Despite his balance problems Mr McGregor really wanted to return to his traditional snowy (or not) birthday walking. Our most recent and nearest favourite station de ski can sometimes necessitate putting on snow chains (cripes) and has pretty challenging terrain but I remembered that we once did a day trip to Laguiole ski station and walked a raquettes piste there. Not impressed as it was fairly flat and not very picturesque we didn’t return. Now it seemed a better option.

I found an auberge, part of the Logis de France chain, in Laguiole village, crossed my fingers it would be ok and booked it. The village’s claim to fame is the production of the charismatic knives of the same name.

We drove up last Sunday through glorious scenery under blue skies which, admittedly, didn’t bode well for snowy slopes. But we’re used to that, the Jura has been the only place that regularly gave us plenty of the white stuff; deep and crisp and even!

The GPS did its usual goat track deviation, taking us up the Truyere gorge from Entraygues and then onto narrow winding lanes which involved a lot of gear changing and dark mutterings as I steered us through the many bends. Coming out on a junction with a bigger road I saw that Entraygues was only a handful of kilometres on our right. The next time the gps argued with the signpost, I followed the sign!

The lady on the auberge desk gave us a warm welcome and a choice of three rooms, something that hasn’t happened to us for ages. We chose the sunniest one overlooking the street. Then it was back downstairs to the bar for a welcome drink and the France v Italy Six Nations match on the TV.

That evening we ate dinner in the auberge restaurant mainly served by the same cheerful woman who had checked us in. There seemed to be a large staff all working hard to create a good atmosphere which we really appreciated. I opted for aligot but with salad rather than the traditional sausage while himself had his favourite….’disgusting, Dada’ as our grandson would say!

Monday morning was dry and the sun was trying to break through which was better than the forecast of heavy cloud so, after a buffet breakfast served in the bar still with the roaring log fire but no rugby, we set off for the ski station, le Bouyssou.

On the way there we saw a little bit of lying snow but not a lot. However, the ski station was filling up while we changed into our walking boots. A lot of families were enjoying the luge piste judging by the shrieks coming from that direction The children’s learner slope was busy too, the more proficient ones using the two downhill pistes that still had a snowy surface, albeit icy.

Armed with our walking sticks we headed off to the start of the sentier botanique…

There are several marked paths for summer walking as well. We tried to scan the QR code for details with not much success. Our particular walk, ‘sentier pieton’ was indicated by blue balises with a sign to be careful of the ski de fond users. Not much chance of being mown down by one as the piste was green, or rather brown, the colour of the carpet of beech leaves.

It was reasonably easy walking despite the climb up to the point de vue where we discovered the only patches of snow!

A hour later we were back on the terrace of the cafe enjoying coffees while the families queued for sausage and aligot after all that sliding.

It was very satisfying that himself had managed to climb and descend without tumbling or getting too exhausted and on his birthday. Tradition satisfied!

Back at the auberge we shared a ‘mixte’ lunch platter of local charcuterie and cheeses in the busy bar. This place is clearly very popular and deservedly so.

A short sieste for the birthday boy, comme d’hab, while I plotted the afternoon activity, a circular drive around the area taking in two ski stations I didn’t know existed.

The purple lines on our map gave a clue as to why I had missed them while googling. The Aubrac plateau spreads over three departments, Aveyron in the west, Lozere to the east and a tongue of the Cantal pushing in from the north. I had only looked at ski stations in the Aveyron!

Our first stop was the village of Aubrac, the highest on the whole plateau at 1303m, looking very grey under a steel coloured sky. A village founded by ‘chevaliers’ to protect pilgrims on the Compostela way from ‘brigands’ I read.

The Maison du Aubrac was closed for the winter so I was pleased to find an information board which told me there are only ten inhabitants in Aubrac now and that many agricultural workers who migrated to Paris from the area in the 19th century opened up cafes which are still operating today.

Back to the car and on to Nasbinals where the ski station was very obviously closed judging by the hazard tape stopping anyone from entering. So onwards to St Urcize where the ski station was high up on the plateau. We didn’t stop. Too windy!

Dropping down the scenery seemed gentler and I stopped to photograph a bridge across a river we had been following, the Bes.

Turning back onto the main road for Laguiole the sky lightened in the west and we crossed our fingers it wouldn’t just be the night that stayed dry…

But it wasn’t to be as we woke up to pouring rain. ‘Knife factory, it is!’ we agreed. After breakfast I wanted to find the tourist office for information about a Plus Beau village our neighbours had told me about and a collection of walks I had seen on their website. We splashed our way down the street, luckily it wasn’t far.

I found the collection of local walks but the plus beau village lay outside Aveyron so they had no information. I love the tourist offices in France but their partisan attitude to places just beyond the departmental border always seems nonsensical. We live on the edge of the Lot but finding out what’s happening just across in the Correze is practically impossible despite the creation of the vallee de la Dordogne website!

