Well, spring has certainly taken me by surprise. I left home in good time for my Ryanair flight back to London this morning, while Luis, after stopping to buy pains au chocolats drove me to Poitiers airport like the proverbial bat out of hell. I'll even have time to grab a quick coffee in the bar upstairs, I thought to myself.
As we approached the airport, I spotted the Ryanair jet on the runway. 'That's a little odd,' I said. 'The plane is normally facing the opposite direction.'
This I subsequently discovered was because it was fully boarded and about to take off.
'C'est trop tard, madame', said the customs man as I tried to sail through the small gate.
I thought he was having a little joke with me until the roar of the planes engines confirmed that he was in fact telling the truth. Oh la vache!, as they say here. Yes, I forgot - or rather, didn't realise - that the clocks went forward last night.
Two years ago I hung up my high heels, put the Prada handbags into storage and left behind my fashionable West London life to renovate an old village house in rural France. Et voila. This blog is about what happened next....
Oh dear! I hope there was a later flight, so Biff doesn't get too lonesome.
I notice, after all the discussions about Miss/Mrs/Ms that an adult woman in France is "Madame", whether she is married or not.