It’s holiday season in Argelès, and I am looking forward to the next three weeks. As I walked down the street, I saw another summer resident, also newly arrived. As I told her about my train ride from hell and how I wanted a hot shower, she ran upstairs to bring down some bath gel she had brought me from the UK.
Walking down my street, I was greeted by someone I knew. As we talked I heard. “Donna-Lane, do you want some coffee and a pain au chocolate.” The voice was from on high and feminine. God was either a woman speaking from on high or my neighbor who has a kitchen on the second floor. She cannot see out. I went up to her terrace and enjoyed a breakfast with her daughter visiting from Denmark.
Across the street, another annual holidayer, back from Copenhagen, waved to me. He is 14 this year, much bigger than last.
Starting tomorrow night is a theatre festival in a neighboring town. I discussed which plays we would go to with my friend Barbara over tea at La Noisette, my favorite tearoom down here.
Other old friends from previous summers wandered by.
The season has begun.
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