Doing it Hard in the Provencal Heat…
I confess my feet are little bit burnt from sitting on my spreading backside on a sun lounge each afternoon reading and napping and being too lazy to move the umbrella as the sun goes over the yard-arm. I have a nice little drinky-poo delivered to my poolside table by Ann-Charlottte each late afternoon before heaving myself up and retiring to ma chambre to shower and dress for dinner.
This is a bastard of a job. I would not wish it on anyone.
And to show you just how frustrating it can be: I only just this aftenoon found the bloody bar fridge in our room. After 6 nights here! And I leave tomorrow!! It has been there all week and I have been drinking warm Fanta and Beer while it was disguised as a chest of drawers! I mean honestly! How thoughtless is that?!
I leave it to you to imagine the frustration I must feel…..
I wonder how many other people muttered under their breath about not having a bar fridge in their room and there it was the whole time leaving a large useless carbon footprint for no one.
We spent the day clambering over Roman ruins today at the Pont du Gard
and then Orange Amphitheatre both built years B.C. by the Romans who wanted fresh water in Nimes (hence the Pont) and to watch gore and death (the amphitheatre)
That is actually why Provence is named thus – it was a Province of Rome, populated largely as a vast retirement home for retired legionnaires who wanted all the trappings of Rome when they were superannuated out from killing recalcitrant inhabitants.
By 4 pm we all declared the sun was too intense and t’was back to the pool we went.
Off to Avignon tomorrow for the madcap annual Avignon Festival and then we take the TGV train back to Paris.
I have a week in Paris starting tomorrow.
I have washed all my 18 year old son Daniel’s Smalls and they’re hanging out on the balcony flapping in the sun and the breeze. I have even packed his suitcase but only because I wanted space in which to cram my stuff.
I confess also to having spent a wee bit on clothes this trip. Well – it’s the SALES you see. I can not resist them. When something is 50% I owe to myself to not let it pass.
I bought a sack-dress from Zara in Barcelona for 19 euros……Dan is as bad as I am – every market we go to he expects to clothe-up too. I hadn’t banked on that. Literally. Gen Y are such Clothes-Horses!!
Anyway – that’s all for now. Off to gorge dinner and wine at a lovely little riverside restaurant where the cliffs look so close you feel you can almost touch them. Then a stroll in the evening warmth back to our hotel for a game of 500 and a cheeky nightcap outside by candle-light listening to the stream chatter past under our feet……sometimes I dangle my feet in the stream TO COOL MY FEET OFF you see because it is so hot…… Haha!
I shall regale you with tales from Paris when I arrive. Don’t try to unsubscribe from this newsletter. I shall ignore your pleas…..