One side of the ridge shrouded in dark clouds, the other bright and sunny. Bob and Sophie are oblivious to the chill wind that's blowing in from the Bay of Biscay. The same cannot be said for their owner.
The white dog on the balcony above the optician barks at us. The duo bark back. Too cold to sit outside the cafe so we wander inside and take a table at the back between the chewing gum dispenser and a pile of broken chairs. The beer and absinthe crowd wave. A bowl of water is noisily consumed. After she's had a drink Sophie's beard gives her a Lenin like look. The croissant bearing waitress receives a wet and enthusiastic kiss.
The fancy bakers wife is still in an irritable mood. It's either post-natal depression or the little one has started teething. I ask her what an ' eclair Saint Domingue ' is. '' It's an eclair made with Saint Domingue chocolate '' she replies testily.
Home by 8.30. The duo leap out of the back of the car and head off at high speed towards the woodshed. The errant cat is still sneaking in late at night and peeing there. The PONs are incensed .