Disgraceful Rider

Memories have been stirred by the forthcoming trip.  Walking enfamille down a road… French car comes to a halt… oh heck will Rider’s French be required?… out jumped chap, hurried to the rear and opened the boot…walked a few metres to a heap a horse had left in the road… picked up said heap with his bare hands and put it into the boot… back in the car and drove off.  Thoughts of his hands on the steering wheel, perfume inside the car, wifey ‘que’ce que c’est le phew?’… which veggies were to receive the pile… would the boot be cleaned before the shopping went in.   The sight occupied our thoughts for the rest of the hols. Then there was the gendarme standing with speed gun furiously blowing his whistle as Him Indoors whizzed past a lorry … he slowed down after overtaking of course. We worried that we might be arrested right up to the time the boat sailed. It could have been worse, Him Indoors could have rolled the window down the stuck 2 fingers out and shouted ‘Agincourt’ or ‘Waterloo’ but he resisted.  Still, it might be that somewhere in a little Hotel de Ville in some small town there’s a faded poster with Rider’s details on it and a reward offered.  Then there was the time Rider went looking for wild goats on an island near Dinard with an attractive Frenchman but that’s another story