It’s a pleasant drive from Daglan to neighbouring Cénac-et-Saint-Julien, if you head out of our village over the Pont Neuf on the D-60 (the “D” designates departmental roads, which are usually well maintained). After you cross the bridge, you follow the road as it turns to the right (on your left is Bunny Meadows, you may remember) and drive for exactly five kilometres until you reach the D-46, where you turn left and head over the big hill into Cénac.
What’s particularly nice about that five-kilometre drive is the combination of the winding road and the scenery. Once you’re past the turn-off to Bouzic, the landscape consists of a forested hill on your left, and a mix of forest and cattle-grazing pasture on the right. Here’s a look at the road, showing the hill on the left.
And here’s a look at the pasture land on the right, as photographed this afternoon (Monday).
But yesterday, this was a drive with a bit of a difference. As I drove to Cénac to buy weekend newspapers, I counted a total of five men with bright orange caps walking slowly in the pastures — the caps signifying that they were hunters, with guns held in the crooks of their arms. All of which was fine with me, although I have to confess I was a bit uncomfortable that one of the hunters turned and watched me so carefully as I drove past. Surely, I thought, you couldn’t mistake a silver-grey Volkwagen for a deer. Could you?