Coo-eee…I’m back.
However, I’m afraid I have nothing very exciting to report (sorry, Alex!) – it was just…nice. We went to Mirepoix, a medieval fortified town (a bastide) in Ariège. Our hotel room was overlooked by the cathedral and so I was woken every morning by a deafening cacophony of bells (why do they have to strike the hour twice??). The bed was rubbish…
However, I’m afraid I have nothing very exciting to report (sorry, Alex!) – it was just…nice. We went to Mirepoix, a medieval fortified town (a bastide) in Ariège. Our hotel room was overlooked by the cathedral and so I was woken every morning by a deafening cacophony of bells (why do they have to strike the hour twice??). The bed was rubbish…
We walked a lot – between eight and twelve kilometres a day - in the surrounding hills. The weather was beautiful. We talked a bit and only argued twice and…we ate too much cheese.
But at least my husband was his old self, if a little sadder. And although my feelings for him haven’t changed - I have. Like Mirepoix, I was completely destroyed - then rebuilt from scratch in a safer place, with bloomin’ great thick walls around me…
And with that excruciatingly pretentious simile (or is it a metaphor?), I leave you…because my feet are still killing me from all that walking and they need a good long soak…
