I really want to drop more photos in here so as such will have to put some words with them. We decided not to go down the garden path for breakfast instead we ate a banana and had a cup of tea. Saving ourselves for lunch.
Little interlude here. I was never really a breakfast eater, more a take it or leave it but now I am in the age whereby I have to eat at a similar time each day in order to take my medication with food. I choose to take mine at breakfast. Yep I even have one of those little pill box things in case i go out for breakfast and have to take them with me. I hate those little things. Yet here I am. I used to tell my dad that it was lucky he wasn’t a girl on the pill when he said “oops i forgot to take my pills”. I thought how hard is it when you do it every single day. Yet here I am. When they say put your medications in your carry on when travelling I used to pack a Panadol. Now between the two of us I nearly need a check list. My toilet bag now takes up half my suitcase filled with meds and vitamins and just in case items. I always extol the virtues of packing light, in fact I readily hand out advice on the subject. I say things like “you pack for 5 days and that’s it”, “you dont need large shampoos and conditioners”, “mix and match”., “pack a merino or cashmere and layer, and the real biggie “ do not under any circumstances pack, just in case”. Yet if I now pack my 40 year old self toilet bag which holds deodorant, moisturiser, sunscreen, shavers and toothbrushes and then another extra, extra large toilet bag packed with everything just in case. Just in case antibiotics, just in case stomach flu pills, just in case asthma attack inhalers, just in case eczema cream, just in case gout pills (that’s WH not me), just in case heartburn tablets, Just in case sleeping pills, just in case sore back meds, and i could actually now go etc etc etc but you get the picture. So yes spare the clothes and shoes and pack light and then take an extra bag to fit all your just in case all sorts of medical events, as well as the must have one in the cary on..
So back to breakfast. My point is that it is no longer possible to simply ignore so my trick is to buy bananas as they need no preparation and you can take your meds without having to worry about what’s for breakfast. Hence the banana and a cup of tea.
Back to the story. We wander down the garden path to lunch and eat under the red umbrellas looking down the valley. We ordered the Mediterranean delights and had chickpea frites with tartare sauce (not a fan). Sardine toast stuff with onions, which surprisingly I liked, especially covering up the sardine with tapenade. More zucchini flowers with tempura batter, some yummy dips and focaccia and a creamy risotto. Alas there was no room left for dessert so with a cunning plan we called at the store on the way home and bought a slice of apple tart, an apricot and custard flan with a punnet of strawberries. Dessert for dinner.
The village was on high alert as the French presidents wife was visiting with all the other presidents and prime minister wives. (I don’t know where the husbands of presidents or prime ministers were as no-one mentioned them.). We didn’t happen to bump into them on our wandering or our lunch but perhaps they ate at the one we had tried to book the day before without success. We had entered and asked for a table for two, “non, non”, “for dinner perhaps” I replied, “non, non, non” he says. “Tomorrow?” I ask. “Madame we are booked for tomorrow, for next week, and many weeks” he states. “Merci Monsieur” . I think that is where the presidents wife will be with all the other wives. They would have known to book months in advance.
We are to wander a different path back to our cottage as I would like to go to the famous sculpture museum, Fondation Maeght, which is on the way with a slight detour. Upon arrival we are met with a sea of gendarmes. On bikes, on foot, in big black cars and little electric ones. The road access is closed and we are stopped by gendarme with large guns and asked for ID. Luckily I have a picture of our passports in my phone (another must travelling tip) and he plugs them in his tablet and we are ushered through. We are stopped again to inspect our suspicious apple pie and apricot tart carrying bag. But luckily dinner remains in tact and we proceed. It’s interesting space and when it’s too hot you can go inside and look some more in the air conditioning and then head back out.
We hang about on the roof top terrace trying to work out which people are secret service, undercover. They sort of loiter about with the man bags or big coats which are far to hot for the weather, or they have bag packs slung loosely. We decide that the man bags and coats are to hide their guns. We watch as the beautiful presidents wife and assistants hand out ginormous Longchamp goody bags to the others and they sip cold drinks below us on the terrace. I really would like a goody bag and a yummy fancy cold lemonade with mint in, but alas I am not dressed in attire to impersonate a presidents/prime ministers wife.
Brigette Macron
I was so fascinated by the fact that everyone we spoke too spoke of the presidents wife. They crowded to take photos of her departing the village. She caused quite an excitement yet no one called her by name. “The presidents wife is here”. So whilst also wondering what the husbands of prime ministers and presidents were doing and if they did come to the museum and I mistook them for secret service, did they get a Longchamp bag? I also wondered who the presidents wife actually was, so I googled it. She is Brigitte Macron and she is a former teacher. She is 72 years old and 25 years her husbands senior and she used to be the prime ministers teacher. According to google that is. To me, Mrs Brigette Macron seems very interesting.