Our village Maire is at last marrying off his son on Saturday. This has brought us considerable benefit already …
For, you see we live on the cross-roads by the church.
The Maire lives 200 yards down our road to the west.
His son – a lovely lad – lives, with his long term fiancé and their kids, 200 yards down the road to the south.
For the last week our Maire has lived on our two roads; just those 400 yards, directing all kinds of heavy state machinery.
The roads around our house have been manicured to perfection. Hedge-cutters, ditch-excavators, road-diggers, road sweepers have been going all day. The electrics have been tidied and the drains cleared. They even remembered to collect our bins this week. Ah! And now the bracing smell of fresh tarmac is wafting across our deckchairs.
Maires have such power in France!
It’s rather magnificent. We say that because we're not complaining, of course; our place has never looked so neat!
And – going on past experience – the nuptial feast on Saturday will be a wonderful finale to our holidays.
Home to England on Monday.
Visit laithwaites.co.uk
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