Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
if you pretty much restrict your research to a certain class of women who pick at their lunch
in the finest Parisian brasseries then obviously you'll conclude it's a nation of Carla Brunis
with nary an Ann Widdecombe in sight. French society is really no different from any other
developed nation - it is putting on weight at an alarming rate. And whereas once obesity may
have been frowned upon, or mocked, it is becoming increasingly the norm.
It became clear by the Tuesday morning, however, that item one on my exercise timetable
- 9 a.m. Remove Clothes from Exercise Bike - was going to have to wait. Natalie had, des-
pite my entreaties to 'man up', succumbed to gastric flu and was, against her will, bedridden,
leaving me to deal with the boys and the animals.
Samuel and Maurice need to be up at seven, so that they have time to get ready and breakfast
properly in time for school. I got them up at half past, thinking that they might operate better
under pressure, but as it turned out Maurice was quite clearly too ill to go anywhere, despite
his protestations. Samuel treats mornings with the disdain they deserve and needs to be ca-
joled constantly as he has a habit of falling back to sleep while getting dressed, but he made
the bus, just.
I put the dogs outside so that I could feed the cats whose litter tray looked and smelt like an
open sewer, but which would have to wait until I had the fortitude to deal with it. Next, I went
out and got the logs and kindling for the fire and returned to find Maurice on the sofa, half
dressed, nose and eyes streaming. Then Thérence started giving off, so I got him up, gave him
his milk and got him dressed. He was still teething and his nappy contained what appeared to
be the results of a chemical-warfare cowpat experiment. I decided to skip breakfast.
The temperature outside was -3°C so I let the dogs back in, which was a mistake. At first I
thought the post-op drowsy cats and Thérence had got together to form a dirty protest some-
where, the stench was so numbing, but it was actually Pierrot's breath! He has a tendency to
eat any carrion he finds, no matter what state it's in, and it was taking its toll. Put together
with his offputting sexual habits the old boy was something of a disgrace, a bit like Regency
period aristocracy - he looks nice from a distance but you wouldn't want to get too close. I
put Maurice back to bed and decided to take Thérence and the dogs for a walk to get some
fresh air.
'Don't forget to take the cats,' Natalie called croakily from her bed.
In my absence Natalie had bought the remaining cats leads. A nice idea in theory and one I
hope she'll enjoy the benefit of, but I was still at the very limit of acceptable eccentricity in
the opinion of the locals, so I would not be walking the cats. Our neighbours are all hunters -
they own firearms - the temptation would be simply too great. Besides which, the cats were
still too 'ginger' to be going out and needed a couple more days of rest to recover from their
travails.
Going out had an immediately soothing effect. It was a sunny day, cold but invigorating, and
Thérence and I watched some deer running and jumping in the next field. Deer are naturally
