Noir.

Can you believe that on Saturday we were almost half way to Nimes before we realised that the train we were catching was actually.....from Avignon. Sometimes I can't believe how downright dim we are....I'm ashamed to admit that I'd even been reading the ticket to check the time and it still hadn't registered that my husband was driving the car towards the wrong city. Thank God for the eleven year old who luckily realised our folly. Once we turned around the GPS said that we would have seven minutes to spare once we made it to Avignon....and we still couldn't work out where exactly the TGV station was. Desperate times meant that I felt justified in changing the GPS language from French to English.....and discovered that the station we were looking for was on the other side of town.....in a field. Three minutes. I kid you not that we almost jumped out of that station wagon before it had come to a standstill, ran up the escalator onto the first platform we came across and threw ourselves onto the train which was just arriving. It was our train and we made it. I still don't know how. Why are all of our French train experiences like mini self induced massive coronaries?

My eleven year old daughter and I were in Lyon to take my new pink handbag back to the shop....now it has gone to the Dior workshop to be mended and hopefully we will be reunited before I leave the country. Meanwhile, across the road was a shop notorious for it's beautiful scarves. I know that I'd had my heart set on a particular pink one, however when the chap checked on the computer, the only one available was in Bordeaux....which is rather a long way away. Nevermind, we were seduced by the beautiful black 'Le Songe de la Licorne' with fluoro details:

I bought my first Hermes scarf in Sydney after I received my first pay check from my first ever proper job......way back in the mists of time. I have added to my collection at a rate of one every ten years.....unlike my friend the eternally glamorous and hysterically funny Faux Fuchsia.....who's strike rate is much higher.....at about one every ten minutes! She also has a seriously impressive repertoire of knot tying. Even though I have a book, I usually stick to this, my favourite knot, which I taught her how to wear in London:

Now, if you would like to try this at home....all you do is lay your scarf, pattern side down, and keep folding it in on itself...about four times....until you end up with a long roll:

Tie a loose knot in the centre:

Position the knot, depending on whim, either in the centre or off to one side:

Pass the ends around behind your neck and then manoeuvre each end through the knot, one side at a time:

Pull down firmly on the red toggles.....et voila:

Lucky for me, they threw in a box of Knotting Cards, so, with some practice, maybe I can move into uncharted territory, beyond my old favourite.....I'm thinking about attempting the halter neck boob tube.

Meanwhile, on our return from Lyon we rushed over to the Pont du Gard for the spectacle 'Les Feeries du Pont'. 

This is how this ancient Roman aqueduct looks on any given day:

From our picnic spot on the grass it looked like this:

That was before darkness descended and Ulysses embarked on his magical journey through time and into the future in 'Ulysse au Pays des Merveilles' or 'Ulysses in Wonderland'. Then it looked like this....wonderland. Covered in this instance in groovy, hippy, flower power blooms:

I don't think I have ever seen anything so cleverly executed and spellbindingly beautiful....the whole family were entranced.....even the two year old. If you ever find yourself down this way when one of these performances are on then make sure that you buy tickets. You'll regret it if you don't. Consider yourself warned.

Due to crowds, traffic and a long walk we didn't manage to reach home, which by the way is usually only ten minutes down the road, until well after midnight so I suppose that we were up most of the night....well, by our standards anyway. Which leads me into a segue for the Daft Punk song that every radio station around these parts are playing ad nauseum and that I just can't get seem to get out of my head:

On the upside, it's a great song to jog to.

Rx