I honestly can't remember the name of the village I stayed in. Close to Clemont Ferrand obviously, but a check of the map just left me more confused than ever - I assume we were to the South of the Puy de Dome because of the village layout, but who knows. It was steep streeted and stone - like the Cotswalds in my memory. And permanently shrouded in mist (althou I was homesick & missing Autumn at home so don't rely on that).
I recently found a packet of photos from the time - if I can sweet-talk the boss into letting me at the colour scanner I'll post some pictures of a typically French village in 1997. It was a disposable camera (you don't trust 15yo with the family camera!) and point-and-shoot was an accurate description of my style.
My one day climbing the (to me) magical volcano I forget to take my camera... I know. I was there a month and my primary memory is the boy I snogged at my best friend's 16th before I left. Youth is wasted on the young.
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