21.12 Day 96 . . . The Notaire Calls

Yet again we were a bit late getting up and getting going. We had decided to go and see the Christmas Market and lights at Niort today and so had overdone the relaxed morning schedule just a little.
The morning drifted away and after a little lunch we piled into Roxvanne and started our drive to Niort.
On arrival at Niort by way of a change we decided not to try our usual parking spot, but to try the parking area by the river. The sat nav took us straight there and there were only a couple of cars queuing. Within a couple of minutes we were parked up. None of us really fancied getting out as the heavens had opened, but we donned coats and hats and ventured out. Fortunately within a few minutes the rain had eased and we were able to walk the streets without getting drenched.
As we walked down one of the main shopping streets we heard drumming from further along the street. I assumed it was some guy doing his Christmas routine with some pots and pans and a couple of dustbins - as per the UK.
As we approached and saw the crowd, we were pleased to find quite a performance ongoing - two guys on drum kits, that were situated on a three wheel motor bike of some sort with a young girl adding a dance routine amongst the crowd. The dress code was a little stone aged - but you’ll see my point if you watch the video. They were really entertaining, especially when the drum kits started to rotate like a carnival wheel, with the guys still attached to them . . . hard to explain but you’ll see.
Once the performance has ended we walked a few more streets, now entering clothes stores for Munch to have a browse. During this time I had a message to call the Notaires asap, which put the worries into myself and Tre. We popped outside the shop and called - good news . . . everything was fine, we were given some advice on the online forms we would receive and then wished a Happy Christmas by the Notaires . . . .relief.
To celebrate this news, we decided to go to a café we have visited before ‘Le Bouillon’ at Place des Halles, which Tre and I now refer to as “Munch’s Crush Café’, on account of the young guy who works in there. Every time he serves us or comes anywhere near our table, Munch seems to go a funny shade of red, certainly not helped by my smiling and whispered comments about him being close by.
After our usual lovely hot chocolates in the café, we ventured back out. The afternoon had turned into evening and it was now dark, with street lights and Christmas lights now illuminated. Unfortunately the rain had returned and it was truly miserable. We walked the short distance to the Christmas market and tried our best to enjoy it, but it really was a wash out with next to no-one there. The Donjon de Niort which I’ve mentioned before had been illuminated and had a story being told by numerous moving images across its walls. Even this did not attract any crowds.
After a very wet half hour we scooted quickly back to Rox in the car park and loaded up.
We then drove home in constant rain, stopping only at an Intermarché to grab some pizza’s.
Once home we quickly stuck the pizza’s in the oven and just chilled for the evening. Pizza’s and wine, TV and then bed.
Not the most successful of days - apart from of course, the call from the Notaire . . . well pleased.Leia mais