After a fond farewell to our delightful hosts, we head down the highway amusing ourselves by singing Jersey boys out of key, admiring the rolling hillsides and choosing our ‘toff’* names as we enter the Bordeaux region. Our newest accommodation doesn’t disappoint…in fact we are in awe…the Chateau de Mirambeau is actually a neo-Gothic castle!
After the formalities of checking in we are shown our rooms and shortly after find a welcome tray with a bunch of red roses, petit fours and a personally written welcome letter from the owner. Our rooms are pure opulence…too, too over the top to describe…photos will have to do. Luxurious bubble bath in a great big marble bath, glass of wine, then down to the dining room where we indulge in a Degustation menu.
Vacillating between ‘this boiled egg filled with yolk, foam and truffle, toast fingers and truffle shaving is yummy’; and ‘what on earth is this small glass of transparent pink liquid a fish swam through about?’ and 10 courses later we conclude this Chef is either a budding El Bulli or a junior master chef with lofty aspirations…either way, an intriguing menu to be sure!

Sated we yearn to wallow in our luxury, a good night digesting required in preparation for an exploration of Chateau de Beaulon and a tipple of Cognac tomorrow.
Our ‘toff’ names?
Richard (Dicky) Seville Lyons the third – Ross
Fifi de Murgatroid Lyons – Jenny
Penelope Bogsworth Winterton – Jane
Perfectly suited to the occasion don’t you think?

Today we learn of Osama Bin Laden’s elimination. A time for reflection on the war on Terror. Right now, so happy to be with my buddies exploring this beautiful part of France for who knows what tomorrow will bring..

of Chateau Cheverny, located in Sologne near Blois. Now we are in awe…what a spectacular building, long yet shallow, each room filled with rich tapestries, opulent furnishings and an amazing history as one would expect of a home of this ancestry. This magnificent place has been in the Hurault family for 6 centuries, they live in one wing. Reminds me very much of Franz Josef’s palace in Vienna.




One million royal wedding revelers minus three…that’s us! Eurostar to Paris, Jen and I catch snippets of the wedding on the hire car office TV while Ross prepares the paperwork…we concur…Pippa’s frock is elegantly exquisite, Posh and Becks take the award for ‘uber cool’, Queen Lizzie quite resplendent in butter yellow…we learn later via Twitter that the newly married couple take Will’s Dad’s Aston Martin, resplendent with ‘just married’ balloons, for a spin and collectively conclude that’s a most impressive ‘finger’ to tradition.
our cards or take cash…a wonderful little Frenchman named Thierry coming to our rescue, sympathetic to our plight to the point of gifting us with freshly baked loaves of fabulous bread plus posies of Lilly of the Valley for Jenny and me…possibly resulting from our many broken French platitudes of appreciation translating to the equivalent of ‘marry me’…this beautiful man quickly dispelled the old ‘french are typically arrogant’ myth.