It's not the barley or the wheat, it's not the oven or the heat - during a whistle stop tour of Northern France and Belgium with a friend I stopped at a patisserie with a typical French name of Paul, in a little town called Tourcoing Roncq. Through a window in the shop I watched the baker take cooked bread out of the oven and then put more dough in to bake. I couldn't resist going next door to photograph him. Sadly I can't speak French and he couldn't speak any English so we didn't get to have much of a chat.
