France Diary Days Eight, Nine, Ten… ah hell, whose counting anymore.

Okay, so I guess I’ve fallen for the Cote d’Azur. I love being warm all the time – never having to go out packing a cagoul, umbrella, wellies and all the usual paraphernalia of UK outings. I love the patisseries. I love going in the pool on the site and swimming under a forever-blue sky.

We’ve been to St Raphael; Cannes on the train; the Gorge du Verdon; Grasse…  I can’t decide which place I’ve enjoyed the most, although the gorge was way more impressive than I expected (and I expected a lot). But then Grasse, clinging to the side of an Alp, with its narrow streets and the Fragonard Gallery, which was free and utterly brilliant. And the opulence of Cannes. It was great to see the hand-prints of the stars, just like Hollywood, and the expensive yachts tied up in the marina.

I’ll keep this short, for once. The holiday is, at last, going well, and I am conscious of the sad fact that good holidays make rotten tales.