We did however have one French experience for the day. We managed to catch the phantom bread van which passes through Beurizot daily.
It is a bit like Christmas every day for the Santa Claus of bakers. The local villagers leave a bag or occasionally a basket outside their front door or window for the baker to put the bread into. Sometimes there will be a note on the empty bag presumably altering the standing order. Some bags are long, narrow and colourful; These have obviously been designed for the purpose. Some bags are just large black garbage bags. And some times the baker just props the bagutte on the window sill.
Atelier Alex (that is his name), who lives across the road from our cottage uses a very attractive cane basket for his bread basket. Atelier Alex, is an old man and he looks after the garden of our cottage. I guess he keeps an eye on the lodgers, although he is not the person in the village we contact if we have any trouble.
Today the rain has stopped but it is very foggy. We are hoping for the sun to shine when the fog lifts. No such luck.
Undaunted we head off for a scenic drive along the valley of the river Ouche.
The Chateauneuf looks quite ethereal shrouded in fog.
Along the Ouche river we discover a small marina at a village called Pont d'Ouche . The marina is full of canal boats of all shapes and sizes. Surprisingly many of the boats are English registered, the signs are in English and it is mostly English that we hear spoken.
Some of the boats, like these two, are hotel boats that take passengers cruising along the canal.
This one is equiped with a heated spa.
It is here at Pont d'Ouche that the Burgundy Canal crosses the Ouche River. And it is here that we are able to finally photograph something we have seen a few times and that always does our head in; a canal going over a river. Hence the name Pont (Bridge) over the Ouche. Except this bridge carries a canal not a road or railway line.
We roam around the countryside and amongst other things run across a forest of electricity transmission towers. Eight transmission lines running parallel. The French have some serous electricity needs.
The weather does not improve and we head for home soon after lunch. On the way home we pop into a the local church in the village next door to Beurizot. The village and the church are called St Thibault. The village has existed since the middle ages at least. The construction of the church began in in 1260 by order of the reigning Duke of Burgundy to house the relics of St Thibault.
The front entry is part of the original 13th century church...
The carved timber doors are even more magnificent than the carved stone around the entry...
Inside the walls of the church are lined with beautifully carved wood panelling...
The 14th century polychrome carved timber altar, that depicts scenes from St Thibault's life, is the cherry on top of the cake.
The tiny village of less than fifty houses and the surrounding countryside for miles is dwarfed by the magnificence of the church at its heart. Although both the village and the church are showing the signs of their monumental age, they are typical of the unheralded treasures we find every day in our random wanderings in France. The French just don't go out of their way to promote or even tart up what in any other country would be a national treasure and a great tourist attraction. In France churches like St Thibault are just ordinary village churches; no more, no less, no fuss.
