The epitome of French Countryside...

The madame on the left was our hostess for one of the Chambres d'Hotes near Chinon. When asked about a good Boucherie (butcher), she recommended the one run by the madame on the right, who proceeded to stuff me silly with samples of her produce. I didn't complain one bit...

This is perhaps the only pretty memory of our visit to the Le Musee Papillon (butterfly museum). The curator was bizarre and spoke most passionately about how "...zee uh, butterfly copulaTION! Ha ha!". We were very nervous in his shop as he seemed very capable of giving us the same treatment used to preserve this brilliant butterfly!

This church was photographed at 11:00pm on our way home from a lengthy provincial dinner.

This stand of trees surrounded a lake.  Having spent more than twice the amount of time trying to locate this poorly signed spot, we were let-down by the puddle of water.

My 26th birthday. After gorging myself on veal steaks and drowning it with a bottle (or two), I had to work it off somehow... but that day, it seemed like the logs were levitating off the wheelbarrow or something... hic!

This is my niece, Meg. She doesn't like to sit in her car-seat while lovely countryside whooshes by.

Speaking of which, don't be fooled by these idyllic spots... we desecrated them into comfort-stops. Heh.

After a few mishaps at finding lunch, our sugar levels soared even as the spirit did likewise (the one in our bloodstreams...)

At the bottom of the little hill, lies a tiny stream feeding pools of water from which silvery fish can be found...

But this poor bloke caught more air than fish...

Les Essards advertised a restaurant with fine food but delivered mediocre fare. So disappointed was little Meg that she decided to end her astonishing period of binge'ing by projectile vomiting in the premises... prompting the quip Les es 'arf!

All for the camera! The windblown drizzle couldn't taint these smiles.

Our very own French connection occurred when we hosted a BBQ for the sprawling neighbourhood of Le'Epine--population 6 (or something like that). And so Meg found Darryl and called him "boy!".