Sitting here in Provence looking out across the vines to Bonnieux, the welcome peace surrounds me. Every year for the last eleven years we have come here and every bend in the road seems familiar. Here we slip in to old routines without really needing to question anything.
Coffee is often taken at Christine's, the big steaming bowls of creamy cafe au lait always a delight, the croissants baked to just the right side of 'doughy'. The omelette bar in Bouix is the place for lunch, the old 'lean to' shack slightly updated this year with new wooden tables and less rickety chairs. The food is the same however, huge, light fluffy omelettes bursting with local cheese, the salad is a work of art, tomatoes and leaves sprinkled with olives and sesame seeds, and glistening with herb dressing. The frites! My goodness they are the best, everyone says so and people come from far and wide to sample them. Monsieur serves us with polite formality and quietly walks backwards and forwards to his patient wife in the kitchen. We have never met Madame but they seem the perfect pair.
Days are often spent lounging by the pool, reading, writing or listening to music and contemplating the world. Dinners are spent with our friends discussing our favourite topics and finding new ways to solve the problems of life.
It seems that nothing really changes here.At home we are used to 24hour opening at the shops, most things available at the touch of a button, which is great most of the time. But here in Provence life remains as it always was and the locals are reluctant to change. We get used to gearing the day around rigid opening times, the fact that if you arrive at your favoured restaurant at one minute past two you won't get in no matter how much you bat your eyelids, and we shop at markets where local seasonal produce is the order of the day - no forced, out of season vegetables sprayed and packaged within an inch of it's life here!
Yesterday, I re-read Peter Mayle's 'Encore Provence', and in one chapter he describes a meal at a Bistro in the nearest town to us- Apt. The meal sounded so mouthwateringly good, I insisted we try it that very night. 'But the book's eleven years old cry my companions, it may not be the same!' 'It will be,' I say. And guess what? It was! Hot, ripe melted cheese served in earthenware bowls with fresh bread, home made taglitelle topped with frois gras and morrells, and light sponge topped with luscious salty caramel sauce - need I say more!?
Have to go now, I'm off to the omelette bar again! Au Revoir.
Sounds wonderful, Lyn.
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