 Riding along the levee. My dad was taking these pictures, and he prefers boats to birds. He missed some lovely beflocked sandbars.
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 Probably in Chapelle-aux-Noix.
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 At lunch, we think in Brehemont. I was looking sulky because my mother and I had just had a large fight.
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 The river as employed alongside Brehemont.
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 And again. My dad not-so-secretly wishes he had a canal boat.
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 Still in Brehemont. Post-lunch, less quarrelsome.
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 A fisherman in Brehemont, who was doing amazingly well at getting fish to bite at his unbaited line.
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En route to Chinon | Back to the Index