I've always been a lover of France. I spent a childhood travelling around the country of fine wine, cuisine and exquisite language. The language, literature, movies and history of this country is second to none.
Toulouse is a city I have previously visited, but this time I was heading two-hours south to the border with the Pyrenees. We were staying a beautiful old farmhouse, complete with views of the French countryside and mountain range. The house was completely secluded, we'd be lucky to see one tractor a day. The house was located near a Fois Gras farm, one that I wanted to venture to but didn't manage to leave the compound!
The air was fresh and wine was flowing, can't argue with 10 litres of red wine. We watched the sun rise on more than one occasion. Watching the night slowly turn into day over the house.
We spent most of the days sampling fine local cheeses, pates, fresh breads and meats from the region. It really is a life that I would love to live. Perhaps in Montpelier though.
The highlight of the holiday was writing the most superb rock opera, that involved elephants made out of midgets, being African dancers and riding a huge inflatable Michael Jackson. This was closely followed by freaking ourselves out by the remoteness of the house and the lights flickering, before moving from room to room carrying a box of wine like a man down.
This decended into chaos as we embarked on crossing the fields as morning broke to investigate a dubious light coming from the trees. Armed with nothing but one pair of flip-flops between the two of us and a glass of red wine each. This was not the fairies that we imagined, but the light from the moon bouncing off a hidden lake!
First published 4 November 2009
