The smell of rotisserie chicken, and loud bad pop music greet me as I turn the corner into the mediaeval town square of Belves, in Perigord. Stalls are set up all outside the covered centre. Almost next to Sophie’s bread stall is a very old woman selling plums and pigeons.
The mediaeval towns of Perigord have beautiful open squares. Under the worn sandstone arches are the antique shops selling expensive crockery, cutlery, lamps, prints and bad paintings. We settle for a rosé at a café table in the sun. Max complains that my drawing makes him look like a thug… but he is wearing a vest.
We lie on the bank of the Dordogne, Gill and Max snoozing. I try to draw the shallow, fast-running water (thinking of Leonardo’s sketches, but, well…)
If It's Munday... 