Provence II

It was a family holiday. My parents, M and I went out first, opening the shutters and ousting the scorpions. My sister arrived a few days later, sleep deprived from volunteering at Bestival, full of tales to tell. Family friends joined for a few days in the middle, and M and my Dad left earlier than the rest of us. So, changing numbers and changing dynamics, and we never truly mastered the hire-car sat nav, but it was lovely to have a much needed week away from work and London, one last bit of sun (or so I thought, until the Indian summer kicked in) before the onset of autumn.

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A few visits to a lake in an old quarry, clean and cold, and wonderful to swim in, imagining just how deep the water must be beneath our kicking feet. Lines of plane trees and the light-dark-light-dark flicker of light as we drove between them. The constant creaking of cicadas. The postcard-perfect market in Aix-en-Provence, artichokes, plaits of garlic, glossy aubergines. Haphazard bunches of zinnias, sunflowers, Michaelmas daisies. Stocking up on Sephora products in their chic black and white packaging. Green olives and yellow quinces, hanging from the trees in the garden under a blue sky. On the one day it rained, Almodovar films and our childhood French favourite, Banania hot chocolate.

The scent of lavender, ever present.

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Anyone got any favourite quince recipes? I brought a few home with me and am uncertain what to do with them - or rather, which of the quince recipes in Nigel Slater's Tender Vol. II to try...?