Porte d'Aval

Going back to school at the end of the holidays felt like clambering into a very fragile little canoe and pushing it out into a choppy sea this morning.  But I was buoyed by your lovely comments at reaching my blip milestone (given the number of years I've been blipping I should be on several thousand entries by now, but there has been, at times, a lack of due diligence)

The staff room table was groaning with food when I arrived; Chocolatines from Anne'lo, truffles from Russia and huge slices of Barbinis marble cake.  

This evening, in the little cottage in Rue Carnot, Martin laid on market day fodder; black olive tapenade, chevre with sun dried tomatoes, asparagus tips and feta.  

We walked home in the early dark via the village walls.  The sea seemed calmer and I felt my little boat had found an even keel.