Across the Dordogne

Striding south out of castillon we hit a trestle bridge across the Dordogne. The wide valley bordering the river was oddly  devoid of the vines so common in this wine growing region. Jeremy pointed out the soil that was revealed in the wake of a tractor working in the fields nearby. It was rich, brown and damp. Not at all like the chalky, dry soil preferred by grapes.
Instead, varieties of cash-crops such as kiwi fruits were growing there.

Passing a hedge we saw strange fruit on the ground. All green and bumpy these odd pods had white milky juice. Jeremy was so suspicious of them he didn't want me to taste even a tiny drop.

Ascending a steep and winding hill we found a lookout point commanding a view of the valley below. Quite spectacular don't you think?

As we continued we found that the locals had novel ideas on neighborhood security employing dangerous domesticated rabbits as protection. We ran so hard from one marauding band of conies that the wheelbarrow had a blowout and Jeremy had to grovel underneath to remove the wheel before I could effect repairs.