As former teachers, travel in term time feels like a guilty secret, not to be shared in case anyone notices; a real treat. Quite apart from the obvious advantage of reduced prices for flights, there are other joys: not fighting with 3000 cars and attendant travellers in the Eurotunnel terminal at Folkestone, empty autoroutes whilst driving through France, quicker passport checking etc. Since giving up the day job, it has been a delight and a privilege to be able to indulge in our love of travelling ‘out of season’.

A recent trip to New York confirmed what we already knew; it is an incredible, vibrant city, worth visiting and re-visiting to remind oneself of what it has to offer. Children #2 and #3 came with us – their first time – and our enjoyment was doubled by re-experiencing it through their eyes. I quickly remembered the feeling of walking through a film set every time you step out onto the streets, and the smell – yes, there is a distinct aroma to the place. People who have been to India often comment on the unique smell that it has and how they will never forget it, but for me, I experience it in NY too, be it the coffee/café aroma, freshly baked bagels or pizza, piss stained scaffolding supporting great building works on high-rise buildings, scotch soaked jazz and blues clubs… We ate incredible food and relatively cheaply too, my favourite meal being in a Mexican restaurant that could only seat 8 and that was 2 minutes walk from where we were staying in the East Village – simple, spicy dishes that reminded me how much I love black beans! We drank craft beers in a bar just around the corner from our AirBnB, which had a really chilled vibe and obviously walked and walked and walked around the spectacular streets, enjoying the sites and the people. As Arnie said – ‘I’ll be back’!

We have also returned to the south of France, on the coast between Marseille and Toulon. For me, the south of France is like an old friend, with its warmth, familiarity and foibles. The unexpected highlight this time was an unplanned stop in the Ardèche, in Vallon Pont d’Arc, an hour or so off the motorway and very much in ‘end of season’ mode. Windswept squares, the obligatory beautiful old church at the top of the town, dingy-looking bars, chairs and tables stubbornly placed out in front despite the increasingly inclement weather… We ate in a restaurant the menu of which proved that it is not only the English who struggle with a foreign language at times….seiche at the persillade (a translation of seiche à la persillade) was one of the ‘entries’ and was followed by trout with butler butter ( truite beurre maître d’hôtel), accompanied by fried house (frites maison)…I rest my case!

Flaubert,the 19th century French novelist said of travel that it makes you understand ‘what a tiny place you occupy in the world’, which is why I love travelling and will continue to do so. In answer to my question in the title,therefore and to misquote Didi and Gogo’s famous refrain from Waiting for Godot: ‘Shall we go?’ ‘We can’!

Eating: As autumn begins to take hold, a warming stew – Moroccan chickpea, squash & cavolo nero, recipe from BBC Good Food. The lemony feta and crushed toasted fennel seeds on top are a lovely twist.

Drinking: I love a hearty Spanish red, especially at this time of year and the above Rioja style wine certainly hits the mark. Sourced from Virgin wines.

Listening to: In my search for the sort of music that I prefer when cooking and to add to my all time favourite Zero 7, I have come across a band called Blue States. I am especially enjoying their 2016 album, Restless Spheres, though my current favourite is Season Song, from their 2003 album, Man Mountain.

One of the happy by-products of our move is that we have accidentally facilitated a job opportunity for child#1. As is common for the many graduates flooding the job market, it had been an attritional process to gain employment relevant to both his degree and chosen career path. Hundreds (literally) of application forms, many with no acknowledgement/reply, several interviews (many by Skype or phone, with follow-up face-to-face), lots of cancelled interviews, all the time working in sundry bars/restaurants to keep the money coming in and the cv ticking over. Finally success and a job which, whilst it is not quite what he wanted, is a pretty good match…. and not being London based has really helped.

Environmental management doesn’t sound very exciting, but managing with birds of prey is a very different beast – pun intended! When we first heard that we were to have two new additions to the household, we were excited. I had to google Harris hawk as I had not heard of them before. The family became very excited about whether we could name them and what we should consequently call them. The writer her indoors started the ball rolling with Thelma and Louise, if they were both female. What ensued was a typical range of increasingly unsuitable names: Stan and Ollie for two males, Peters and Lee for one of each (me showing my age), Jake and Elwood (one of my favourite films), Jacqueline and Elwoodina if they were female, Pam and Mick (family reference to possibly the greatest comedy show ever written – Gavin and Stacey), Lenin and Trotsky, Ken and Barbie, Starsky and Hutch, Theresa and Jeremy, Mac and Cheese etc… We settled on the two Ronnies, so they wouldn’t be upset if we couldn’t differentiate between the two! Disappointingly, they arrived already named…

They live in the garden, housed in weatherings and live on chicks and quails, though the discussion of feeding habits is discouraged when we are eating! Child #1 flies them to help manage environments in the south-west, ranging from factory rooves, cathedrals, hospitals and even a rugby club. The most fun, however, has been had with discussing the’ birds’ as it just sounds so 70s… ‘I’m just going out with my birds’, ‘the birds are in the van’, ‘I’m just going to grease their jesses’, ‘I’m taking my birds to the coast today’… cue theme music from The Sweeney, whilst I go and fire up the Granada!

