Imagine That
Every time I consider leaving Paris I’m reminded that I need to live in a walkable city. The joy of strolling to the post office via the bookstore, popping into the greengrocer for a single ingredient, dropping off photos to be developed and then stopping to have my sunglasses tightened on the way home is just one of threads that sew together my life here. If I never have to drive again I’ll be happy.
After a few days of regular programming we packed up for yet another long weekend and I’d carefully planned our trip, coordinating the train and ferry to maximise every minute the children were off school. Unfortunately our ferry was cancelled at the last minute so with our own apartment rented and new train tickets impossible on one of the busiest travel days of the year we made the best of it and bunked down in St Malo for the night, indulging in a lovely browse of the local shops and a long dinner at Café de l’Ouest and a peep at my dream house.
The children bounced out of bed at 5.30am for the boat but their enthusiasm waned as we pulled out of the harbour and into the English Channel, and one by one everyone around me succumbed to sea-sickness while I passed out disposable bags. “Imagine that for months on end” I replied curtly to my husband who was searching for sympathy but forgot I’m not at my best on an early start.
We wasted no time getting re-acquainted with Jersey and rotated daily through coffee at Solshine, lunch at the Crab Shack, walks to the “secret beach”, endless ice creams and dinner while admiring the views. The only time we needed the car was for a trip to my spiritual home of Waitrose for kitchen bits and bobs and Thai basil (if you know where to get this in Paris please share with me), plus armfuls of books and trashy magazines.
The (much dreaded) journey home thankfully passed without incident. No-one was ill, the boat and train were reliable with just enough time for lunch and a scramble on the beach in-between and we even managed to secure anniversary gifts to celebrate 9 years of marriage (pottery… solid yet fragile, I’ve got my eye on a nice piece of Astier de Villatte too).
Noisette was a little nonchalant upon our return in punishment for her time at the dog-sitter (if you need a good dog-sitter email me for her details, she’s perfect) but I happen to know she was treated like a princess and offered her first puppuchino. As usual her ire didn’t last long and she was soon glued to my feet, desperate for pats.
I immediately started on the 11(!) piles of laundry that somehow accumulated in the 5 minutes we were away and with nothing in the fridge we had breakfast for dinner.
Have a great week,
- Emily
Cheese we’re eating this week:
Yorkshire Wensleydale Cheese with Cranberry - a crumbly pasteurised cow’s milk cheese speckled with sweetened cranberry pieces.
Long Clawson Shropshire Blue - a rich and creamy blue cheese made with pasteurised cow’s milk.
Godminster Black Truffle Cheddar - a bold and rich organic cheddar from pasteurised cow’s milk and studded with black truffles.
All 3 cheeses were bought from Waitrose.
Real Life France Photo
The MVP of French holidays.
Recent Finds Worth Sharing:
After going make-up free for months because I simply can’t be bothered taking off mascara this hourglass one is a revelation.
Hooked, by Asako Yuzuki. I hate read Butter but raced through her newest novel in under 24 hours.
This Invisible Sun Fluid SFP50+ by La Rosée. Light and non-greasy with great protection and no nasties.
Those cheeses! Next time I’m placing an order (or will trade for Junior Mints)
Name bowls! As someone with a French name, I grew up in the States without the joy of personalized trinkets. On my first trip to Paris, I stopped into a toy shop and they had a Micheline bowl. I found another one later from Quimper. Hoping to expand my collection someday.