It seems I am a walker still. My legs did not perish in the aftermath of VBW. And Gay is a walker as well, although she has been rather more diligent than me - as far as exercise goes - since we arrived home a week ago - she has been running every other day - she took her running stuff with her on the Big Walk but only managed to get in one gambol with Jean Dolan while we were staying with Jean and Bernard.
This morning we returned to our pre-VBW Saturday morning activity of climbing down into Quillan and up again - a fall of about 300 metres, followed by a climb of over 350 metres, and a distance covered of 13 kms.
There is a small market at Quillan of a Saturday, which is whence the pictures hail. The donkey is the advance marketing and PR representative of a team which finds itself hired out as pack-donkeys for wayfarers. So it should survive longer than all those donkeys I saw as I ploughed through France, which I eventually realised are destined for the sausage machine.
The other picture, also from the market, is of the famous Curry Fred. Fred is having great success in supplying various curry sauces to the folk of the area. He is also engendering a bit of surprise in a big proportion of his customers is French. The French are not known for their love of spices so it must be Fred's silver tongue which is leading them down the hot road.
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