French Escape

  This is the walk I should have done yesterday but the bus followed some of the route so I was able to appreciate the beauty of the countryside and view the hills without having to suffer. I waved the others off from Santanilla del Mar and found a number of other people with rucksacks and sore feet waiting for the bus.  Comillas is a sweet little town with a glorious sandy beach. I have to admit, after a brief meander round the town and a glimpse of the Gaudi house other sights the town had to offer, I rested on the beach and paddled in the sea while waiting for the others to arrive. It  was very relaxing and the cold water felt wonderful on my poor feet. We stayed in an apartment right on the beach, above an Italian restaurant (where we ate). It was a little compact and bijou for the five of us. No lock on the (only) bathroom meant we had to rely on this bizarre arrangement with a baby bath to indicate occupancy.  We made the most of the washing machine and had t...

  We set off after breakfast to walk along a lane between fields of maize to rejoin the camino . After crossing the river (on the wrong bridge) we set off up a long gentle hill, stopping halfway up to don rain gear. Meandering through the countryside admiring the scenery and local animals. When we reached the motorway, we were led onto a diversion for works that we couldn’t see. In spite of the diversion we found the planned coffee stop (closed) but fortunately came across another cafe before withdrawal symptoms set in. On the other side of the motorway we followed the railway until we crossed the tracks over a rickety bridge (that seemed to be midway through a makeover) into a rather dismal town that provided lunch not worth describing but adequate. The next hour or so was taken up with walking around three sides of a massive soda ash works until finally finding some greenery again. For the following two or three hours we walked up hill and down dale finally reaching Santillana d...

We headed inland from the rugged coast around Santander - a lively city of fine buildings, open spaces, sandy beaches and wide promenades. After two hours we had done 9.5 k and were still in Santander. In desperate need of coffee we followed signs across the road to a shiny new VW dealership who were offering coffee and rest stop to those walking the camino . We sat  while the receptionist made us coffee which we drank with sweets, apples while several salesmen were selling cars and camper vans. Our only payment was to have our photo taken- so if you should be in a VW showroom on the outskirts of Santander you’ll see the five of us grinning on their wall of ‘fame’ When we left the city the walk took us along the railway line, under the motorway and then through various upmarket housing developments scattered across the hills, the scenery was pleasant but not exactly inspiring.    We reached Santa Cruz de Bezana but lunch seemed elusive until we invaded a small gar...

 It was a beautiful Sunday - Pentecost . A perfect day for a group of friends to meet in Pigna for coffee before driving to Buggio and up the precipitous track to the point where we were to begin our walk between two chapels, high in the Italian Alps . We were in good spirits. As we drove up the steep narrow track to the first chapel a large group of wild boar  including many young, scattered as the car approached, a  deer leapt across our path a short distance further on and as we reached the dappled shade of the mountain path a cuckoo called. It all augured well. But a walk we know became a walk of wrong turnings, retracing footsteps and near disaster That Sunday I thought I would have to cancel a planned trip to walk between Santander and Llanes , a mini pilgrimage along the Camino del Nortes . That Sunday, for a millisecond, I thought that I wouldn’t be around at all. Misjudging the edge of the mountain path, my walking pole found a pile leaves instead of fi...

The launch of Hidden Book 2 in St John's English Library in Menton was a resounding success, thanks to the lovely audience who came in such numbers that it was standing room only. The talk and readings were well received and the comments and questions were positive and pertinent. I sold all the books I had and took orders for more. I was quite overwhelmed by it all (and delighted when people have come up to me since and told me that they are already enjoying reading it.) I am writing this waiting for a breakdown truck to take my car to the garage. The battery is flat and in spite of being on charge all night, still only responds to the turn of the ignition key with a click. It would perhaps seem more logical to bring  a new battery to the car but who am I to question the idiosyncrasies of car mechanics? I am just delighted that the garage answered my call at 8am and arranged a pick up for 10am. In future I suppose I will have to use the car more than just weekly supermarket trip...

 In the excitement of writing about publishing Hidden Book 2 and a lost passport being replaced, I forgot to tell you about Saint Jacqueline . On the 8th February, I walked into St John's Anglican church, Menton and was told by Josie, the welcomer, that it was my saint's day.  I had no idea that there was a Saint Jacqueline. We Anglicans don't have many saints and I certainly hadn't learnt about one with the same name as me. Of course she wasn't mentioned in the service but when I arrived home I googled her, interested to read about her good works and/or grisly death.  https://www.paroisseputeaux.com/2024/02/08/8-fevrier-fete-de-sainte-jacqueline/ From this website, I discovered:  She was born into the Roman nobility in the twelfth century and married Gratian Frangipani, Lord of Marino. Widowed prematurely with two children, Jacqueline became a friend of Francis of Assisi , who nicknamed her " Brother Jacqueline ." She devoted her fortune to helping him...

The day has arrived, Hidden Book 2 is finished, published and available to buy on Amazon or to order through your local book shop. My website is currently being updated and, soon I hope to be able to offer the books through the website too. I hope that you enjoy following Florence on her further adventures.    The Hidden series  is set in a  Midlands town  in England as the 1980’s come to an end.   Florence has left nursing to become the private investigator of her dreams but, after working for a year with Arthur Renishaw and seeing the reality of life as a PI, happily she accepts her position as office manager in Renishaw Private Investigation Services . Florence may not be undertaking surveillance or actively investigating, but by listening to people in her unobtrusive way, she helps: Corinna, a pregnant young girl; Eunice, searching for her grandchild; Mildred, looking for her mother; and Helen, trying to preserve her own life while protecting her al...