I didn't do anything ...

... like as much as I wanted to do today, which was something of a disappointment.

We started off on the wrong foot when I telephoned Nikon to see how they were progressing with the repairs to the camera. Seems that they didn't receive the authority to do the work, despite me posting it off a month ago. So I now have to do all of that again. GRRRRRRRRR!

So after a couple of hours on the computer I went outside to start to cut the wood to make the window frames but although I managed to cut all of the pieces, that was about that for the phone rang. Marianne was in need of a lift to St Hilaire to plan her walk for 10 days time.

 St Hilaire is another village a little like Chateau-sur-Cher in that the church is situated on a mound on a promontory with an excellent view. And while the history of Chateau-sur-Cher is well-known, almost nothing is known of the history of St Hilaire. Nevertheless, the mound and the strategic position are very suggestive of a Dark-Age fort of some kind and it's well-known in many similar villages that the church on the mound started off as a tiny chapel somewhere within the fortress and the church expanded as the fortress declined.

Marianne didn't have much information on the village but we went for a good prowl around and found tons of interesting stuff, as well as having a few chats with the locals one of whom was not in the least pleased to see a couple of people wandering around looking at his house.

At another house we were invited in for a drink and we had a guided tour of the old lady's biscuit tin with all the photos, press cuttings and the like, including a newspaper from 1921 with the obituary of her grandfather, one of just seven survivors of the legendary Charge de Reichshoffen in 1870. And so going from knowing very little to knowing quite a lot was the work of just an hour and a half.

On the way home I took Marianne on a little detour. We are working on a project about the old railway line from Montlucon to Gouttieres and while I was out the other week I managed to find the railway station at St Fargeol. Marianne didn't know where it was and so I took her there to see it and to photograph it for our research.



But I dunno why they call it St Fargeol station as it's miles and miles away from the village. It's bizarre. No wonder the line closed after just 8 years.

Tomorrow is Saturday and I'll be off to Commentry shopping I hope. But I'm going to have to do better than this for working if I'm going to treat myself to an autumn break a little later.