Today has been a scorcher here in Normandy, where it’s been over 30 degrees. We didn’t have the energy to go far, so we just pootled a few kilometres inland to the picturesque village of Beuvron-en-Auge for lunch. It was all half-timbered buildings, little bric-à-brac shops and geraniums.
Sadly, although our lunch was delicious, the service in our chosen crêperie was dreadful, as it has been each time we have eaten out this week. I guess we aren’t big-spending enough. Or maybe the famously rude French are just living up to their reputation.
This tiny wooden cat was for sale at a beautiful traditional toy shop and we had fun with the sign outside.
On the way back we stopped at a tiny Commonwealth Cemetery at the minuscule village of Putot-en-Auge to visit the graves of soldiers who almost all died on the 19th and 20th of August 1944. With a few exceptions, they were between 19 and 21 years old. Poor boys.