A Long Weekend in France


If you thought this post might be about my mini break to the south of France last weekend, then you'd be right. You clever thing, you. 
I was a bit worried that writing this would make me sound like a bragging twat that often poodles off to the SOF (dahhling) for weekend breaks drinking wine and eating amazing food in celeb hot spots. I don't. But last weekend, I did and it was bloody great. Sorry not sorry.

I flew alone on the Thursday night as Matt went in the morning and I couldn't get the day off work (tragic). Typically, I turned up about four hours before my flight because I have an irrational fear of missing flights (or because I legit could not afford to buy another one if I missed it, lol), so I busied myself, as one does, with drinking Prosecco and eating a 'share sized' board of cheesy bruschetta. Must stop seeing the word 'share' on menus as a challenge. 

By the time I was due to head to my gate it's fair to say I was a bit sozzled and quite excited at the prospect of a complimentary G&T on the flight. Unfortunately it was about two hours late so all I was excited about by the time we got off the ground was a slightly-drunken nap. 

Anyway, boring story over, I got there in the end. The next morning we got up and headed into Valbonne to the weekly market. Alongside fabrics, jewellery and shoes were also countless cheeses that had me like a kid at Christmas. Probably the most creamy gorgonzola I've ever tasted. I'm actually sad that it's not in my mouth right now. Cry.











Naturally we also had lunch in La Colombe d'Or, which is our favourite restaurant in the area. It's on top of a hill in a little town called St Paul-de-Vence, which has some pretty special views if you're up there on a sunny day. 

The menu there hasn't changed in years, but as they say: 'if it ain't broke, don't fix it!'. I had the same as I always do - Melon and ham to start (sounds weird, but totally works) and piece de boeuf for main. Sooo delicious. The weather was nice enough to eat outside, and we were told by our waiter that Julia Roberts had eaten there only the day before. Ironic as we watched Notting Hill that day during an afternoon thunderstorm! 







Aside from drinking too much Rose wine and eating my bodyweight in cheese, the sun had his hat on for long enough to have a sunbathe and dip in the pool. I'm still the colour of Casper the friendly ghost but I'm hoping our next holiday to Greece in will sort that out. Which reminds me, still haven't sorted that summer bod... brb eating leaves until then.


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