back east.

Yet more mosquitoes to battle. I bashed most with a pillow but one remained elusive and persistent - I let it succeed where the others failed and now count the bites while enjoying a tartine and coffee at a Boulangerie Capucine along from the old town, across the pont and opposite Halles aux Grains.

Now I set off back to the UK  back towards Beauvais fit fo, the flight tomorrow as a breeze whips up the fallen linden blossoms. The confiture was Tiptree wild blueberry - in France! Because it's very very good jam man? Mosquitoes must love alcoholic blood types?

Because of my wanton stupidity, on the spur of a tired afternoon when I could walk no further, I missed the chance to visit the tapestry. It's not going anywhere and I really don't like paying an entrance fee to view what should be for all to see regardless of means, surely? It's a thousand years old and is a internationally important document... It's existence is completely accidental... It should be free to anyone to see.

Hop off the 7:44am from Bayeux and onto the 8:18am to Rouen, Rive Droit, again. €50 on the day all the way to Amiens back in Picardie.

But I still haven't found what I am looking for. All this seeking seeking seeking to live in hope of something which I know isn't outside me. It's an inner state which will change my perception and change the whole of existence. Yet I go off on a whim to chase another glimpse of what once opened up before it slammed shut on me. It's like the memory I have of the few days I spent blissful in The Plum Village. Or the two weeks in a working retreat in Monchique. Or the few moments I sat and saw the wildflowers dotted in the park land half a day out from Beauvais last July in the monastery I passed or the early morning mist leaving Gargilesse in September. But these moments, which is presence itself, are illusive and I don't know how to embrace them 100%.