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The French Italian Job Sunday

So today we started our journey home. We spent a few hours tidying up and washing stuff then packed up and began our long journey back to Beaune. As is the way, a long very uneventful, unconed, uncontrolled drive. No stupid “smart” motorways, no cameras, drivers who for the most part know how to drive. You need to have driven in France or even Italy, to appreciate how bad driving and in the UK is. We had a lovely stroll around Beaune, a pleasant meal with red wine this time, cafe gourmand for pud and said goodnight to Frosty, who was tucked up in his garage for the night.


The French Italian Job Saturday

It was a sweltering night and we both slept badly. A storm was forecast for late afternoon but it didn’t wait that long and we sitting on the loggia munching pizza when it arrived, dropping the temperature by a good 10C, but although it looked angry there was not much rain. More wine for lunch, Exception this time for old times sake,another sleep, waking just in time to greet the real storm ⛈ when there was a great deal of rain and lightening. And the day got better 😃. We walked out to Port Grimaud for a meal, only a mile or do up the road, what could go wrong? It was a miserable noisy place, the food when it came was cold and we were glad to get out and treat ourselves to an ice cream. We chose white chocolate and salted caramel just as a few spikes of lightening lit up the sky. A few licks later and down came the rain and didn’t it pour 😳. I’ve never eaten ice cream in the pouring rain before and we got home completely drenched, as did my phone, now liberatingly and permanently silent🤭.

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The French Italian Job Friday

We were starting to get weary of constant 30-34C heat, more especially as it didn’t seem to cool below 28 at night and we were now in the apartment with no air conditioning. We treated ourselves to croissants for breakfast, had a slow morning, a sit by the pool and a swim. Some wine with our lunch gave us the incentive for an afternoon sleep 😴. Then it was time to get ready for our meal in the hilltop village of Gassin which was a lovely cool relief from the blistering heat of the coast. Make no mistake, those profiteroles of mine were huge.