EEEEEEkkkkkk its November – and you know what that means – but we are not going to mention the ‘C’ word. Not once – not at least until December – lets not drag it out and ruin all the magic so we are all ‘C’d out before it has even started pleeeeeze?

Right so November in France – what’s that like?  Actually just as lovely – yes the temperature has dropped a few degrees, and the leaves are falling in abundance off the trees and the vines oh gosh the vines are glorious. The number of times I have nearly driven off the road as I turn my head to admire the stunning tapestry of colours that feast the eyes. Reds, golds, burnt oranges, and yellows against a still blue sky – wow those grape plants sure provide us with entertainment for a long time!

And even the Flamingos are here to add more colour to the scenery – stunning and to get so close!!

A marvelous find in our recent weeks was a stunning gorge not very far from us. The Gorges the Galamus proved to be a very exciting drive and the sparkling river which seemed hundreds of metres below us was attracting lots of water sports fanatics, particularly canyoning. We decided to try and walk down to the river but got waylaid by a ‘Ermitage’ on the way down. (A one man show!) and despite our reservations about anything too religious couldn’t help but be overwhelmed by the stunning chapel that had been built into the side of the rock.

Just goes to show that you don’t need to come here in the summer to see and do wondrous things!

But for me November represents Bonfire Night. Not a tradition celebrated in France for obvious reasons (but they do give us July 14^th so all is forgiven!)

During my childhood we used to always host huge firework parties, everyone used to contribute the fireworks and my Mum would make mugs of oxtail soup and jacket potatoes with sausages and baked beans. When I grew up and moved to the big city I would religiously go to Battersea Park, wrapped up warm, eating hot chestnuts, inhaling the huge bonfire smell and oohing and ahhhing at the wondrous firework display. However, as an homage to Guy Fawkes night we hold a bonfire party. We smoke our pulled pork and shake a few sparklers around,( no fireworks as we have a dog)  our French friends think we are crazy but nothing that a few glasses of mulled wine doesn’t cure.