Brive in English

Sorry I forgot: I might have recruited a Dutch reader with no German neither French :)

Hello,
I started in Poitiers by catching the train to Limoges, and there I arrived at eight in the morning. After having spent a considerable amount of time in front of a city map in order not to lose my way there I set out and everything went fine, I developed a very good mood. Just as I had climbed up a small hill crowned with approx. three houses, I had a sip from my water bottel and discovered that it had developed to be rather bottle than water. Oh no, sudden draught!
A voice reached my ear and asked me wether I wanted some water and gratefully I said yes!
OK, said voice, belonging to a friendly-looking not quite yet elderly woman, asked me would I like some food? Ye's, why not, and she asked.
Good, she'll just prepare something for me, I wait outside and strecht my weary legs. All that with some problems of articulation, but I thought... OK, ça va.
Well, nothing happened and I got slightly itchy to be en route again, so I asked. We'll have to fetch my husband, she said and I said OK, let's do it.
In the car, where it was stifling, I suddenly git acquainted with the reason of her speech slights; said reason wafted over to me while she spoke. In other words, she was tipsy, and under closer scrutiny she looked like an alcoholic.
Oh dear, what had I got myself into, she gets beaten by her husband whom we are fetching and can't stand it without alcohol?
Oh oh, I wanted to go but too late, we were under way.
Well, hubbub when finding her husband, they talked in tones I would never forgive MY husband for should I ever have one.
OK, cutting a long story short: Everything was miraculously fine once dinner was served, there were sausages and salad and fries.
After a quick coffee and a promise to write them a postcard husband fell asleep and I was off, water supplies replenished and belly full.
I managed to reach Brive after all, with maybe 100m of pushing my bike up the worst hills.