Autumn gloat

The above picture is basically gratuitous, simply reflecting my success on Sunday in inducing some humans to drive me to the Gorges de Verdon in the mellifluously-named département of the Alpes de Haute-Provence, to which the French have inexplicably (superstitiously?) attributed the number four. Had we walked the other side of the gorge, in département 83 (the Var), I'm not sure I could have fitted enough adverbs into an English sentence.

There is much, it must be said, for autumn scenery, very much lacking in my adopted homeland where nature remains red, yellow and brown for most of the year. As I mentioned in a previous post, the season also matches my colour scheme, and that is important.

Much as I may technically be a river horse, more closely related to whales and cetaceans than to terrestrial even-toed ungulates such as Fidel the Pig (Where is Fidel?!), I spent most of the day in the comfort of an overcoat pocket eating hazelnut chocolate. Yes humans, that was me, though I did enjoy listening to you all argue over who ate the last piece!

It wasn't so much the cold that put me off swimming as the warning signs with elaborate pictographs warning of dire consequences for swimmers of someone suddenly opened the spill gates of the nearby hydroelectric dam. A few more years and there will be no more snowmelt and nice warm rivers to wallow in year round...