Wednesday, August 05, 2015

Fragments of France

(I began this fragment back in July, intending to contrast it with mornings spent England later in the trip.  The passage of quiet days in those respective countrysides apparently lulled me into forgetfulness.) 

Slow quiet simmering days book-ended by strong coffee and delicate rosé.  The morning was the only time that the heat was down.  Evening too I suppose, but by then I was too wilted to do much.

In France at the height of summer I was reminded once again of how civilized daylight savings time is, in that you can arise at a reasonably late hour when the day is still cool, and in the evening enjoy long meals outdoors as the clock ticks toward double-digits.  My frustration built once again at the  stubborn refusal of Japan to adopt it, forcing us all indoors at the peak of our energy, until four a.m. rolls around, and we find ourselves yet again awake in a pool of our own sweat.

In that villa above the village of La Môle, the days passed in near carbon copies of each other.  As is my usual habit, I'd still rise with the sun, but here that usually meant around seven.  LYL would need another hour or so of sleep, so I'd pass the time with a book and a cup out on the terrace, until I'd go back inside to wake her.  

On the turntable: "Cafe del Mar, Vol. 9"

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