Reader, be warned: there’s going to be one or two snaps forthcoming of the 13th century castle that gives this town its name. Following yesterday’s nonsense with ‘the finger’, I thought it better to stay close to home. Largely this is because a) it takes forever to do the bathing, soaking, creaming and dressing of said digit which means a late start, and b) because I have to return at regular intervals to swig back more antibiotic. Therefore, I thought I’d take a stroll up to the castle in the next town as, having only been coming here for 14 years, I’d never been before. (It’s on a hill!)

Further, as yesterday’s attempt at a picnic with a ham and cheese baguette was reasonably successful, I thought I’d repeat this culinary exercise. After all, today is Vendredi which means Plat du Jour everywhere is Aioli which is surely the worse meal the French ever invented. In Chateaurenard, there weren’t too many bakers’ open but I found one and politely asked for a sandwich to be made. ‘What would you like in your sandwich’, asked Madame? Ham and cheese please. ‘Certainment’. Off she went only to return with the goods saying ‘no cheese’. No explanation, just no cheese. This must be the only joint in France with no cheese. I felt cheated and begrudgingly paid for the ham baguette.

On the way up the hill, I passed by Le Four Banal which means the banal oven. Hmm. That must be where they make the ham and cheese baguettes with no cheese.

So, I could put my version of events but what’s the point when someone has bothered to write an explanation in English and tape it to the window. By the way, I hate people who start a sentence with ‘so’. This thing with the bread is historically interesting: in French restaurants, a carafe of water and a basket of bread arrives on the table regardless of whatever else is ordered and someone once told me that it’s actually due to an old law which states such sustenance must be provided for the poor. Just as well no-one mentioned cheese.

I arrive at St Denis’ church. I’m sorry, but it’s not that wonderful. Admittedly, it’s open, but there are no lights so it’s almost impossible to see anything.

I found this lady sitting in the darkness. I think she’s just heard there’s no cheese available in town.

And so begins the final ascent to the castle. I have lots of photos like this but I feel exhausted just looking at them.

One of the saving graces (of which there are few), is that everywhere one looks there are banks and banks of wild Rosemary which is just coming into full bloom.

And then there are the views which, the higher I climb, are more and more spectacular. Whoever thought Chateaurenard could look so charming?

And there’s the castle on the hill. Oh wait, is that Ed Sheeran I can hear?

It’s a bit windy up here and I feel a little exposed but look how far I can see.

Just popping this one in to show how close I was when I stopped for lunch.

This is the view from the seat where I ate my ham and cheese (minus the cheese) baguette. That’s the Ventoux over there in the distant haze. I’m up here all on my lonesome. Is anyone joining me for midi?

Yes, look here’s Mrs Blackbird who’s come along for a berry or two.

And over there’s a collared dove having a little nap in the midday sunshine.

Reader, although I never feel lonely, sometimes when taking a walk I feel alone. And just when I thought, not for the first time, that no-one knows where I am (and do they care?), I bumped into this ancient being struggling up the incline. ‘Bonjour Madame, bon promenade’, she says in passing, and I give myself a good slap.

And as if to say ‘look what’s up here, a wonderful red squirrel stops to survey the scene immediately in front of me.

Then, unexpectedly, the Virgin Mary is here. I’ve done my best with the photo but there was a sheer drop in front of her and handrails were as much in evidence as the cheese in my baguette.

I begin my descent and find this sign. I don’t, for a moment, suspect the existence of biodiversity up here but even I am not optimistic about spotting any puffins.

However, in a change from my ‘look up’ philosophy, I look down and spot this caterpillar. I don’t think I’ll be going any closer – I’ve got enough skin problems already thank you.

Back down the hill, I find the memorial to the grey penitents. Not sure I like that image: looks a bit like the KKK with a droopy mask. But what a wonderful walk.