From Jerbourg we walked up and down a million stairs and along the cliffs to Fermaine, and then on to town. At this point feeling I could not walk another step we got on a bus back to St. Martin's and got some wine, donuts and a bizarre scotch egg and went back to the hotel.
We had been invited to dinner by Pete's poet friends, and before long Richard collected us from La Barbarie and we headed up north to his and Jane's lovely home. They have two attractive honey coloured dogs who are so well behaved that they ignored all overtures from me in case they should be impolite.
We had some wine and chatted. Jane had made a wonderful meal for us which was decorative as well as delicious with a starter that included figs that I have committed to memory, but I will not attempt to make the dessert!
We talked a lot about a wide range of interesting things, and I heard some of their poetry which was fascinating. In the spirit of the moment I began declaiming the only Shakespeare sonnet that I know by heart, only to find that my mind went blank before the punch line ( I blame the red wine), and thinking of this the next day, caused me to cringe more than somewhat.
Sadly the taxi driver arrived on time, and we had to return to the hotel.
This was such a nice evening, and good company that I will not forget it.