Jan, clearly remorseful about the terrible lunch the other day, and now humbled by last night's feast, serves up bacon and tomato butties for breakfast. I knew some good would come from all this.
But then she shouts at me, because she wants to know what I want packing. In the good old days, I always used to pack for myself, but I've turned into such a scruff now, that Jan insists that she knows what I will be wearing (a good little ruse for all my male friends).
I never tire of the trip down to Barcelona. It's an interesting drive along the coastal plain of Languedoc, but more of all this when I post on our return in a few days time.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment