There was a choice to be made:
Stay at home to look after Maman, or head north in seriously limited space on wheels (The Troll) with two wild grandkids.
We drew the short straw.
This was to be our safari replacement. Thanks to my aging venous system, flying to distant realms was out. This, instead of visiting my many animal friends and acquaintances, meant that we were to take some of our favourite wild animals with us.
Giraffes on the back of the van...
..and two uncontrollable wild animals within.
...currently pretending to be domesticated.
Getting to the Loire Valley took most of the day. Made longer by toilet stops, food stops, siesta stops and, well, time to enjoy the rain.
And so, we arrived in Valençay, ready for the following day's medieval meanderings and, possibly more importantly, in time for the World Cup Rugby Final.
This might explain this radically (and thankfully) shortened blog. It is now time for me to watch the match, while the two wildlings are hopefully forced into recumbency.
Fear not, tomorrow's blog will almost certainly help you drift into sleep...
Our adventure starts tomorrow.
Be there.
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