Following a trip to a village that had been completely flattened during the fighting and now was simply two roads set in a T shape, a tiny church at one end with the remains of the church that had once stood there inside. Along the road were posts marking each house and what it's inhabitants did for a living. The ground was littered with potholes but the verges were beautifully manicured and the quiet took your breath away.
From there we headed to the fort, just a mound in the ground as far as I could see but when we climbed to the top the view was incredible, miles and miles of unbroken countryside, not an electricity pylon, road, town or village in sight. I don't ever remember seeing such view.
We headed back to the hotel. I desperately wanted to see what I could of the men's Wimbledon final but we discovered that the French are really not too interested in Tennis and it wasn't showing on any of the channels in the hotel. That's when we discovered we had internet access. Finally I managed to find and Australian commentary and listened online as Andy Murray made history to be the first British male to win in 77 years.
Running for health, happiness and a good laugh whatever your age, size or fitness level
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