Yesterday Lady Magnon was walking the dogs, when a distinctive Dutch motorcar pulled up beside her.
The dogs went mad, the Dutchies rolled down their window, and Lady M listened attentively as the dogs tore off (complete with their leads) into the distance.
"Do you know where is 'Cap du Bost'?" they asked.
Cap du what? asked Lady M.
Cap du Bost, Cap du Bost, Lumberjack!
Never heard of it, she replied, just as two small girls turned-up struggling to control the retrieved dogs.
Then Fabienne (a neighbour) arrived, and they thrust a hand drawn map at the two women, the two girls, and the two dogs.
They all looked at it, turned it upside down, looked at the back, and declared 'Ce n'est pas évident'.
Then Jean-Claude arrived on his tractor. He looked at the map, turned it upside down, looked at the back, and said it could possibly be somewhere down near the saw mill.
Eventually they all agreed that they didn't know where it was, and suggested that it was probably best to start again at the roundabout, which was the only bit of the map that anyone recognised.
An hour or two later we were enjoying a cold beer by the pool, when Lady M suddenly jumped up and pointed to the distance. 'There they are!' she shouted, as she spotted their car heading uphill towards the church (miles from the roundabout).
Then ten minutes later she said 'There they are AGAIN!' as they came back down the hill again.
Maybe they eventually found their Gite
, maybe they didn't. Maybe they gave up and returned to Holland.
Finding lost foreigners is part of everyday life now that Summer's here!