
We ate our
picnic at a pleasant picnic site thoughtfully provided by a major road junction, then drove on, hoping to find a café. A handwritten sign promised coffee up a minor road, doubly mysterious because - we realised later - we had taken a wrong turning earlier, and were not where we thought we were. Nonetheless, we followed it, and found ourselves in the hilltop village of the English. The café was run by English people, and round by the Mairie we found "Les Amis des chats" - a charity shop selling bric-a-brac and English paperbacks to raise funds to neuter the local cats.
So far, so English; but the village has a shop and a café, and derelict buildings were being renovated.