Back to work

 With the Christmas decorations back in their boxes, cards taken down and husband, Stuart, back in England, the apartment felt empty (and very tidy).

It's time to get my head down and start writing again. While I’m waiting for my manuscript to come back from the editor, I have started writing a new book, new characters new genre. I’m not exactly sure where it’s going, it may not work but I’m enjoying trying.

In between I have started to put together the talk that I’ll be giving in St John’s English library later in the month—come along if you can.




















The week wasn't all work, I walked to the  Jardin Botanique Val Rahmeh —this time making sure that it was open before I set out. As I walked up the drive, the beauty and tranquility of the garden brought tears to my eyes. It is small, only one hectare in area but terraced into the mountain, there are delights at every turn. Originally an agricultural estate, it was bought by a British army general, in 1905 and landscaped into a garden.  The final owner was a rich eccentric English woman—a plant enthusiast who added many exotic species. She was forced to sell the property to the state when she got into debt in 1966, and the garden was opened to the public the following year. I can only give thanks for her mismanagement of her funds...

https://www.jardinbotaniquevalrahmehmenton.fr/en/garden-its-collections/history-garden-3893






The hand of Buddha






















I continued my wander around Menton, along the front and then up and down the narrow streets of the old town, calling in at St Michael’s Basilica. 














I was glad that I paid 20 centimes for an information sheet about the church, otherwise I would never have known that St Michael is the patron saint of parachutists as well as soldiers, fencers, archers (in fact all those who bear arms), coopers, hatters, mercers, grocers and wafer makers. Busy chap!  The first stone was laid on May 27th 1619 by Monseigneur Spinoli, but building didn’t start in earnest until 1640—I've known builders like that.









I carried on walking upwards to the Cimetière du Vieux Château. The dead certainly get the best views in Menton. Beautifully maintained and cared for, the graves of French, English and Italian families and individuals lie side by side. A large area is occupied by those who lost their lives fighting for France in the First World War, along with nurses who cared for the injured. 

And, although I didn't see his grave, William Webb Ellis is buried here—a name that will mean something to anyone who plays rugby.








This statue has the most amazing spot to read her book. 


And, talking of books, I borrowed Small Things Like These by  Claire Keegan from the library, this week. It's a beautifully told story and definitely, a one-sitting read.  I shall read it again before I take it back next Wednesday.



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