As it was Bastille day and we were unsure what would be open later, we stupidly paid for breakfast at the motel which we turned up for as it was closing. A sad array of half baked products and watery remnants of scrambled egg. Even for 7 euros it was poor value.
The weather had cheered up so we decided to climb up the Puy de Dome, the volcano which sat guard over Clermont. Sun was out and spirits were high, but as we got close we noticed cars parked all over the place overflowing from the carpark. It turns out that on Bastille day it is traditional to climb the volcano. We quickly abandoned these plans and programmed Tom Tom for La Cazotte in the Aveyron area, which would-be our home for the next week and a bit. All the shops were closed and we worried about lunch. However on our way down the mountains we came across a rogue boulangerie who had opened their doors with a huge queue of French outside. 10 minutes later we were armed with two hefty Pan Bagnat. The journey was swift and beautiful. The sun shone most of the way and the A75 motorway, which seemed all viaduct, took us through some of the most beautiful areas of France. Soaring canyons and verdant meadows. We stopped for a sandwich at Msr Gustav Eiffels elegant viaduct then sped onto Rivecave.
Out friend Adam greeted us warmly and we dumped our bag finally. Adam had thoughtfully made English food as I had said that we were a bit tired of french for a short while, and we had a delicious fish pie and steamed sponge pudding. Bliss.