Back to Reality

I arrived back from France expecting to feel different, to be different, but it was as if I’ve never been away. 

The drive across France took us to Aix-on -Provence—where we sat in the warm sunshine eating lunch, drinking beer. We watched the market being cleared away to be replaced by a tide of people, marching peacefully in protest against the proposed rise in the retirement age from 62 years to 64. 

Then, the next day, to Macon where everything was closed—it being Sunday. We found a rooftop bar that served drinks and food but had no view— the town was enveloped in the thick fog that had hidden the countryside since Lyon, . 

Snail vol au vents

                               

We took a detour to Moussy, to buy some champagne, as only two bottles remained of the supply we had bought on the way down. I left to signed copy of Rude Awakening for Florence, who sold us the champagne. I hope she enjoys reading my books, as much as we enjoy drinking the champagne. 

 After a brief lunch stop in Beaune (all shops closed because it was Monday), we carried on in fog and it got colder. 

                          

The sun finally broke through the fog, as we explored the area around Beaune, before heading for Châlons-en-Champagne and our final overnight stay.

We enjoyed an amazing meal in  Les Caudiales, in the centre of Châlon-en-Champagne. The restaurant was packed on a Monday night, a testament to the excellent food.

A half empty train carried the car through the tunnel and spat us out onto the M20, into bright sunshine, which, along with the beautiful English countryside, cheered me up as we drove towards Cambridge.  

But the traffic was heavy, the speeding drivers aggressive, in their hurry to get ahead and sadly, the carriageways of the motorways are potholed, the central reservations overgrown with weeds and the views marred by the never ending stream of wayside litter.  England seemed a little neglected.

On the first morning that I went for a walk, in Cambridge, it rained—there had be no rain for a month in Cambridge, I was told by a fellow early morning walker, who had greeted me as if she had seen me the day before.  But later in the day, the sun shone, it was glorious, there was even a hint of warmth.

Book group welcomed me back, as if I’ve never been away. We had a good discussion about Lessons in Chemistry by Bonnie Garmus but I was sadly in a minority of one not having wholeheartedly enjoyed it. As ever the book led to lots of discussion and reminiscing, all of us having our own stories of being women in the workplace.

A trip to Norfolk— Burnham Market to check out the shops and lunch at The Hoste—confirmed my feeling that that everything had stayed the same while I had been away.  Only signs that spring is on the way, showed that time had passed.

I spent one day turning citrus fruit into marmalade and lemon curd. The cupboard is well-stocked now with a taste of sunshine until I can get back to the real thing.

The house sale isn’t going as quickly as I would hope but then it’s perhaps just that I’m very impatient. It is quite ridiculous that a For Sale sign can make me feel happy, but it does.

I have started that task it always accompanies moving house: decluttering.

I can’t start in earnest until the house is sold, I don’t want people coming to view a muddle. Instead I’ve been through the contents of every cupboard and the loft and mentally put things into categories: Keep   Sell   Charity   Rubbish. 

Colin, from Willingham Auctions has been round and made a note of the things that he will take to sell, when the house is sold. 

The process has started

As ever, I have been reading and if you want a book about love and friendship, that you won't want to end, I'd recommend the book I've read this week: Still Life by Sarah Winman.

Life has slowed a little, so I may not write my blog as often but if you would like to be sent a link, when I do write, please contact me on info@jacquelinejames.co.uk and I will add you to the list.