13th March 2016

Frank Sinatra sang It's so nice to go travelling. Judy Garland sang Over the rainbow....
When I wrote Pensioners in Paradis I told of the joys of moving to France. Oh the sunshine, le bien manger and la qualite de la lumiere. And it was all those things and more. But, 11 years later I'm older and wiser.  In all that time it's been like a wonderful, extended holiday, enjoying all the material things of life.  But, what of the immaterial, the spiritual, the inner contentment, the feeling of home? Gradually, petit a petit, I've felt a growing feeling of loneliness, and a strong feeling that people were visiting for the place rather than to see us. We've met some nice French people over the years but somehow there's been a lack. We've been living in a tiny, English bubble in the middle of a foreign land. But once recognised, how on earth to correct it? UK property prices were all against us, Bruno's still (at 13) fighting fit and certainly couldn't live in a flat. Well, at last I've found somewhere where bungalow prices are low and, a stroke of luck, if we sell our house and large back garden separately - the land price here in Gaillac is much sought after - it's just enough. So, yes we're on the market. Watch this space as the saga unfolds.
.........but it's so much nicer to go home.

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