We guessed that getting a seat in the bar was going to be difficult as we drove past the hundreds of extra cars parked on the outskirts of Sommieres this morning.
Jan, who's clever like that, mentioned that it was the Sommieres' triathlon, so the place was heaving with slim, athletic, super-fit types (not much like you then - Ed).
However, I felt very relieved because I realised that that sort were never going to crowd us out of the bar.
After a very jolly drink with the usual suspects we drove round to Carrefour for a little shopping. As we pulled into the car park, we met Peter, proving that all the good folk around Sommieres were not slim, athletic and fit.
Poor old Pete, he's got the outlaws staying at the moment and he looked very forlorn as he trundled his trolley around the supermarket. I tried to cheer him up by asking him how come he'd got so little in his trolley when he obviously looks like he 'enjoys his food.'
Quick as a flash he said, 'I haven't even started yet, I've still got to go to Lidl.' That's the Peter I know and love.
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