Starry-eyed in Starry-Night Territory

Sick in Bordeaux, recovering (just like Van Gogh!) in Saint-Rémy, and high in Chamonix. Life is (mostly) good here in France. WRITTEN AND ILLUSTRATED BY PETER MOORE

IS THERE EVER a more wretched feeling that lying sweatily on the tile floor of a strange bathroom in a strange city, and awaiting the next wave of nausea to splash into Lake Toilet?

Mais non!

I was the victim of an under-heated petrie dish of pumpkin soup at an adorable restaurant in Bordeaux’s centre ville, and spent much of the night reliving dinner, in reverse.

It’s the not-so-great pumpkin, Charlie Brown.

The next morning, still recovering, I settled in for a therapeutic sit in the main botanic garden in town.

As my stomach calmed, so did I, to simply take in the scene in front of me.

The town’s bicycle commuters had places to go, and refused even to stay in the frame of my drawing.

Bicyclists in the States dress like extras in a Mad Max movie. In Bordeaux, it’s be-spoke’n fashion all the way.

On another bench in the same park, I spotted this spindly little crabapple, with a few wan fruit dangling at the end of its gangly branches.

Well, I gues…