At last – a walk out into the countryside around the Retreat . Maybe there will wild boar, wolves or even bears. The wheat has just been harvested so there are short stalks where mice and voles scurry and there must be raptors feeding on them somewhere.
“Is that an owl?” I ask one of the chaps. Three of us have set off on this walk: one to have an accident, one to stay with them and one to go for help, as Akela used to tell my brother and his fellow cubs.
“No, Tanya, it’s a bit of wood,” one of the boys tells me.
“Are you sure it’s not an eagle owl?” I say. The eagle owl is sitting on a platform, up a tree, surveying the voles and mice in the field.
“It’s definitely not an owl,” my chum says. “Look, if we keep going, get round the front of it, you’ll see.”
And indeed, it turns out to be a bit of wood and not an owl at all.
The walk is not devoid of wildlife interest though: we find a dead lizard, some big mushrooms and a huge bright orange slug.
We don’t encounter any gorgeous French chaps out walking their dogs or driving their tractors. We don’t see any other humans at all in the whole hour we’re out. The opportunities for a Holiday Romance are somewhat restricted by the lack of any other humans anywhere.
The Dutch chap has been messaging me with details of his holiday, including a Medieval Fayre with jousting and minstrels. Obviously I’m not going to meet up with him though: he’s on holiday with his daughter! There’s a 6 foot 6 Italian/French volleyball player on Tinder who looks very tasty. I’m not going to meet him either – just having a look.
Am not meant to be having a holiday romance, I remind myself. Am meant to be Writing. Romance can wait for a few more days, till I get back home and crack on with the local Tinder chaps.