Winter in Provence

I’m trying to get back into the routine of regular morning posting. This morning, though, I got up at 5.30 to drive my father, the Midland Potato Farmer, to the airport. Got back at 6.30, very cold (it was -3 degrees). Got back to sleep about 7.30 and slept until 10.40. I NEVER do this and am still shocked at myself.

I’m going to sit here and think about what I’ve done and you can look at this selection of photos from the weekend.

Dog-training in the park:

The market in the Place des Precheurs:

The inimitable Aix flair for van-dressing:

Stand-up coffee at the Brulerie Richelme:

Filet de boeuf (and when I asked for mine rare, the waiter visibly relaxed and said he was worried I would want it well done. He’s heard that that’s what foreigners do. Oh no, I said, I was well brought up.):

Mimet, the village where we had Sunday lunch: