And so did Hollandé return from his summer palace, refresh’ed and once more ready to enter the fray. For daily had he there bathed in ass’s milk, his brow soothed by sea zephyrs and his body anointed in precious oils. Thus did his entourage travel with purpose back to the capitol, though the messiah did note’eth the lack of palm fronds strewn in his path, for the peasants, so recently enamored of his promises, had seen’eth aught for their support appear upon their meager tables.

High summer’s passed, but it’s still over 30° - and though our flip flops are no longer melting, the pool’s still the only sensible place to be. If you do venture out into the heat, a day trip au plage will involve leaving at some God forsaken pre dawn hour and taking pot luck with the Bordeaux morning traffic - although with a hefty dose of luck you’d avoid most of it and be dipping your toes in the Atlantic by breakfast time.  Trouble is that an easy journey isn’t guaranteed, it’s swiftly hot enough to fry eggs on the car roof and once on the beach there’s no escape from the sun, other than under the fishing pier - where everyone else has already set up camp.

As the summer holidays come to an end, Monpazier sheds its holiday makers and becomes a normal village once more - and we’re free to enjoy the everyday life we all had at the end of June. But before the school run starts again, there’s the annual dash to buy all the equipment the kids need. The supermarkets are stuffed with row upon row of rentrée dedicated stuff - paper, pens, bags - everything and anything your children may need (and loads that they don’t) for the new term.