Sunday, December 11, 2011

A Touch of the Bolazecs

Bolazec is not an unfortunate condition affecting sensitive little areas of the underpant region. Now we've got that straight, I'll go into what it actually is.
Bolazec is an attractive (and very quiet) village, the centre of its own commune, on the edge of the Monts d'Arees. 

It was the starting point for a rain-dodging walk in some wonderful countryside for Mrs The Millbrooker and me. We amended a mapped out circuit, cutting it short to allow for the short amount of daylight available at this time of year and the threat of stair rods hurtling down from the heavens.

But off we jolly well set, intrepid to the last and determined to enjoy the autumnal colours that Brittany was displaying so well.
As is the way of these things, the route soon left the lanes and headed down a muddy track and we eventually reached a stream with what passes for a bridge in these parts. The circuit is actually called "Les 5 Ponts" (The 5 Bridges) and this was one of them.

Yep - it's a pair of RSJs plonked over the water. Simple and effective. I thought it made crossing them look a bit like skiing but Mrs The Millbrooker said I just looked like I might be having a poo. I'm not convinced that I get the respect I deserve from my wife, you know.
Further on, Mrs The MIllbrooker spotted an old tree stump covered in wonderfully coloured fungus. I have no idea what fungus this is, but it's certainly attractive in the wild.
For a brief moment the sun shone brightly as we traipsed along a farm track and we were given some excellent autumn colours to point the cameras at.

As the route took us back in toward Bolazec, we glanced westwards to see if the sunshine would last, but threatening black stuff was racing toward us apace and we quickened our step to try and avoid a drenching.

Not before more autumnal trees were marvellously outlined in bright sunlight against the storm clouds that were about to empty their load upon us.
I reckon we deserved our supper that evening in front of the log burner. Oh yes - Camembert so ripe it was trying to escape . . . . mmmmmmmmm.

No comments: