It was just me, and God. Other than that, the columns and arches of the Saint Jean church in Joigny loomed over a vast empty and hollow but glorious space. There had been someone else - a woman pinning an announcement to a notice board - but after she left, with a loud bang of the church door, possibly to suggest I shouldn't be there - there was just me. And silence. And God, most likely. I mean, if there was ever a good time to reveal his capital H self to me, ...

'Non, non, non!' she tutted as she wrenched the fitted sheet from my hands. She located two of the corner seams, pinched them between her thumbs, then nodded to me to grab the other end likewise. I wasn't quick enough and suffered a further tirade of 'non, non's until my seamsmanship was perceived to be up to scratch. 'Voila!' she announced, and we danced the dance of the fold: coming together, stepping back, swinging arms, coming together. All that was missing ...

We left Cezy in hot sunshine and cruised only a short distance to the town of Joigny, which provides an attractive backdrop to the river Yonne. The town is built on a hillside, and above it are acres of vines stretching to the hilltop. Joigny used to be a port from where charcoal was barged, but its canal commerce days seem to be over, other than having a boat hire place for those who want to rent a boat and explore the Yonne, or the Nivernais or Bourgogne Cana...