Happy days

"Happy days roll onward leading up to golden years."

Alfred Lord Tennyson

Every now and then I change my computer desktop wallpaper - I think that's what they call it - from a photograph picked from my photo libraries - almost at random. This is what I chose the day before yesterday - such a happy picture - of a holiday in France 20 years ago, when I was a mere 62 years old. A baby, with many of those golden years still to come.

The group consists of two sets of university friends, some Australian friends and David's sister, with another group of Australian friends to join us later in the week, although staying in a separate bed and breakfast, as our Maison de Maître in the centre of the village of Varages in Provence due north of Toulon and a bit west of Aix en Provence, was not big enough to accommodate them. A little visited part of Provence.

Alas two of those in this picture are no longer with us - I hope their survivors will not mind my including them here. Below is the house, whose façade looks fairly modest - fronting on to the main square of the large village/small town, with the local boulangerie and café/restaurant a mere hop, skip and a jump away . However, it was indeed a large house of what must have been three storeys? The English couple - and their lovely dog - who owned the house - the house of the potter - lived in an apartment on the first floor, the rest of us lived on the top floor in four spacious rooms each with our own bathroom.

And out the back was a beautiful garden complete with swimming pool and two large tables at which to gather:

We have had many, many such holidays in our retired lives - each trip to France or Italy was for six weeks or so, each one of them with a different group of friends and family in different places, in beautiful houses in glorious, mostly little known corners of France - La France Profonde. Yes we visited the local tourist spots - this week included a trip to St. Tropez and one to the Gorges de Verdun and the nearby Lake of St. Croix:

Mostly however we just went for long walks in the countryside - like the one on my opening picture which ended in the next village with lunch of delicious things like salade niçoise, and which had entailed a complicated drive of two cars into the village in the morning - leaving one of them there so that we did not have to walk back. Somehow or other we packed everyone into the one car - I vaguely remember sitting in the boot. Illegal surely.

For we have learnt over the years that every village has a story and many, many beautiful things. Perhaps it's because those two countries are at the top of the world tourist destinations, but every village seems to take pride in putting on a beautiful face, with flowers and ceramics, shutters and paintings, so that even the wires and clothing lines strung up higgledy-piggledy everywhere look like objects in an art gallery. Or is it because we are on holiday in a world far from our own, determined to be happy. A random thought - poppies seem to have been a big thing for some of us on this particular holiday. We took lots of pictures of them. And Sue painted them too.

But this is a food blog - and there are some stories to tell on the food front on this particular holiday. At home the ladies - well three of them took turns to cook the dinner. One would be in charge and the rest of us would be sous chefs, chopping up vegetables and clearing up. This was generally a good arrangement, but on one occasion - my dinner of a pasta salad - Mireille - the French wife of our university friend exchanged words, because Mireille had dared to meddle with my salad in some way I cannot now remember whilst I was out of the kitchen - and probably to my advantage - but I was offended, and lost my cool somewhat which led to marginal frostiness in the air - for a short time. The meal on the left is Mireille's.

On a couple of days we dined in the local café restaurant which was classic in every way. We had no need to seek out Michelin starred - or even recommended spots in nearby places. You get to chat to the owner, and to the cooks because they are delighted to have foreign visitors of course, particularly if several of them speak French and one actually is French!

Two more food related stories. Whilst some of us were on that boat in the Gorges de Verdun - at least an hour's trip I think, the rest of the party visited the hypermarket on the way home to pick up some supplies. The lovely Glyn stood in a centre aisle with a trolley I am told (I was on the boat) whilst the rest of them ran around the store packing it high with this and that, with David's sister in particular buying out of season fruits, and other impossible things. They took so long over this that we beat them home.

And then there is the village of Varages itself. The Potter's house that we stayed in was so named for the pottery which had been in the village since 1695 but was imminently in danger of being closed. The mayor of the village, in protest was currently on a hunger strike to prevent this. Which he must have done because it seems to have survived until February 2025, but was revived again in July of that year. Above is the pottery they make - just simple tableware, nothing amazing, but somehow very French, but nevertheless it obviously meant a huge amount to the little community - probably many of them were employed there.

As a sort of coda to this we were also very fortunate to be there at the time of some kind of annual festival in which the local band of drummers, and some of the young men of the village dressed up in costume from that era and paraded through the streets to the Mairie where the mayor emerged from his house to make a speech. Their old muskets were fired into the air - very noisy - and a good time was had by all. Everything being followed by a boules tournament with rival villages and a fair in the square outside our house. We were blessed to have been there that particular week, but somehow or other this kind of thing happens often on our trips - but then I guess it's summer and tourist season. Magical none the less, because of the simultaneous haphazard amateur nature of it all - some of the village women told us proudly that they had made the costumes - and the perfection of the whole event. One could see that this was a truly communal effort with everyone from the smallest child to the oldest granny joining in.

Alas those days are long gone and two of those lovely people too, and it is easy to take a sad view of it all - never again and all that - or as Horace back in Ancient Roman times famously said:

"Carpe diem! Rejoice while you are alive; enjoy the day; live life to the fullest; make the most of what you have. It is later than you think."

I think I prefer Albert Einstein's - "Learn from yesterday, live for today."

And what do I learn - that maintaining friendships, no matter how intermittently, is vital to happiness. That joy can be found in little things, and stray events - and perhaps most of all good food in suprising places. That we must thank whoever it was who invented photographs, so that we can keep joyous memories alive, even if tinged with sadness. Keep smiling perhaps. Plan a trip?

THE FRIDGE THING

In abeyance, as yesterday was a fasting day for me - and I guessed right - David did not eat the leftover pasta for dinner so I am about to go and eat it for my lunch today. Tonight - it's the leftover kataifi's turn - perhaps a pie with ham, onions and cheese. Not good for my diet - my fasting result was not good - well I had just come out of the overeating, overdrinking Christmas/New Year thing - but I'm hoping it will be delicious. So another fast this week and a couple more walks should fix it - after the looming 40 degree days.

YEARS GONE BY

January 6 - and a picture of the City library in Malmö Sweden in my desk calendar (A Year in Books) - near where one of my long ago ancestors came from. Lots of glass, open space and light in this one. You could also say lots of wasted space that could be used for more books, but space and light are balm to the soul don't you think? Like books. Particularly in a country like Sweden which spends half of the year in the dark - well almost.

And today is Twelfth Night. If you still have Christmas decorations up - take them down or you will have a year of bad luck and no happy days.

2025 - Nothing

2024 - Salmon and pesto

2023 - Twelfth Night

2022 - Tidying my desk

2021 - Missing

2020 - Why are plates round?

2019 - Nyonya food

2018 - My first grapes of the year

2017 - Gratin Dauphinois