The most important thing about this park is that its name is NOT Finistere – just because that’s what I always call it doesn’t make it right, I am told. I have this unfortunate habit of misreading and misunderstanding things, always in ways which make them much more interesting than the original meaning. I like to think this is not proof of my imbecility, but an attempt by my subconscious to make life more exciting. People should be grateful I don’t charge them for all this free entertainment I provide, but they seem to prefer the mundane truth to my inspired nonsense. So instead of mulling over theories that link Cape Finistere
The park is right in the centre of town, across the street from my hotel (actually most things are just across the street from my hotel, that’s how it is in a small town). It is intended mainly for children, but anyone who comes to La Bourboule is a child at heart, and the park is full of people who are dangerously close to the age when we all turn into children again (Alzheimer’s and stuff, you get my drift). I have not taken photos of the little train etc, because that is boring and anyway if you like that sort of thing just have a google. Instead I focused on the things that caught my eye.
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This Wood-Spirit, three feet high and hand carved
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One of my favourite views of
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The amazing Goat-Tree!
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My concession to the conservative image loving crowd – view of massive children’s slide-tower
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Tomorrow is my last day, so today I have been buying thank-you presents for my minders in the Grand Therme and the charming ladies who run the hotel. I am not sure whether this is a normal French thing to do, but so far no one has objected, on the contrary I have been kissed several times, which is probably a good sign.
