What I love most about living in France are the daily rituals: opening the shutters first thing in the morning, walking to the bakery to buy croissants and bread and then having breakfast outside, birds singing somewhere above the high stone walls. Then, early evening, there is the ritual of watering the geraniums in the window boxes and making a little tour of the courtyard with a watering can to revive the lavender, jasmine, the peony (yes, it’s still alive) and other herbs and flowers growing in terracotta pots.
My favourite ritual of all however, is hanging out the washing in the courtyard. Having lived in a top floor flat with no outside space for the past ten years, being able to hang clothes on a washing line and watch as they dance around in the breeze, is an absolute luxury. There is no bottled perfume that smells as good as freshly laundered cotton sheets left to gently blow-dry on a line. For me, this is even more of a thrill than buying new Louboutin heels - and best of all, it's free.
Aw, even domestic chores take on an air of romance in our little corner of France.
Meanwhile, the weather is appalling here in London. 'Dank holiday weekend' they are calling it.
Wish I was there!