Plenty to See and Do ; (and the Golf's Not Bad Either!)

Summary

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THERE is something about the sound of sparrows chirping the arrival of a new day that I will always associate with being in France.

I am sure there are just as many of the little brown birds back home, with tiny voices just as shrill and cheerful, but you never seem to hear them.

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Extract

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Plenty to See and Do ; (and the Golf's Not Bad Either!)

If I had been waking up from a good night's sleep in any given small English town I doubt their chirpy chorus would have registered above the noise of the traffic. But this is France, a country still stretching its arms and stroking its stubble for a moment before it gets going.

The small town of Plancoet, south east of St Malo in northern Brittany, clearly does not do Wednesdays. There are no cars, lorries, none even of those little three-wheeled moped-cum-mini- vans, so popular with our French cousins, which appear to be made out of corrugated cardboard.

The stillness is quite disorienting. So much so that when a lorry pulls up out...

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