Departure

It's that time of year again. Time to pack our bags and return to Blighty.

The three months seem to have flown by. Unfortunately I haven't been able to do as much as I'd wanted on account of some developing health issues, but it's still been a wonderful break. I'm now left wondering if I'll ever return? If my mobility becomes worse, and I lose my ability to drive, I shall have to remain in Brighton whilst the others head south without me.

I shan't really mind. I've had over 50 years in France and they have all been filled with wonderful memories.

So, time now to return to a simpler life in England. To pints of bitter at my local, to shopping at Sainsbury's and Waitrose, to Pork Pies, a Chinese takeaway maybe, to the friendliness of our neighbours and acquaintances, and of course to family.

It's a strange feeling, having lived in a foreign country for so long, spoken their language, and adopted their ways, to return to the home of my birth once and for all. To know that never again will I stop to chat with my oldest friends here; José and Jean-Claude. Nor to head off to the woods each morning to gather wild mushrooms. Or even take the road each week to the supermarket where I've shopped once a week for decades. Of course none of this is certain, but I'm not over optimistic.

Ours is a pretty little house, built from stone and topped with ancient clay 'Roman' tiles; I shall miss it terribly. We've added to the original one derelict room quite extensively; keeping the local artisans, and myself, busy over the years. I'm very proud to say that I've rescued a 300 year old house from certain ruin, and created a comfortable and charming home. Had it been bought by a Frenchman, it would either have been demolished, or made into a 'modern featureless bungalow'. They still rarely see the beauty in ancient stones.

Other than the bare-bones of the single room cottage, there had been just one very old Pear tree, leaning perilously towards the house, that had to come down. Everything growing there now was planted by us!

So, goodbye little house. Goodbye pool. And goodbye to the little tower built by Lady M and myself. I've loved every minute of my life here (other than welcoming a few unpleasant new neighbours), and I genuinely hope that I've made some lasting contribution to our tiny community.

This is not a definitive 'adieu' to my little cottage (or to France), because medical science might suddenly find a miracle cure for my ailing back, hips, knee, and legs, but I'm not holding my breath.

On verra bien!  

The car is packed, and I shall be on the road for a couple of days, so I won't be able to reply to comments. See you again soon!