A few observations about trains and stations:

Our timetable was as follows:

Thursday: Charleville - Paris - Bordeaux

Saturday:  Bordeaux - Toulouse

Monday:  Toulouse  -  Ax-les-Thermes  -  Toulouse

Tuesday:  Toulouse  -  Avignon

Thursday:   Avignon  -  Paris  -  Charleville

It was interesting to note the large number of fat little sparrows who live in the stations. You'd think they wouldn't stand a chance among all the pigeons but they are expert at obtaining scraps. We watched a chap tossing crumbs into the air for the little birds to fly up and intercept  before the big ones could get near. Then a pigeon tried the same trick and was clumsy by comparison. However, all the birds looked well fed and in good condition apart from a missing toe here and there. I wonder how that happens . . . .?

It was surprising that our tickets weren't checked very often throughout the week. There were the usual announcements about 'composting' your tickets before boarding the train and telling the conductor promptly if you hadn't done so and then no-one bothered to come and check anyway. However, on the odd occasion when the ticket inspector came round he also insisted on looking at our 'Cartes Senior'.

On the whole, French trains are more comfortable, certainly cheaper than in England and usually very efficient,  but at Ax-les Thermes we were taken by surprise while waiting for the train on platform 3 - as indicated on the board - when, at the scheduled departure time, an official came out of the station and was prepared to whistle off the train that had been standing empty at platform 2. A few other travellers who had been waiting on platform 3 got on hastily and we stood up and asked if it was going to Toulouse.

"Oh, are you travelling?" said the guard in mild surprise as he opened the door for us.

It is very ungrateful of me but I have to say the holiday was not an unmitigated success.

The stress far outweighted any relaxation, there was little chance to sample the local cuisine or wine and no hope at all of visiting any interesting attractions.

Bear's mood varied from 'sort of good' to 'bl***dy miserable and badtempered'. In fairness, his legs played him up some of the time and he was suffering from a tummy upset for a couple of days. There's nothing worse than feeling off colour when you're away from home but he wouldn't consider cutting the holiday short.

In a way, he made his problems worse by doing daft things to 'waste' walking. For example, on our first morning in Bordeaux he set off from the hotel in the opposite direction from the town centre with the air of a man on a mission.

We walked past an industrial zone and followed the road for some time before I ventured to ask where we were going. He muttered something about wanting to see the river.

Well, it was obvious we were making for the outskirts along a main road. Between us and the river was a dual carriageway and a high wall. As far as the eye could see there was no bridge or turning to the left. Eventually I spotted a bus-stop on the other side of the road.

"Don't you think it would be a good idea to catch a bus?" I suggested.

"I want to see a bridge", he retorted. "Why are you always so critical of the things I want to do?"

"It's not that. It's just that I would've thought any bridge worth seeing would be near the town centre - not in the opposite direction."

This brought on a flurry of cross words and insults referring to the fact that I don't have a sense of direction so how dare I question his superior knowledge and finishing with the sarcastic remark that if I was so clever then I could lead and he would follow me.

OK, I took him at his word and made for the bus-stop. Fortunately there was a map and I asked him to show me the bridge he had in mind. He pointed to the one near the centre of town.

"Well, we're going the wrong way". (I admit my sense of direction is non-existent but  I can read a map).

"No we're not, we're here somewhere" he blustered, indicating the north west corner of the map.

"We are walking south along Quai de Brienne" I pointed out. "So we need to get a bus back the way we came."

He swore and protested but then waited at the bus-stop in sullen silence. According to the timetable the next one was due at 27 minutes past and it was only a couple of minutes late.

The bus driver was helpful and explained that it would be to our advantage to buy a daypass which would be valid for any bus or tram for 24 hours.

So  for 4.20 euros  each we spent the rest of our time exploring the city by a very comfortable and efficient public transport system.