A French Summer Jaunt.

Last week, along with 27 others, i found myself amongst hollyhocks and sandy beaches and houses where all of the shudders are varying shades of sea foam green. Ile de Ré is full of bicycles and donkeys who wear striped trousers and picturesque marinas, and when visited with so many friends it begins to feel a bit unreal. There was the 4th of July barbecue complete with burgers and homemade brioche buns and cobbler and onion rings, days spent on the beach and nights spent drinking rosé and playing foosball. And then to top it all off i went to Paris afterwards and re-fell in love with the city and again found myself feeling like my surroundings looked a bit surreal. Maybe it's just France.

France and Spain, the lands of roundabouts.

Yesterday i got back from a trip to the catalan regions of France and Spain. We had to fly into a small airport that looked like it hadn't been touched since the 70s, then drive along scary coastal roads without barriers to a hotel in the middle of Argeles and Collioure, two towns that couldn't be any more different from each other. One was a beachside town that had more tourist traps and kebab shops than i've ever seen crammed into one place, think the jersey shore on crack... and filled with french people. The other, Collioure, has been standing since the 600s when King Wamba of the Visigoths lived there. It's filled with windy streets and ice cream on every corner. Much more my speed. Every day was filled with sunshine and delicious food, and now after that, i'm refreshed and back to reality.