A group of us set of to see a castle, at Sarah’s prompting. I would love to tell you all about the Castle itself, but I’m not an approved historian. What I will say is, it was old, made of stone and at the top of a mountain in the middle of nowhere.
As it turns out 30km on a “green road” refers to only the vertical change, it’s actually about 9million miles in terms of diesel consumption, along the narrowest switchback road imaginable, barely wide enough to maneuver my Volvo S80. On only one occasion did I drive us where there was no road, but nobody died. In my defense my eyes were closed, so it wasn’t my fault.
After clambering all over the damned thing we headed home and stopped in the spa town of Rennes-le-bain, where we could bathe in the thermal spring with a group of the nastiest looking hippies (and their dogs) in all of France.