The factory we chose to visit was the forge de Laguiole, an impressive building designed by Philip Starck. In fact, it was only reflecting on it just now that I realised the huge wing that runs up through the entrance and ends metres above the roof must be representative of a knife.. !

The foyer is full of impeccable glass cabinets displaying highly polished and exquisite cutlery at eye watering prices, quite a contrast to the factory beyond which you are invited to explore. The building is long and sleek on the outside but inside it is full of machines thumping and whining. There are many photos and explanations of the processes surrounding you in both French and English so we spent a long time reading but also talked briefly to a friendly chap in the first workshop as I tried to translate the only all French label.

At the far end of the building and the end of the tour we could look into the final workshop where the knives were assembled by individual cutlers. On the right hand side we could see a long row of seated figures, each bent over their work. We had read one panel that said there was no assembly line in this factory but Mr McGregor said he’d find it ultimately very boring work. I agreed. We also agreed that, lovely as the knives were, the prices didn’t warrant a purchase, although I was briefly tempted by some knife rests decorated with a bee.

Outside it was still damp and grey. We decided to drive down to Espalion and look for lunch there. The Plus Beau village of St Come d’Olt that my neighbours told me we should visit was just along the Lot river.

I found a parking space just before the bridge and we headed for what appeared to be the centre ville. The tourist office was shut all day so no chance of finally finding the information I wanted. But we did find lunch, even if the cafe/bar looked very shut from the pavement.

It was crowded inside and people kept arriving all through our meal; croque monsieur and a plate of the best chips we’ve eaten in a long while. Himself had a Guinness as he discovers the perks of not being only the driver anymore!

A wander back to the car stopping to gaze at the Vieux Pont and the river from both sides of the bridge. A cormorant flapped over just as I lined up my first photo. We’d seen several kites and buzzards on the drive here and were to slow down for a resplendent pheasant high stepping across our path on the way home to Laguiole.

At St Come d’Olt it was almost impossible to find a parking space. Given it was still raining on and off and so not conducive to wandering, I parked on the side of the street and, leaving himself to mind the car, I ran into the centre historic to take a photo of the celebrated twisted spire of the church.

The hill out of the valley after Espalion is very long and steep but the views are stunning from the top, probably much better when everything is green!

Before dinner we went in search of a ‘butlers friend’/ sommelier knife for Lou as I realised I hadn’t bought him a birthday present! Laguiole has some very upmarket boutiques and not just its cutlery shops. I had bought socks in the morning which were pretty but the price I usually pay for three pairs! In one window I spotted some folding scissors. I had had a pair in my handbag for years but on entering the Uffizi in Florence some years ago I was told to throw them in the bin by security. They only came out of a Christmas cracker but were endlessly useful and this opportunity to replace them was not to be missed. An early birthday present for me.

This particular shop was quaint and nothing like its neighbours. A prominent sign said all the knives and scissors were produced in Thiers, a cutlery town in the Auvergne. A town that vies with Laguiole as the true originator of the knife!

It was la Maison du Laguiole which had a good range of sommelier knives. Lou chose one with a cep du vigne ‘manche’. The wood comes from the stem and root of a vigne which seemed apt for the knife’s purpose. The prices were within our grasp and it was something that would be used.

Interestingly, the day after we got home, there was an article in la Depeche du Midi, our local paper, about the ongoing argument about the true ownership of the Laguiole label, Laguiole or Thiers. The factory we visited and the shop we bought from both appeared as two of the main Laguiole protagonists!

A last auberge dinner where we tried to choose lighter options having been almost defeated by the previous evening’s starter of onion soup with a melted cheese crust. We chatted with a couple of fellow guests who came from Poitiers, who told us the road between it and Limoges has been subject to proposed changes for as long as they have lived there, 45 years. It’s a road we love to hate!

Of course, we woke up to snow on the day we were leaving. But not enough to make us decide to stay.

Not wanting to be bamboozled by the gps I decided as driver/navigator we would go home via Espalion and Estaing to reach Entraygues where it would be good to stop for coffee.. so we did.

It was a good plan. The road to Espalion is straight and fast and although it wiggles, the road along the Lot river from there to Estaing and then Entraygues was practically empty at this time of year.

At Entraygues we found a bar on a pretty ‘place’ filled with elderly clients chattering over their coffees with just enough space for us to sit. Probably saves on the heating at home? To return to the car we walked the signposted ‘visite de vieille ville’ with lots of little alleyways and arches. No wonder our friends love camping here in the summer.

Then home via Aurillac from where we could see the snow on Puy Mary glistening in the sun.

For lunch I enjoyed some of the l’Ecir cheese sold by the auberge, one we had not seen or tried before, a souvenir of a lovely birthday break.