An hour later, while we are having breakfast, the kayakers arrive and start running the course but by the time Ali goes across with her camera they are finishing.
We want to go via St Savin which means going back through Angles-sur-l'Anglin although today we expect to see the usual 'Toutes Direction' [all routes] sign for a peripheral road, but no, it's back through the narrows like yesterday. Then we come to the chateau, glowing a warm sandstone colour in the sunshine, so we pull in for some photos. We also discover there is are dedicated moho parking spaces nearby.
The chateau is atop of some craggy rocks and what are signed as footpaths are rough steps hewn into the rock more suited to Sherpa evaluation trials than casual visitors. Opposite the chateau is the sunny terrace of a restaurant, le Donjon du Bacchus, offering crepes and mulled wine on the blackboard of the day. This is definitely somewhere to spend more time in warmer weather.
No doubt the couple, hatted and scarved, who power up the hill with the throaty sound of their Austin Healey 3000 roadster echoing off the stonework, would also like a warmer day.
We leave Angles-sur-L'Anglin, passing the weir at the bottom of the hill, and follow bouncy roads through soggy farmland with either rich, brown soil or vibrant green shoots of new crops all the way to St Savin, a town we visited a couple of years ago. On that day we went inside the church and saw the amazing painted patterns on the columns and walls as well as the beautifully painted ceiling, but today we want to see the other side, the back of the abbey and the Roman bridge.
The abbey and church back onto a wide stretch of the river Gartempe the other side of which is a paddock where donkeys and sheep are grazing. In today's sunshine we see the detailing of the buildings which was lost in the gloomy greyness of our previous visit. Likewise, the Roman bridge shows up its detail with the pale stone arches reflecting in the water.
A short way from St Savin we stop in Antigny, another of the little timewarp villages so common in this region.
The village green, now surrounded by pollarded trees, was one the graveyard and in its centre is a lantern du mort or funeral chimney.
Opposite the green, the little Romanesque church, according to the information board, has walls with paintings dated back to the 15th C and research indicates the existence of a people being on its site in the 1st C. Sadly a notice on the church door says it is kept locked for security. Behind the church the Gartempe thunders over another of its many weirs.
We continue towards Lussac-les-Chateaux along a badly deformed road more suited to Italy than France, but it is an attractive ride through the woods of the Bois de Borgogne. Once in Lussac-les-Chateaux we find the aire in the busy central car park. It would be fine for visiting the town but we fancy something more attractive for a night stop. There is another place near the municipal campsite a mile away on the riverbank. We arrive and immediately double the number of vehicles in the car park, the only other one being a French moho.
Ali takes a recce along the path to the old bridge and yet another weir [we've lost count of weirs today]. Notices tell of strong resistance activity during 1943-44 and the ambush of a German convoy on the bridge with numerous casualties for both sides.
Before the sun sets behind the trees we are joined by five more mohos plus an ancient but tidy Kermit green Mercedes truck serving a young family on their travels.
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