La vita é bella

Another couple of fine days, though not without reminders of the things that can drive one mad about France. We still need some heating in the house, morning and evening, and the gas bottle had run out. A couple of years ago, we got a no-deposit bottle from the Intermarché, and I remember being amused at the fact that a contract still had to be made out. When I went up for a refill, I was told that they no longer did that (their own) brand, and that they wouldn't take the bottle back without the contract. All expressed in a manner that implied that it was all my fault for being an ignorant foreigner. I did think of just dumping it, but then they'd be able to deny having had it back, and pursue me for the cost of the bottle. I unfortunately forgot to pack the household admin file when we left, so will have to store the bottle until the summer. The neighbouring Brico d'Oc provided me with a new bottle of Spanish gas, with no deposit, no contract and a free adaptor. And a smile.

It was fine enough later to grill a couple of steaks on the barbecue and have dinner outside, listening to the sounds of the village and watching the house martins twisting and turning through the air as they shopped for dinner. But we'd to head indoors when the sun went down: it is only mid-April, after all.

We took our ritual ride over the hills to Limoux yesterday for pizzas at the Grand Café. Martyn drove, since I'd twisted my ankle the night before when I was getting the chairs out. So I got to admire the scenery and the wild flowers by the roadside. The cowslips are terrific this year, and the orchids and poppies are blooming in profusion. Judas trees are covered in blossom in village gardens, and the lilacs and wisteria are adding their pale mauve to the palette. The new foliage on the vines gives almost as much variety of greens as it does reds and yellows in the autumn. The different grape varieties vary in colour as well as flavour, and bring pleasure to the eyes as well as the palate.

And this time the pizzas were pretty good as well: my favourite has mushrooms, magret, potatoes, mozzarella and crème fraîche, and it was all the nicer for being consumed in sunlight filtered through the canopy of a young plane tree in the pleasant square (photo from last October). Martyn goes for one with fresh and smoked salmon, also made with crème fraîche. Modest dinner, however, with more lettuce than anything else!