The weekend off...

When I woke up on Thursday morning I was extremely excited, we were meeting mum, dad & Falky 3 hours away at the Magny Cours Race Circuit. Woo hoo! Stu and I had a lovely lazy morning with a cooked breakfast and then packing a bag, making some sandwiches and packing the car up. The journey from the Correze up to the Bourgogne region is a great one; it took us 20 minutes or so to get on the wonderful open quiet motorway. I can't quite believe I am describing the motorway as a beautiful road, but it was; wide and smooth, no other cars, stunning views winding their way out of the Correze and into the Auvergne - mountains, volcanoes, tree-topped hills, little villages below huge viaducts - stunning! We headed for Moulins where we would stop for a bite and could see a river on the map which would make the perfect spot. When we pulled up we found a beautiful park where a few old men were spending their afternoon in a shady corner playing Boules, there were Kayaks racked up and a small restaurant closed as the summer season had shut down, we knew it would have been busy there a few weeks ago. But we didn't want busy, we layed our picnic blanket out on the grass by the river, Moulins stood proud right in front of us on the other side; a mix of new and old with modern apartments in the forefront of our view and beautiful old steeples standing tall at the back, beckoning you in to an older more telling Moulins behind. We relaxed for a while staring up at the blue sky, Stu was teaching me to find shapes in the clouds and then just laughed hysterically at me when I said I could see something that he didn't think was there. He believes he is the King of that game, but I practise secretly when he's not around.

Eventually we found the holiday Inn which sits in an industrial estate on the edge of Magny Cours race circuit. The hotel was wholly uninviting, but that wasn't the point - mum and dad would be getting there soon and that very much was the point. We were early, so unpacked and walked up to the circuit, then came back and got a drink in the bar, finally I got a text 'deux bieres et un vin blanc s'il te plait', it was my mum's best french and I knew they were close. We went outside and stood up on a wall where we could see them coming and waving madly as the roar of the Ferrari and the sneeze of Puffing Billy came into earshot. The funny bit is we only saw them two weeks ago, but it was fabulous to have them right there with me. We had drinks in the bar catching up on all the bits we hadn't already said in texts and emails and then dinner - thankfully as we are in France, the food was good which seems to be the case no matter where you are.

The next morning we met for breakfast at 8am keen to get out to the circuit but the heavens had opened and the circuit wasn't looking like such an interesting option. When we got there we had a quick look around the pit, some serious boys testing their two porsches with a full team wearing all the same clothes, diagnostics, truck etc., a fabulous Aston Martin - again serious bit of racing kit, a few people like us that looked slightly less professional but were attempting to appear professional at all times and then there was us; we ran in the rain back to Graham's motorhome, where we proceeded to spend the next two hours drinking tea and chatting; much more civilised! We had a viewing booked that day, so after lunch mum, stu and I got in the car and left dad and falky to fathom out what to do about the weather.

I had been keen to see this property as, although it was well over our budget, it was offering a four bedroom gatehouse which was fully renovated and ready to move into with a gigantic mill house that needed total renovation and a three bay, two storey garage area with pits. It seemed to me on paper that we could perhaps sell off the gatehouse and then work our magic on the mill house, which of course had a river running along side it and use the garage space well for the business of running bike tours. When we got there, my heart sank - the buildings were far more on top of one another than I had pictured in my mind. The owner, a strange english man who spoke and acted as though he was old, but who probably wasn't that old - but that could have been because his hair was blonde but definitely looked like it should have been grey, anyway - him, the old but not so old owner showed us around in a very frantic kind of way, it was all a bit...well...strange! The house was functional but boring, 4 huge bedrooms with wooden floors and fireplaces, big windows - all the features, but we just didn't take to it. Although there was a fair bit of land it was in small sections all over the place, up steps here and down steps there, which left no one piece big enough to kick a ball around on and then there was the mill. The Mill was HUGE, four or five floors, i couldn't really be sure, very wide, very deep tonnes of windows and doors everywhere. It still had some of the old workings and they were just stunning, we knew we had enough vision to incorporate these workings into renovated rooms, but it was big and dark with holes in the roof and drips running from top to bottom. We could see the potential, but you would need a million quid and then you could turn it into a boutique hotel. It was out of our league.

We drove back to the circuit, Dad & Falky were already back at the hotel as the circuit had shut and so we all freshened up and then met back in the bar. We had another nice meal and then moved on to the upstairs pool area, which we had all to ourselves. It was the kind of room that with it's leather sofas and oak beams should have been lovely, but it was cold and empty and we had to make it our own, I moved the furniture around, Falky went and got his laptop so we had some 'tunes', we ordered our drinks and felt much better. Game started, we bet centimes whilst sipping our drinks and had a thoroughly lovely evening. I was rubbish, there's no denying it, mum turned out to listen and learn quickly and made some beautiful shots, dad managed to beat Falky every time, by fluke mainly, but in a cool way that only dad could (and then came down to breakfast the next morning quietly singing about his victory kind of under his breath but still loud enough so that falky could hear), I also managed to beat falky unfortunately it was due to his error and definitely nothing to do with my skill, but nonetheless (like father like daughter) I did mount the table and shape my thumb and forefinger into the 'Loser' position on my forehead just in case anyone had missed that I was the winner of that game, and then there was Stu - he was the king of pool (just like the clouds), unlike the waters, he was much more subtle and quiet about being a winner. Well, come on, there isn't room for two people like that in a relationship!

The next morning we set off in convoy to our second viewing in the Allier region. Our big diesel peugeot tank led, followed by either falky in Puffing Billing or mum and dad in the Ferrari depending on who had overtaken who. Stu had set the cruise at the speed limit on most roads and when Falky drove along side us waving his arms in a 'get a move on' kind of way, we knew we weren't going fast enough for him. We, or rather our 'convoyers' caused rather a stir as we drove around the edge of Vichy, through the market. As we left Vichy and started climing the twisty roads up towards the village we were looking for I had to remind stu that the little boys waving on the side of the road were not waving at us, it was the Ferrari that had made their day and us revving our engine really didn't have the same effect as dad dipping the clutch and blipping the throttle. I reckon mum and dad will have made a lot of people happy during their road trip, the passion for the Ferrari is something to be seen to be believed. The house was too isolated and not for us, so we made our way back down the twisty roads into Vichy, where we parked up in a very grand street we could have been in Chelsea or Manhatten, then walked along the river and found a restaurant for our final lunch.

Falky was travelling east to Grenobles, mum and dad were going north towards Paris and we were going South West towards Brive; we decided we would be like the red arrows as we all drove off. We said our goodbyes and we followed the Ferrari out of Vichy towards the motorway; we trusted their Sat Nav more than my map reading skills to get us out of such a large town. As we drove through the peage, they went north and we went south and mum's little arm stuck out of the window waving to us. We were driving with no convoy again, it was sad, I turned to Stu with a tear in my eye and said 'All good things come to an end'.