Mick has been missing his “two and twenty” on Friday evenings. That is, two beers  and $20 in the pokies. So, I volunteered to drive us down the hill to dine at the local bar and restaurant. 

At 7pm, the streets weren’t very busy. By the way, that road is a major road, typical of the villages around here – three pedestrian stripes. That could be a new method of determining the width of streets I’ve just invented. Admittedly, this particular section involves taking turns to get through. If there are no traffic lights, you flash your lights to invite a car through. 

As we approached the door, we were met by a local who insisted on shaking Mick’s hand and asking him if he was Spanish. I guess it was Mick’s dark colouring and the un-French tie of his (my) scarf. 

Apparently 600 people live in Caudiès and of the four English-speaking couples we have met, none has ever been to the restaurant. This coat of arms is painted on the wall of the restaurant. 

TripAdvisor reports were small in number but all extremely positive about the food available. 

We were the only ones there for dinner at this time, which is possibly too early for the French, but the owner Marius made us feel  very welcome. 

I chose the velouté and Mick the duck with Roquefort dressing. We selected a bottle of local wine named after the little church we first walked to down the gorge to see when we first arrived to house sit. 

The food was very good. 

Meanwhile, several more locals arrived, had some beers, all served by Marius who was the only one working in the bar. He would disappear into the kitchen from time to time, we thought to check on the chef, but as we were leaving we discovered he too was the cook. 

Impressive!

We departed about 8.30pm and we noticed the operating times on the door –  Marius would be there until midnight. 😴

Although we won’t have our reliable little hire car, we are thinking of dining here on Christmas Eve, if he is opened. 🎄