Aigues-Mortes

I love Mediterranean lifestyle, but this year was so hot I thought I’d melt right there on the sidewalk like an ice cube. I had trouble sleeping at night and I found it hard to find the motivation to do anything after midday. Had I been traveling solo, you would have found me in the shade, eating olives and drinking rosé or sitting on the beach under an umbrella with a cocktail all day long. 😉 But I thank the stars my love is less affected by the heat than I am and generally a much more reasonable person altogether. 😉 Haha! And even though we had our share of self indulging, we also found the time and energy to travel around a bit.

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Peaceful Days

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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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?

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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.

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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.

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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.

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Drop me a line. I’ve missed you!

 

 

Gothenburg

17th of May, Norway’s national day, fell on a Thursday this year and since it’s Pentecost on Monday, yippie yay for yet a long bank holiday! And given we’re not into crowds, flags or loud intoxicated youths and we don’t have children who play in a band, we thought we’d skip the whole shebang and escape to Sweden! And it turned out Gothenburg was a hidden gem, at least in this summer weather we’ve been having! “One should think Italy moved to Sweden”, I told a bartender excitedly, while waiting for him to pour our rosé. “I know, it’s unbelievable, it’s even hotter than the Mediterranean these days!”

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Garden Life

I haven’t blogged in a long time and I realized I’ve kind of missed it! The thing is I’m trying to write “real stuff”- short stories or even a novel and the process is exhausting, I’m telling you! Besides, it leaves me with a feeling that blogging is just amateur writing that no one reads anyways. But then a couple of friends told me they were looking forward to my new entries and so I decided to let you know how things are on this side of the world. 😉

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Bucharest part II

I was a bit disappointed to hear that F was teased at work since he’d caught a cold and stayed home for a couple of days right after our trip: “Did you get food poisoning in Bucharest?” a French buddy said. “I hear you were in Bucharest”, a Czech colleague added, “it must have been wild!” And I know it was all a joke to them, but I have to admit it hurt. Here we are in 2018, traveling like never before and still harboring the same stereotype views of the world. Book a trip, I blurted out! We decided to invite them and serve them Romanian wine the same quality and price range as the French ones, hiding the label to see their reaction. ‘Cause it’s easy to classify persons as “ignorants”, but the thing is many decent people probably feel the same way, but don’t say it out loud and so nobody ever corrects them. Anyways, rant of the day.

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Spring in Bucharest

Good old Bucharest! I hadn’t been home since October, I was planning a trip in February, but then a trial came up and I postponed it, just to get the flue and succumb to it for 3 whole weeks. In the meantime both Diana and my brother got the chicken pox and so in the end I was lucky to stay away, ’cause I can’t remember having had it as a child. In the end we decided to go together for the Protestant Easter, since it’s a bank holiday and we both had some time off.

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