In Bourges

No, not Bruges. Bourges. It's a small city in central France, and we visited there today. Another early start meant that we got into town by mid-morning, and immediately launched ourselves into old-town sightseeing. Bourges is a pleasant place with lots of medieval windy streets; it struck me as rather Belgian, an impression aided by the ancient Gothic cathedral which absolutely towers over the place. No picture could do it justice - taller, older, more ornate than Notre Dame, it was built over hundreds of years and is a stunning testament to the dedication and craftmanship of devout men with simple hand tools. I see buildings like it and cringe at the thought of our time's architectural legacy.

After wandering in awe through the arcades of the cathedral, we decided to balance out our intake of culture with a ride on one of those tacky little "trains" that take slack-jawed tourists like us around World Heritage Sites everywhere. The novelty quickly wore off when we got stuck behind a moving van in a tiny cobbled lane and had to sit there for about fifteen minutes.

After that, we headed to a bistro for some croques madame and a well-earned sit. This was followed by a well-earned shit, as I tried my hand (and feet) at my first ever squat toilet. I was fairly surprised to find one at all, having been in France a fair bit and never come across one, although I think they were fairly common here until relatively recently. Despite squatting being the natural human toilet position - with all the health benefits that implies - I don't think I'll be replacing my lavatory any time soon, favouring the risk of colonic prolapse over wobbling precariously above a hole in the floor.

After some more wandering we came across a kind of road safety awareness event, which was attended by the local fire service and gendarmerie - along with many of their sweet vehicles. In addition to a great many motorbikes, there was a contraption designed to give you the sensation of being in a rolling car, which was essentially a green hatchback built into a rig which spun at high speed. Naturally we all got inside without hesitation, and took it in turns to rotate upside down with nothing but a seatbelt for protection. Our reasoning was basically, "When in France, you might as well take part in a simulated road accident."

Our day concluded with dinner at an Italian restaurant. The portions were absolutely vast, and my meal consisted of chicken stuffed with everything, followed by tiramisu. It was raining by this point but we ate outside nonetheless, shielded by a canopy and kept warm with red wine and raucous laughter. All in all, a good day.

The picture for today is all the assistants except me, with the majestic cathedral looming in the background.