Avignon’s been nuts. Nuts! Nüts!
Well it hasn’t been that nuts. But kind of. Here – watch me as I write another gorgeous diary entry for you.
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France | Pickles
I turned 30 on Sunday. Wasn’t that big of a deal in the end. It’s sort of mad to think that I worried so grandly about it for like, ten years – and regularly made a right mess of things because of this mad looming fear of being Too Old for Stuff – and then it just happened regardless and it’s basically fine.
Continue readingAvignon | Encore
The train from Marseille to Avignon was a pleasant 90 minutes. The south of France looks like Spain, and reminds me of family holidays when I was a kid – walking along in flip flops and baggy shirts down to the beachfront restaurants for an evening meal, the night air warm, crickets chirping in the bushes.
I met Seth at the station. I’d been running late, and when I found him outside he was leaning on a railing, shaven-headed, grinning at me through a pair of dark sunglasses.
“Hello mate,” he said, when I came in for a hug.
It’s always nice to be back.
Continue readingAvignon | Pompette
This weekend just gone, Jeanne and I took a train and went to visit some very good friends in the south of France. God I’m so proud of that sentence. Aren’t I classy these days?
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