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...?

Provence I

We seem to have been blessed with an Indian Summer here in England, so it seems timely to get my holiday photos up before the feeling of sun on bare skin becomes just a memory.

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France, for ten days, September. A house in the hills of Provence. Blue skies, hot days. Breakfasting outdoors. Ripe peaches, buttery brioche, apricot jam. Snails, bleached white on stalks of grass, plant stems, the cyprus trees. A tea dance in the local village, the smell of candy floss on the air, the sound of an accordion. Olives groves and dry-earthed vineyards, grapes black and heavy. Lying in the sun for hours, reading, dozing, sticky with sunscreen. Lunches in the shade, gazpacho from the Moro cookbook, local goat's cheese, fresh baguette. The anticipated pool, leaking and drained. Sweat behind knees, between shoulder blades. The hose pipe, rainbows in the spray, and iced drinks, clinking, providing much relief. A trip to the coast, swimming in the sea, salt crystals on our skin for the rest of the day. Cassis (blackcurrant) sorbet in Cassis, seemed appropriate. Scorpions on whitewashed walls, or woven bathmats, near misses. A chartreuse striped, mustard spotted caterpillar resident on a fennel plant. In the long grass, one field down from the pool, sections of a discarded snakeskin, translucent, papery, pieced together, over five foot long. At night, in the trees above the outdoor table, an unidentified mammal, spotted by more than one of our group. Tiger striped spiders, and a wasps' nest discovered amongst the lavender stalks. I am fascinated by this all, and feel like I am twelve again, an aspiring Gerald Durrell, devouring My Family and Other Animals with a passion. Pétanque between the almond trees at dusk. Pigeons in fountains and sunflowers in buckets.

Another set of photos still to come...

Lille, Braderie

Lille last weekend for the Braderie. Hot sunshine, meals eaten outdoors. A storm on the Saturday night, heavy rain. Geraniums in window boxes, leafy streets, lined with plane trees. A city taken over by market stalls, selling all sorts of junk, old, new. Wandering and wandering and wandering, picking up bargins in some places, sadly walking away from items in others because the cost was just too high, or, in the case of a beautiful forget-me-not blue formica table, because I couldn't have got it home. Stuffed foxes and antique prams. Stoning plums for a clafoutis in a dusky garden one evening. Eating runny cheeses, drinking chilled white wine. Saturday night, before the storm, a sixtieth birthday party, tables and chairs set out on the street, bowl after bowl of moule and frites brought out to guests.

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PinkCatJo asks when I have the time to do dull stuff like washing...the answer is sometimes I don't. This week has been another manic one, a trip to see War Horse (just wonderful), Dr Faustus at The Globe (very imrpessed), the book launch of this very fabulous book, a very very belated (by about six months) birthday dinner out, and last night, Crazy For You at the Open Air Theatre (fantastic). I have been waking early before work to put on speedy washes and catch up with internet banking, and feel pretty sleep deprived!

Still, off in about an hour for a much needed holiday...reading, eating, swimming, soaking up the sun, so will be back in a week hopefully feeling much rested. Hope everyone else is having a lovely September so far!