I realized I wrote the previous entry in a state of what you might call holiday blues. Now, four days away from our return, I feel I can do our vacantion more justice.

I wake up at about 8, my mouth a bit dry from too much wine yesterday, my head heavy with sleep. I have trouble falling asleep when it’s this hot. I move around from the couch to the bed and then back, chasing the evening breeze.

I open the doors to the balcony and let the morning light in, then follow it for the rest of the morning, first as a perpendicular line on the neighbouring block, then like a reflector on their balcony door, as if waiting for whoever lives there to step into the sunshine and grab their 5 minutes of fame.

I make some coffee, it’s too hot to drink it warm and so I add three ice cubes and a dash of milk. I listen to the city sounds, the occasional car or motorcycle ventures into our little alley and I welcome the feeling of everyday peace it brings me.

I open my book, it’s supposed to be glorious, but for now I fail to see it, so I put it away and start reading about a trip to Mauritania in winter, walking through the dessert and sleeping under the stars. Maybe we could do that for Christmas?

I open the cupboard and take out a couple of Oreillettes, sweet cakes thin as a sheet of paper, sprinkled with sugar and tasting like orange blossom. They’re so good, I need to learn how to make them, I don’t think I can live without them from now on.

Today we’re going to F’s aunt for lunch, so I should chill that rosé and brush up my French. It’s coming together, all the words I forgot or never learned in the first place suddenly come to the surface.

She lives in the countryside, in a quaint stone house by an olive grove, with a husband and a lovely dog who’s afraid of her own shadow.

We’re looking for a property, for now we’re still dreaming, but I could really see myself living here during the summer and I know that if it was my place I wouldn’t have time to get bored.

It’s ten already and I’m still lounging in my beach towel, to hot to put on clothes and too alluring to go back to sleep.

Drop me a line. I’ve missed you!