This is a tiny town in Bretagne that goes absolutely crazy with Christmas lights. We meet up with Hans and Heike, share food and traveller stories and wander into town to see the incredibly involved Christmas decorations, complete with dropping icicle lights, cascades and stars, and some huge nativity scenes that have all sorts of animals in them in addition to the usual ox and donkey. The next morning, we hunt for an internet connection but everything is closed. A young woman takes pity on us and invites us to use the internet at her house. This is how we meet Nick and Sophie, both French but fluent in English. They recently have moved back to France, having bought one of the large, medieval houses of which there are so many in this village, and doing up another for holiday lets. Nick is a physiotherapist, still occasionally working in London, and when he hears of Frank’s back problem, he gives him a treatment there and then. There is so much passion coming across for his profession, for his particular method and for helping people to heal. Nick and Sophie are a young, dynamic couple in the thick of creating their lives, with two delightful school age children floating in and out of the living room at different points. We talk about Tango too, and it captures their imagination, but as often with people busy with smaller children, there seems to be no energy at the end of the day to start something new. However, Nick suggests that next time we pass, he’ll drum up a group of people to have a workshop. Who knows…

In the evening, we drop a glass of Frank’s orange marmalade outside their door – a small gesture of thanks for the treatment and a little note to say good-bye. This truly was one of these special meetings one can have when in travelling mode.

On my way down to the van, I stop by the horse that’s in the field adjoining the one we’re parked in. I try out calling the horse in the way we learned from Charles about two years ago. The horse pricks up her ears and comes clopping over. We stand each side of the fence and commune with each other. After about 30 seconds the horse starts to yawn and yawn (or stretch her mouth in a strange way). I need to find out what that means in horse language, because often when I’m on my own with a horse, they seem to do that. After a few minutes, Frank joins me – the horse instantly stops her stretching exercises.

The nights are frosty and cold now, we use quite a bit of wood to keep our stove going. It’s time we head down south! The next morning, we set off early into a beautiful misty dawn.


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