One day JF took me up to his plot of land overlooking the village (that I subsequently realised was where the pique niques are held) and having shown me a well that he had dug, started to tell me that there was once a roman villa on the site. Looking around at this somewhat barren patch I asked him how he knew. He started to kick around in the dirt and eventually picked up two pieces of clearly identifiable, hand made, roof tiles and the base of a large bowl or dish (I know they're local because they have Castorama printed on the underside - French joke!). I keep them and treasure them to this day.
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It's cloudy today, and we're all a bit 'jaded' so whilst both the girls clean and polish, I watch the tennis. Not wanting them to feel left out, I kept shouting the score. I'm that kind of man.
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