A good traveler has no fixed plans and is not intent on arriving.
They must be English I thought, and indeed, a moment later, the unmistakeable twang of a south London accent complaining about the weather confirmed I was right.
So, as I was saying, Pips carried on over the bridge and then returned beckoning me frantically. I followed.rn
What a pretty little village, there was a museum, a gite d'Etape, a 12th Century Priory, and a church almost as old. However, what first attracted our attention was the view through a half-closed door into a garden with a tree and a few tables underneath. A place for lunch.