After Lisbon... France

After the anticipation, preparation and high excitement of Lisbon, it was a different kind of joy to unwind in the northern French countryside of Pas de Calais. Our daughter and her boyfriend welcomed us to their lovely farmhouse home and we proceeded to enjoy all the charms of a tiny French village - from the noisy next-door rooster to the cow who craved human company, the visiting Dutch orchestra, the family jam-producing homestead, and the drives to surrounding Somme battlefields, village markets and sea and riverside towns, it was a feast of new, blissful and picturesque experiences. I would have to spend weeks, slowly, to sketch even a tenth of it, but this was a sociable, and mobile - lots more walking! - time with family and friends, so these were the few scenes I did get into my sketchbook. I hope to get the chance to do lots more some day.  

Sitting on the doorstep of the house, looking out of the gate to 'The Cité' - all of ...six? houses in a row, with the cow's field behind them.

The gateway to The Abbaye, where we gathered one evening with the villagers to listen to the orchestra and choir from Holland - heralded by a march through the town with bagpipes (?!) and a very quaint sort of barrel orchestrion.

The garage housing a very old Landrover that valiantly transported its travellers most of the way round Europe, but depositing them rather suddenly near Barcelona, and needing to be towed back to its resting place under the grape vines.