The French Village Fete

On Saturday, in a village just outside Paris, there was a Fete being held and Charlotte's friends invited us to go along. It was charming and the

setting was glorious. The organisers made a beach for the kids to play in,

stalls showing things that baffled but treated the eye. A good time was had by all and the food was fabulous. Around the corner we

sat under the trees outside the local cafe. A melting pot of nationalities. Charlotte's lovely friends hail from all corners of the world. Her boyfriend Badara is the bloke standing up, he is as black as she is white, when they stand together they look like 2 chess pieces.

A stroll around the village was a treat in itself. Ivy clad lamp posts,

the village Lavoir where the communal washing took place in days of old, even a

place to wash your horse,

a peek into someone's huge garden with it's own woodland,

lilac draped over stone walls,

ancient turrets decorated with wild flowers,

even Calla Lilies grow in the village flower beds, beautifully edged with tiny wicker fencing.

I could have moved into the Bus Stop it was so pretty. Who would mind waiting for a bus in this village?