Though the rain did smite them, sunny remained their disposition...

Bonjour Mon Amies,

well it's day 18, we have lugged our saggy bodies over 200 kms, it has rained for the past five days and Greg and I are still talking to one another, so I guess all is well. If the week has had a theme, it would be rain, blisters and the kindness of strangers. We have uploaded our latest pics so do have a gander. And so to the high/low lights:

- It is becoming increasingly difficult for me to justify my prejudices against the French. Although on some key areas I remain smugly assured that the British way is superior than that of the French, I have to concede that the French could teach us a thing or seven about a "quality" rather than "quantity" approach to life. Let me elaborate. The French drink, but emphasis is on the quality of the beverage rather the desire merely to get inebriated as fast as possible. They also know when to stop; a skill I could do with homing. The food? Quite simply it would seem they do indeed have the best cuisine in the world. They take genuine pride in buying locally and in supporting farmers and working the land is a respected occupation. Being here has helped me understand a little better why the French people (not so the new government) are so resistant to adopting a fully liberal, market-based economy. They value their (long!) lunch breaks and Sunday as a day of rest. It seems they view Margaret Thatcher as a symbol of the destruction of society merely for the pursuit of material gain. To be fair, France's economy is in fairly bad shape (especially compared to Britain's) and looks likely to follow the British/US model from a necessity to reduce unemployment and it's massive domestic debt, yet this is a country where young people (for the most part) genuinely respect adults and where strangers acknowledge and help one another. If the cost of economic growth is the loss of society, is this a price worth paying?

- I don't like rain. It makes me wet. It makes my tent wet. It makes all my possessions wet. At times, this makes me sad. In an attempt to stay dry I am forced to wear a brightly coloured "high-vis" waterproof and an equally garish cover for my rucksack (see photos!). Looking like a wet, luminous orange blob and not speaking French very well, does not help me blend-in with the locals. This also makes me sad.

- For the first time in my life I am able to look at a map and compass and understand the information they reveal. This makes me happy. It also helps us avoid walking around in circles.

- I like French women. They are generally beautiful and are inexplicably good at just being women. I even like the way they laugh at me when I am dressed as an orange blob.

- I've spotted a gap in the market here. Fresh milk. You can't get it here. Porquoi?

- Greg is better at skimming stones than me but I am far superior at hitting targets.

Au Revoir.