After an easy train journey and a long day we arrived in Limoges train station, beautiful building that it is, at just after 8.00pm. The hotel was just a couple of minutes walk away for which we were both very thankful. It’s an odd mix of ultra modern lobby, cube shaped chairs and futuristic computer work-stations, a bar playing smooth, smooth jazz out the back and the sounds of general revelry. Then up in the tiniest of tiny lifts, and to the room. There are signs apologising for the current refurbishment. No need to apologise my friends, just get it done. The corridors smell like hospital and the carpet is pure Fawlty towers. It needs a lick of paint. Once your eyes accustomise to the trippiest of yellow and pink bathroom tiles, complete with two full length mirrors for full kaleidoscope effect, the room is spotlessly clean and functional which is all we needed.

We headed out for food and spied a Turkish restaurant so in we went, really good food and about 2 doors down from the hotel – perfect!

Had a great night’s sleep and we headed out to pick up our hire car for the next few days. Quick detour to Le Grand Frais for some shopping, picked up some paint, and onwards to the house. The trees are beautiful, still golden, yellow, russet, copper. The cows are in the fields both opposite and behind the house so I enjoyed a brief perch on my favourite tree stump and listened to precisely nothing other than the faint hum of a distant chainsaw in the sun.

This afternoon was spent, sanding, washing down walls and putting a first coat of paint on the ceiling in the gite living room. Lots more to do tomorrow but currently sitting on the sofa after tea, surrounded by dust sheets, completely knackered.

Couldn’t be bothered to reconnect the TV only to dismantle it again tomorrow so our old camping failsafe, the Archers, beckoned. Tonight, a tractor ran out of diesel, some shit went down about the village pantomime, and a diner complained because their food was cold. That was it! Hilarious. Radio 4’s randomness is great, tonight it was Coracle fishing, and poetry about Robert Mugabe. 

Wood burner is lit, it’s blooming cold tonight, might resort to the hot water bottles in bed to take the chill off. That’s the price you pay for a beautiful clear autumn day, clear skies = need for thermals!

TTFN xxx