Nipped 75 miles down to 'the barn' last Wednesday with Georgie, Don and the dogs. Parked halfway up the kilometre long, single-track lane and then legged it to the top. Eventually arrived at the barn and ruined cottage hot and sweaty after struggling through a barbed wire fence and high grass meadow. Bit of a shock to discover two dogs in residence. Spotted them for a split second just as I was about to enter the cowshed. Beat a speedy retreat dragging Sprocket with me. Luckily he didn't see them or there could have been trouble. Lucky too that the dogs didn't attack, or bark, or see Sprocket. Maybe they were wild dogs or maybe they were domesticated dogs just hanging out in the cool of the barn. One thing's for sure: no way was I going in there to check. Whizzed round the back of the barn with Georgie and Don, put Jock on his lead and had a brief conflab about what we should do. Decided to retreat. Georgie and Don took Jock and Sprocket (plus rucksack and various gardening implements - we were planning on spending a few hours cutting back brambles etc.) while I grabbed the rake in case of attack. Luckily no problem. Back down in the shade of the track trees we got stuck into our picnic while J and S briefly cooled off before shouting obscenities at some cows in the woods. Thought their barking might cause the wild(?) dogs to come and investigate. But luckily, it didn't. Picnic over, we descended the track back to the car, trimming overhanging branches and brambles on our way. ('The barn' is in the distance at top of top photo.)
Daft as it sounds I still harbour dreams about that barn and ruin. But... http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z6XGjxjETis
Back at the car we thought about heading into Beaulieu-sur-Dordogne for a late afternoon cuppa but Georgie suggested trying to find some special garden at nearby Lostanges. Eventually found it high up some wooded hill way off the beaten track. Well worth the effort. Marvellous place. Owned and run by a gardening nut who's lived there for thirty years. Grown the woods and garden from nothing. Being a self-confessed non-gardener I'm totally unable to list all the goodies on show but I did notice some quite remarkable blue things, a splendid little bamboo clump, a magnificent monkey puzzle tree (with very sharp prongs - ouch!) and some interesting flowering cacti as well as an extremely well-fed slug about six inches long which I immediately sent into the next world with a resounding stomp of my right hoof. Nae bother. Jock and Sprock enjoyed their visit, carefully marking specially selected favourite items. Green-fingered Georgie was in her element and enthusiastically informed me of the various plant names which, typically, went in one ear and straight out the other. However, should anyone require further enlightenment, I heartily recommend a visit to the highly entertaining Lostanges garden website which I'm sure is accessible via Google.
Visit over, we once again considered a cuppa run to Beaulieu but decided against it due to time marching on. Pointed the Golf GTi 16v north-east and galloped for home. Stopped off for a quick coffee, Orangina and fag or two at a fave roadside caff in Ste. Fortunade and eventually arrived home at about nineish. Much conversing took place in the car about how such a wonderful garden could only really succeed in France. Presumably the chap who runs it gets a sizeable state grant in order to survive. And a good job too. No way would he survive on income from visitors. And it stops the idyllic place being ruined by car parks, cafes, loos, gift shops, blah, blah, etc. Altogether a cracking day out.
