. Monsieur regaled us with endless stories about his torrid
divorce proceedings and the horrors of rabbits and their untidy holes. Then Jack joined in by
wincing every time we were buffeted by the relentless wind.
“No trees, not a sodding tree in sight,” he constantly muttered, adding to the gloom.
Luckily James was extremely chirpy and fought valiantly to counter the depressed at-
mosphere by providing an interesting running commentary about the local area. I took ad-
vantage of this by asking whether it was possible to purchase any more woodland from
neighbouring farms.
“ Tout est possible as they say over here, ” replied the beaming Jimmy, now sensing an
early buying signal. “Everything is possible! I don't see why not. I'll do a spot of instant
research and we can discuss the results over lunch once we've finished up here.”
Back at the house and before we looked around inside, I excused myself and nipped
back to check on the dogs. Biff was having a marvellous time. He'd found a rabbit burrow
and was determined to find the creator. He was already down to mid-belly level and defin-
itely on a mission. Sam, on the other hand, had perfectly clean paws. He'd obviously decided
that rather than risk being shredded by his over-zealous mate, he'd leave the excavations
well alone and have a snooze in a shady corner.
I joined the others back in the hall and once again I could only wonder at the marvels of
trick photography or perhaps Photoshop. As mentioned earlier, some of the rooms shown in
the brochure indicated a nautical theme but nowhere near the extent of what I was now see-
ing. The salon closely resembled a chandlery, lacking only a couple of shackles, a cleat or