Le Weekend in Spring



I've brought the wrong clothes again - a new wool dress and a range of outfits to go with my boots - but who cares when the sun is this bright and the temperature is rising? It's not until we arrive here that I realise how low the grey clouds have been and how grumpy I have been for the past few months.

 

It's true, there is something very special about the quality of the light in the South of France. In Spring it's luminous rather than stark and it seems to light up the flowers and blossom and stone from within. At the market this morning, the displays of fruit and vegetables were given an extra dazzle by the sun. There were banks of stalls selling pretty linen tops and I choose one in gold-green. The accordion player (no French musical cliché unturned...) opposite the olive and tapenade stall made us want to stay outside forever.

 

On to the wine shop, V Comme Vin, for some cool, pale rosé - they give the best recommendations - and then was unable to resist buying some orange and pistachio macaroons that looked shiny but delectably squidgy. Lemons, fennel and tarragon to make a lemon chicken dish. White asparagus. A length of cheap material to use as a new tablecloth, and we are all set for the weekend!