Day 10 - Digoin to Montchanin (47 miles)

I headed east along yet another winding canal under a morning sky that seemed to hold the promise of rain later in the day. The canal led to countryside; narrow hedge lined lanes, weaving their way along the bottom of valleys and a landscape similar to yesterday’s. In fact the whole morning was very similar to yesterday, just toned down somewhat:  the canal was shorter, the hills were fewer and the wind, while still making its presence known, was significantly less.

Today's frustration was lunch, or rather lack of. For some reason I had my mind set on a chicken or egg salad, so at each village I would head for the church spire if the route did not take me there. My reasoning: the church is at the heart of the village, the square will be by it, and on the square I would find a restaurant or bar where I could eat. Or so I thought. I found hairdressers. I found tattoo shops. Sometimes I found both. But I did not find my bar where I could relax with a light lunch while contemplating the village square and the world beyond. Such is the way of the modern world.

Nice Square - No Bar

There was still Montceau-les-Mines, a former coal mining town but with its glory days behind it. I expected it to be well served with eateries but again I was to be disappointed. I entered on a road lined with the grey, rectangular towers of characterless flats, and with bill boards excitedly proclaiming more to come. Following signs to the centre seemed to lead me only to big car parks and out-of-town style shopping areas, everything looking plastic and promising consumerist plastic products. The place seemed soulless. I would have settled for plastic fast food by this stage had I passed somewhere but I was already off route, regretting it and disinclined to follow the 'McDonalds à seulement 3 minutes' (by car of course) sign. So I turned about and hoped for more luck as I headed out of town and along the last few miles to my destination. It was not to be.

I am now in the private home of an elderly couple on the outskirts of Montchanin having avoided the worst of the rain. The woman is determined to practise her English and has hardly stopped talking. But for a few euros they will feed me well tonight so my missed lunch has turned out to be no great loss. I guess everything happens for a reason.