You looking at me?

When the alarm went off at 6.30am this morning I could have sworn that I'd only just finished the washing up from the previous night's client dinner. Why do guests on holiday want breakfast at 8.00am? - they should be lazing about taking the opportunity not to get up at the crack of dawn as they most surely must do in their normal working lives.

Never mind. I am here to serve and breakfasts were duly delivered bang on time as always.

Sadly there were no figs on the trays. I scoured the market last Saturday but not a fig in sight - and yes I could give a fig about it - I adore them. I think the cold snap a week ago has finally done for them.

They aren't the only things that have departed for another season - the evening boules sessions are also over now that the clocks have gone back. It is dark before Bob and Pierre can get away from their work, although, to be honest, I am not sure that they do a great deal of work so I might suggest an afternoon game because one thing that hasn't gone away is the sun, now thankfully restored with heat and a warm wind.

It was well up into the twenties this afternoon and my face is once again tingly from a touch of sunburn after my bike ride. The contrast with a week ago is remarkable - then we had frost on the ground and everyone switching their heating on - now we are back in short sleeves and flinging open the windows - quite bizarre.

Today's cycling took me to new heights, quite literally. I have never cycled up so many hills in one day ever before and my legs are feeling the strain of it and the previous two days - over 80kms so far this week. It doesn't seem to be getting rid of my gut though which is rather depressing.

I chose a new route today that took me up behind the Cité, through Palaja and on to Lac du Cavayere (or Carcassonne Plage as it is also known). It has been quite a while since I was up at the lake, and I drove there the last time about two years ago. There have been a lot of changes and I was quite impressed, which says a lot for a cynical old git like me, with all the facilities available, especially for families and children.

It was also extremely handsome in the sunshine and it's Autumn colours - the lake is set in a bowl on top of a hill surrounded by dense woodland - hence the many hills to ride today. There is a path that winds around the lake which must be at least three kilometres from beginning to end - it was such a shame that Debrah was stuck in London because it would have been a lovely walk together with hardly another soul about.

You can also cycle all round, apart from one set of steps where you have to carry your bike, and apart from the numerous short steep slopes where the path negotiates the woodland around the edge of the lake. I have to admit that I had to dismount twice as the slope and my heavy legs took their toll on my climbing ability.

I hadn't realised that there was a large chateau close to the lake set in the woods just to the north - the upper floors must have a magnificent view but I guess the owners might be slightly annoyed that their perfect view of the wilderness has been compromised by the lake being turned into the French chav playground of Summer Carcassonne.

It was a classic 19th century turreted twiddly grey chateau and was quite majestic set amongst the woodland that surrounded it. I consulted my map and negotiated a couple of woodland tracks, noting the 'propriete prive' signs at every turn, until I found myself outside the front door - i.e enormous iron gates about a kilometre from the house itself.

There was a side road and a sign for a gite which I was about to explore when I noticed the very large doberman that was looking at me - well silently staring and unmoving.

I have come across many a dog on my cycles and the majority bark a great deal and run back and forwards in their excitement and jump up and down a bit but mostly they have wagging tails and are just happy to see you - the bark is worse than the bite so to speak.

I absolutely did not get that impression from this dog - I thought he would quite like to bite me if I came any closer. So I decided to abandon the exploration of Chateau Gaja and beat an initially slow and then furiously fast retreat - funny how fear can get your legs moving - that and the barely audible deep growl coming from his direction.

Unfortunately I also backed myself into a corner as the lane took me downhill but only to the dual carriageway, with no crossing in evidence. I could go down the dual carriageway for a couple of kilometres to the next roundabout before then heading back to Carcassonne or I could turn around and go back uphill and back past gnasher waiting up there for me.

Obviously I took the long way back - tired legs or not.

It's a scandal - letting dogs like that loose on private property, although to give the dog some credit, he seemed to know that as I was on the road I wasn't technically trespassing. I could just imagine him thinking "Go on, step on the grass, I dare you". He's probably a soft sweetie that likes his tummy being tickled.!