Not going out

A storm is blowing around the port this weekend so I’m staying inside, having a caravan day, and making a tarte Tatin with endive, pear and hazelnuts.

Three hundred days of sunshine a year, they said. The view is made even more lovely by the graffiti’d container plonked outside for the roadworks.

At 7am, I opened the bedroom windows to fold back the shutters and was lashed in the face by a sheet of rain. Good morning to you. In the square, the fronds on palm trees waved dramatically.