Road trip with dog

Not quite the same vibe as road trip with my R.Trip compatriot in the shape of Ezra, our son, but nevertheless a good experience.

I did miss the 'hey, look an old abandoned factory, must explore' element as dog's idea of a road trip is to smell much wee, historic and fresh, eat the pre-packed 'teatime' and to accompany myself as I wander aimlessly taking photos and sketching; I could almost hear the sigh - oh, come on . . . there so much more close up stuff to sniff, forget landscape, and architecture - boring . . .

Our logement for the two nights was an ancient vintage caravan in a small wood; dating from about 1970 it was cosy and full of laminate wood, hallucinogenic flowery wallpaper and a comfy bed which the dog decided she would inhabit, leaving me a small section of it at night - actually I slept incredibly well, waking to the sound of rain on roof and chorusing birdsong. What joy, tea, rain pattering, a good book and slumbering dog.

The two days were spent revisiting a couple of towns that Ezra had lived/worked in when he had been doing leather work - or rather helping make ridiculous tiny and hugely expensive bags for Maison Goyard in Paris; and a lot of road trip/on foot wandering to explore new places such as Too (!), Montoire, a Plus Beaux village or two and the deep and woody stretches of Le Foret de Bercé.

The weather was kind to us, and to add to the R. T experience we came across the sort of French restaurant which seem to be a rarity now, a 'relais' offering hearty food and run by a super organised family team catering for everyone from locals to bikers, walkers and lorry drivers. The dog didn't partake as she'd had 'teatime' and was happy to bask in the sun on the back seat and dream of woodland rabbits. I opened for the menu (not with the included wine unlike all the lorry drivers and work persons) and I could have made do with the huge starter of goat cheese and tomato pie. The following course of chicken, sausage stew with peppers was delicious but I actually gave them the included sides back as I never could have eaten them too, and I had to leave a tiny space for the 'Isle Flottant' - the best I can remember eating.

                                                                       Isle Flottant

The following day was rainy and dark. I packed up our stuff and meandered cross country stopping between showers to let the dog continue her research, and to stop for a couple of hot chocolates in order to sketch the interiors of cafés that time forgot.

Many years back I started a Loo Diary - these small rooms where one is alone (normally) for a little while, contemplating the weirdness or ordinariness of the four walls. The diary petered out but I might start it again with the blue nightmarish David Lynch loo (above) which had really not been touched since about 1972. In fact the patron must have been the original owner from that epoch as I noted the ancient sign stating Bar de Marius, and heard a client saying 'Salut Marius as they arrived and proceeded to order a chilled rosé at 10 in the morning.

                                                              Café sketch for a later painting