— 20 Jul 2013, 15:34 by Maison Claire Fontaine
8 am: I had an earliesh night last night. When a certain teacher (with chocolate round her lips) asked, seriously, 'What colour is white?' I reckoned enough was enough. Happily this morning, the sun is in the sky, not a cloud in sight, the schizophrenic weather forecasts have all decided that it is glorious sunshine from now on in, hooray! Today the boys are going to shop for their own lunch in Avallon and then visit the basilica in Vezelay this afternoon. Ce soir, it is off for the posh meal, hope you all packed ties for your little boys! Details will follow. I am just praying that my cricinfo app gets enough reception wherever we are and that the England middle order shows a bit of backbone. Come on, chaps, another 150 odd runs should be all we need.
12.40 pm The boys are back from the market and have presented their lunch creations. The MCF took one look and got on to their Raymond Blanc hotline to give the world renowned chef the latest top tips on cutting edge ideas for hitherto undreamed of flavour combinations. Banana and watermelon was my particular favourite. The Year 7s' effort was groundbreaking in its minimalism, a meal consisting of three ingredients; chicken,
strawberries and pain au chocolat. Mrs Edmunds' flavour combinations were interesting too; chocolate dipped in ganache. I am not making this up.
6.20 pm The annual pilgrimage to Vezelay, home to several of Marie Magdalene's hundreds of fingers that are holy relics around the Christian world. It was hot. Really hot. How hot? I hear you ask. I will tell you. Sit down, make yourselves a cup of tea, gather round and hear a tale of heat that your children and your children's children will regale their grandchildren with for years to come:
William 'Wordy' Watson was quiet. Well, quietish.
Okay, he kept talking, and was the only one in my group of four to make any effort at all on climbing the steep hill up to the Basilica to engage the locals with the MCF questionnaire, but it was a defining moment of relative beatific calm and bliss that I will remember forever. Others faded worse.
Freddie Leach, I gather, stopped talking all together. It was that hot.
On the way down the hill, boys were only allowed to buy ice creams, not sweets or overpriced souvenirs. How lovely, I thought, for them to buy some locally sourced gourmet 'glaces'. Malcolm, coach driver extraordinaire and professional chef (honest!), ruined the whole effect when he looked at the make of ice cream and announced:
'Did you know, that's made near Aylesbury!'
Thanks, Malcolm.
The boys are now showering in readiness for the posh meal out. Blog to follow. I hope you all remembered to pack your son's ties. Anyone under-dressed goes to the back of the buffet pudding queue which could spell disaster as I plan on being right at the front. (Sue, if you read this, I truly promise I will stick to the healthy fruit salad option. Really. Unless there is something nicer, obv.)
England lead by 520 runs. So altogether a good day, with one meal to go.
9.20 pm Sue, darling, please look away now.
I am absolutely stuffed. Really, I wasn't joking about that pudding buffet.
Had no idea how many desserts you can actually fit onto a plate at once, I should have been an architect.
The boys, all in ties (okay, Valda had to lend out a few extras, negligent parents should be feeling ashamed), looked so smart and raised their game to behave excellently when it mattered. No, that isn't quite true. One table seemed to think they were at a Greek restaurant and managed to break not one, not two but three glasses. A local record I am assured.
We also had a marriage proposal tonight.
That's got you thinking. You will have to wait until our return to hear more on that one.
I'm off to bed. I really hope sleeping counts as a form of exercise.
