Quite an oxymoronic title today. Since when does the sun & the sea go hand in hand with Christmas? I would have to apologise if you’re here hoping to read about a cold, glacial, nestling around the fireplace type of holiday, because none of these will happen in Béziers. At a town in the south of France, drawing close to the Mediterranean Sea, wishing for snow is like hoping for a cow to sing.
The sun’s a fireball, its light almost blinding and the sky is spotless everyday. What snow? The only place I see snow everyday is my blog. So, there you go.
Last year, Q and I had no choice but to celebrate Christmas in the overly-snowy Seoul. And I was nowhere as happy as I am now. So, you won’t catch me furrowing my eyebrows or, in fact, showing any sign of disapproval because cold and nestling around the fireplace? I can do that during the entire winter back in the UK.
The day started with the ritual trip to boulangerie, ie. the bakery where the French get their daily supply of baguette, to ensure a smooth sailing through the day. Yep, its significance should not be underestimated. Glad to say that after some intensive training, I’ve mastered the skill of baguette-cutting. Black-belt equivalent, or so you can say.
We had aligot (basically cheese and mashed potato) and steak for lunch, then finished with these pretty macarons from Maison Georges Larnicol .
No better time than then to take a drive to the Valras beach. It’s a 30-minute drive from town and the sun was glorious all the way.
The big day is inching closer and closer. Can’t stop the unchanging “fa la la la la la” from running in my head. So, I’ll go off now to sing out loud to the cow. If you’d excuse me. He’ll be glad.
With love x
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