Towards The end of the (outbound) Journey...
It had taken the coach some five hours, including the Carrouges stopover at breakfast time, and passing through the fields of corn, strangely reminiscent of the familiar mielie (maize) farmlands back home in Africa (I guess if you’ve seen one maize field you’ve seen them all), I somehow sensed we were nearing our destination. There is something in the air right next to the coast that is unlike the inland atmosphere. I had on many occasions through this ride been sorry that I had not taken the ‘drive yourself’ option to get here. Those small provincial French villages, as in most of Europe, are completely irresistible - and reading through a guide book I had discovered in Paris I was only too aware of the many attractions we had sped past barely knowing, but for my having read of them, that they existed.
Of course I also knew that had I been driving myself this could never be a one day visit, and I would have been so busy concentrating on the roads I’d have missed much of the country scenery.
You pay your money and you make your choice! Besides, there’s always the next time …
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