After our day exploring, while the men took a well-earned nap I went out and about with my camera. Cyn took me on a guided tour of the village.
There was hardly a soul about, at 5pm. This little girl was fascinated by Lulu and kept turning up on every other street corner on her bicycle. Her name was Sophie.
This cat was keeping a careful eye on Lulu, too.
The flowers around the village were at their best at this time of year. Later on it is difficult to keep plants going because it is so hot.
There were very pretty trees, too.
This chap was out by himself and not used to visitors like Lulu in the village. He came to say hello after a while but then ran off when she started jumping all over him, in typical silly young poodle fashion.
I spent almost a whole hour walking around the village and it was very quiet. It was warm and sunny with that beautiful golden evening light that we never get at home in England. But there were hardly any other people about. The tremontane was still blowing so maybe that keeps people indoors. Apart from Sophie we exchanged pleasantries with one person on foot and heard voices from the occasional window and from the boulangerie. A couple of cars passed by.
Cyn tells me that there are lots of feral cats in the village. Every so often a cull is organised to control the population. Cats without collars are shot or poisoned. It seemed so cruel and sad, looking at these cute little creatures, but no doubt a necessary solution to a big problem.
We also saw four of these, all obviously still in use although some in much better condition than others. Two beige, one red and one royal blue. I still have a hankering for one.
One day, perhaps.
(I wonder if they ever made them in lime green.)