FROM RIVIERA WOMAN TO GUERNSEY GIRL.
For a few days last week, I swapped being a Riviera Woman for a return to Guernsey Girl.
Prior to living on the Cote D’Azur, I lived on Guernsey for eight years and loved the island dearly. I am happiest living by the sea and to be a mermaid stuck on an 24 square miles rock was mostly a joy. To walk along deserted beaches, to see sunrise and sunset, to sit having scones and cream in beach cafes and to sip wine with friends on terasses overlooking St Peter Port harbour was something so pleasurable and that money just can’t buy.
It took me a while to settle into the pace of island life, manyana if not tomorrow, to the fact that most islanders had only two degrees of separation at most rather than the usual six. I had to get used to being fogbound for hours, if not days at the airport whilst supposed to be at meetings or seeing my partner in England. Life was at the vagaries of the weather, I soon learned that no planes meant no newspapers, and during one particularly long spell of storms when the boats didn’t make it across the Channel either, there was no fresh food in Marks & Spencer.
To return recently was a step back in time. The speed limit is 35 mph and you’re very lucky to reach that. Can you imagine me coming to drive in and around Monaco? Contemplating the autoroutes took a lot of courage, not to mention colourful language.
Instead of designer boutiques, there are ‘hedge veg’ stalls down the little country lanes. If someone has a surplus of vegetables, fruit, flowers, eggs, home-made jams or even, to the delight of my children, ‘gee gee poo’, they sell at the roadside and you leave your money in a cashbox or even a bowl. Sadly tho’ now the idea of a trust bowl is being abused by opportunist thieves.
The locals are renowned for their deadpan philosophy of life and overhearing a conversation in a charity shop reminded me of their homespun logic. A customer was bemoaning to her friend that the bargain pair of shoes she wanted were not in her size. Her friend consoled her that ‘at least she had her feet’. A little more of the flavour of Guernsey can be found in the book review on ‘The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society'
I returned to mainland France and managed to squeeze in a trip to the Ardeche. Such a contrast from the buzzing Riviera.
Sometimes, I too, forget just how lucky I am, especially to be able to return to the magical Cote D’Azur. To come home and see the wonderful exhibition on Diaghilev and The Ballets Russes at Villa Sauber was a privilege.
To visit with the most lovely Riviera Woman Lucy and the tiny, exquisite Riviera Baby, India Rose, reminded me that no matter where in the world, women together, bring and share so much joy.
May it ever continue…
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