French Deal

There is no end to the opportunities presented in this region. World class concerts in wonderous surroundings; festivals; great scenery; lunches with friends beneath shady trees; volunteering, sewing, fetching neighbours children from schools; the vegetable patch; starry starry black skies and full moons to die for. Then there is fantastic walking.

Take today for example.

I woke deciding I needed more exercise. So popped on the boots, grabbed a bottle of water, picked up a detailed map of the area and set off. The first path through the trees had me stumped after a while because the road descended into a small path when, at the bottom of a hill, the pathway was flooded. Must have been irrigation water because there hasn't been any water for two months. I was just about to take off my boots and socks when, from out of literally nowhere that I could see, up came a car. In it was Jean Jacques my nearby farmer who asked me if I was lost. Absolutely not, I retorted, here's my map and the path. He informed me that none of those paths existed any more because local farmers like him had bought them and planted maize everywhere. Janet Street-Porter would not have accepted that. But I did, so I turned back and went a different way.

Thrilled at the joy of the sunshine, freedom and lush lush vegetation which benefits from the rains peculiar to the Pyrenees, I smelt the smell of herbs. Strange, I thought, strange indeed.

I turned the corner on the barely pebbled path and came across three huge fields of 'herbs'. Indeedy. And we're not talking lavendar, thyme or any of that sort of stuff.

Wow - how about that! So I texted my friend who is just about to come out to see me and said that on the second night of his visit, when there is a full moon, we have a 2 am rendezvous. Armed with my sissors and a small bag for personal use only, we're going herb picking.

Now, where is the lack of opportunity in that?

The picture above is my lucky find in the fields of Oraas.