The week in Cotignac is over. Whizz. Bang. Done. “What did we do?”, you may ask, and I shall reply ummm let me think. What day is it today? It was that sort of week. The one where you can’t remember what day it is and you really do not care. It’s that sort of week where you know that you really are on holiday. With the birthday over there was really only days to stumble around.
The cottage with its pool provided a welcome refuge to the heat and we became in the habit of wandering into the village to get a flat white, and sitting and drinking it in the square whilst listening and watching the world move by. We would buy a baguette, perhaps some Jambon, a tomato or two, and then hike back up the hill whereby we would be so hot we would have to have a swim then laze away the afternoon.
We could mix it up a bit by wandering to get a flat white, hiking backup swimming and then going back down for midi du jour where we could eat salad, or risotto, desert and a glass of Rose for $20 and then we would hike back up and swim in the pool.
We did venture further afield and did a trip to Monsteuirs St Marie. We had been there perhaps 15 years ago and I remember it being so beautiful so it was time to head back. We left early, and of course stopped to get our flat white. The lovely barista behind the counter welcomes us each time and before we speak she days “Deux flat whites oui?”, “Merci s’il vous plait”, I reply. We speak back and forth in little broken sentences about where we live, about the weather, about the coffee. Then that’s about it until it’s time to say “Au revoir, Bonne journee”.
We wind our way up to Mounsteirs and it’s still very pretty. We wander through the village which done not have the same sculptures and art that was here the last time and I decide it must have been and exhibition display previously. I think i am going to look up my photos then I remember it was so long ago it wasn’t yet digital.
We decide to walk to the chapel way up behind the village and are grateful for the morning shade. I am hoping that my legs are going to hold all this muscle memory for the rest of our trip as the hill climbing certainly has been part of our daily rituals. The view from the top is worth the climb as we look right across to the lake in the distance.
We leave the village and decide to loop back home a different way which works out well as we pass through the purple fields.
After our big venture out we spend the next day back on our walk, coffee, swim, repeat process so we decide we should venture out again and head to winery in the countryside. It’s one of those French roads whereby when a car comes you sort of have to be a Mexican standoff and wait to see who will reverse first. It’s all very amicable and I am a model passenger, I only make sharp breathe in sucky noises on sharp bends and steep gulleys. The lunch is really yum especially my entree which is burrata with little fried salami bits and chopped up zucchini, rocket and tomato and some pesto stuff. WH is a savoury cheesecake thing with mint and peas on top. I think you might of had to be there as the pic doesn’t do it justice.
Sunday is our final day and it is a music day everywhere with Cotignac being no exception. We wake and repeat then head down for lunch in our favourite lunch restaurant where a band is playing Spanish music and people are doing the salsa in the heat or sitting under the shade of the plane tree clapping. We eat our lunch in between being seranaded and clapping to the beat. It’s a great vibe. We head back up for a swim then down again for the evening festivities. We sit in the square with the music and foodtrucks and get, of all things, a poke bowl for dinner. We watch the locals gather as the kids careen around through the crowd and dance in front of the stage. Our coffee lady greets us and we converse again in our short broken sentences. We move on to the next square by the restaurants and there are less kids but no less dancing. It’s been a fun week.
PS
If you are thinking this one finishes abruptly then you are correct as had to cut it short as haven’t packed and need to check out. But i little birdie tweeted me early hours this morning to remind me to hurry up:-). Thanks Jojo.