[Well, you can’t seriously expect me to resist a name like that, can you?]
We’d had some of the wet stuff overnight but the morning was dry though still cloudy; clearly not a day to go up to the high Vercors plateau. Instead, we opted for Die market followed by a relaxing lunch chez Billy. Die market was fun and tempted us into buying some olives for later and a couple of picodon goat’s cheeses produced in a local valley just up the road from us. There’s clearly something about Die that attracts what could best be described as Bohemian types. The streets were full of interestingly garbed people. We’ve seen people in the fields harvesting but those folks are grimy from a hard day’s toil; the Bohemians are something different.
The valley had brightened by afternoon so we set off on a Carol tour south of our valley through Pontaix, just a mile down the road from our camp site, and on to St-Nazaire-le-Désert. St-Nazaire-le-Désert appeared to be asleep apart, that is, from a dipper which flew around the shallow river frenetically avoiding all my attempts to photograph it. It succeeded admirably. There was a lady on a bench crocheting but I rejected her as a photographic subject. (Sorry, ma’am!) I contented myself snapping some much more stationary and considerably more colourful fire bugs. (There’s two distinct pattern variations on the fire bugs and I don’t know if it’s a sex difference or an age difference.)
Since the snows have yet to arrive, we returned over the col de Penne (1040m/~3200ft) calling in at the restored village of Penne-le-Sec just for good measure which was utterly comatose, there not being a single other person in sight. One of the few signs of life was a number of colourful diurnal moths which I now know rejoice in the name Zygaena fausta gorging themselves on a buddleia in the restored village. They are related to the burnets, according to my field guide.
Back to Billy for some barbecued lamb leg steaks and home made ratatouille with, maybe, some sautéed potatoes on the side.