More From France

I got all too used to waiting for the smell of coffee to waft up the top floor where my shared room with olive leaf wall paper lay nestled under the roof.  Our kitchen, as opposed to the working kitchen where the big meals were prepared, sported an assortment of crockery and handpainted cupboards. Although the coffe made was just a sort of everyday Arabica, after a 30 year hiatus I was in love again.

Early morning view from one of the bathrooms at La Masion Verte in Roujan.

Looking into the courtyard. Note the wrought iron railing,  the different sorts of railings on the houses were a study all their own.

A window in the "morning room" where we gathered for coffee and croissants.

Yes, I lived, for a time, in a house with chandeliers, it is true.

This dregs of a coffe drink is not from France but from the Heathrow Airport where the food and food choices are actually quite good and you can get free WiFi. 

Random Photos

Dessert the first night at a restuarant in Toulouse, it was futile to resist dessert after that. Every night at La Masion Verte dessert was served and every night seemed the surpass the offering of the preceding evening. I found myself wondering what would be for dessert half way through the meal. Now home I am completely uninterested in dessert, maybe becuase I would have to make it.

The houses in Roujan are mostly thick stone appartments, side by side, there is probably a proper word for that which I do not possess in my vocabularly. The domiciles are differentiated by their grill work, paint colors, door knockers and mail boxes.

This archy window was above the kitchen sink in the kitchen where we found our coffee every morning. I love this little cow, a cousin to the cave bison. Later for artistic purposes another tranisistory occupant moved said cow and replaced it with three small pitchers, which I would again move and replace with the cow every now and then.

Ah the Pyrenees barely two hours from Roujan, beautiful, for some reason like coming home, I wept, slightly, behind my glasses. In the Pyrenees is Cave Niaux which boasts fabulous cave paintings. Go there if you possibly can.

A town in the Pyrenees where you can really batten down the hatches.

The beach, the sky, one needs no more.