A dog jam and an election.

The exit poll called for Labour to win 420 seats. This morning that number seems pretty much on track.  The victory and concession speeches - for the most part - delivered with courtesy and dignity. Democracy , with all its checks and balances, is a wonderful thing.

We chat with an old friend at the Sorbonne who thinks the far right will win around 230 seats out of 577 in Sundays French election.  If she's right that's certainly well shy of the majority they were hoping for.  Common sense seems to be reasserting itself - in Europe at least. Our friend has a wonderful apartment on the Place des Vosges and from the background noise it sounds as if she's enjoying a lively end of term dinner party before heading to Menerbes to avoid the Olympics.

Yesterday, as we left the courtyard to go to vote the contrails of two jets formed a Saltire in the sky. A very Milvian Bridge sign of change on  an election day.

The two ladies in the village hall overseeing the voting informed us that they have to stay until ten at night even though all the villagers had voted by two thirty. That's a 15 hour shift. They admit to getting a little bored. A car comes at ten fifteen and transports the ballot box to Glenrothes. That signals the end to their day.

There was , surprisingly, a Reform candidate on the ballot paper. Unusual in this most liberal constituency.  It seems he lives in Horsham, which is a town in England. He got under 5% of the vote. He did however get more votes than the Tory candidate which says something although I 'm not sure what.

A dog jam on the small bridge by the harbour. The fishermans black labradors refuse to move for a poodle and two Schnauzers. A ginger furry dog arrives and 'complicates' matters. Leads get intertwined. Two more dogs - and their owners - show up. It is canine chaos. We back track and head up the hill and detour to the Italian coffee shop for an espresso boost.

The gates to Mary Queen of Scots House look quite the thing in the morning sun.

On our way home the dog jam has gone and a solitary heron is patiently looking for fish. The harbour has silted up again.

The breakfast programme is doing 'modern' American music. Being the BBC modern is interpreted as anything written in the last 100 years. This is todays offering :https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UbETEBCIW5U  It probably doesn't fit in with todays political mindset on either side of the Atlantic.