Eating: It is the time of year for hearty weekend breakfasts in our household, so this Shakshuka, recipe from BBC Good Food, certainly hits the spot. I added spinach with the eggs and served with avocado.

Drinking: The red above, a supermarket wine from France – very dark fruits, full bodied and totally appropriate for this time of year.

Listening to: Child #2 suggested Jorja Smith to me and, once I was over my rant about spelling names ‘properly’ I tried. However, the first songs to which I listened reminded me of one of my favourite albums of yesteryear – A Little Deeper, from 2002, the debut album by Ms Dynamite, so I retreated into that. Favourite tracks: Put him out and Brother.

Simply defined as: ‘feelings of unhappiness and anxiety that some people experience often when they are between 40 and 50 years old’. Urban dictionary.com adds an element of psychology, but ignores the age criteria (and a sense of correct usage of English): ‘When a person regrets how they have lived his or her life, and they attempt to ‘correct’ their mental issue in a variety of ways which usually always harms themselves or those closest to them.’ Wikipedia picks up both on the age element as well as the psychological aspects and develops them further: ‘a transition of identity and self-confidence that can occur in middle-aged individuals, typically 45–64 years old. The phenomenon is described as a psychological crisis brought about by events that highlight a person’s growing age, inevitable mortality, and possibly shortcomings of accomplishments in life. This may produce feelings of depression, remorse, and anxiety, or the desire to achieve youthfulness or make drastic changes to their current lifestyle.’

I’m sure I am not the only person who wonders which of the things they do might be perceived as a mid-life crisis. I feel I have avoided some of the obvious ones: I had an MG in my 20s, so don’t need one now; I have not joined a gym to work towards a ‘sculpted’ body. I do have quite a long list though, which I think might fall into this category…..giving up my job, moving to the country, joining a whisky drinking society, being determinedly sociable (rather than the pro solitude person I was before we moved), starting dancing lessons, learning the guitar, entering a marathon, and I am in the relevant age category….is my list evidence of ‘engagement’ or am I just kidding myself?

Of the above, I am most enjoying preparing to run a marathon. Prompted by child #3, who has said she’ll run it with me, we have chosen a course which is downhill to start, then flat – sounds ideal! I have given myself plenty of time to train for it – let’s face it, I do have the time- and have started building up slowly. What I enjoy most is the mental battle, convincing myself that I can go on for a further kilometre, that I can run the next kilometre faster than the previous one, or just that I should get out of bed and run even though I don’t feel like it. I run with music, an eclectic range of styles and artists. I also use a running App, which tells me how far I have run, my average pace and logs the history of all my runs. Best of all, running legitimises any aches and pains I might have…

Running is a hobby with which I am increasingly obsessed.. ask the partners of any runners and they will have tales of how running has impacted on their relationship….So, on reflection-and I have had plenty of time to reflect whilst meandering along country lanes-, I don’t feel that giving up my job and moving to the country are midlife crisis moments. They have facilitated new adventures and new experiences, a different way of being and doing- and have given me ample time to run… I can thoroughly recommend it….. I’m off to battle with the three meter wide tractors that fill the otherwise quiet roads, dead badgers which line the ditches and see if I can run faster than the caterpillars that run on the roads at this time of year!

Eating: We recently had friends over for lunch, so I thought I’d try a tarte à l’oignon. I based this on the Guardian series of ‘how to make the perfect…’ and then tweaked it slightly. I served it with lardon sprinkles for the meat eaters. The slowly cooked kilo of onions make this an absolute delight!

Drinking: Keeping to the French theme, we paired the tarte à l’oignon with a bone dry cider, served nice and cold- complemented the sweetness of the tart.

Listening to: BADBADNOTGOOD, a Canadian band from Toronto. Child #2, knowing I like prefer something relatively chilled to listen to when cooking, put me on to them. Currently listening to the album IV. Favourite tracks ‘Speaking Gently‘ and ‘Chompy’s Paradise‘.

Our village has entered the ‘village in bloom’ competition and as part of that we have entered the ‘doorstep challenge’. A reminder came through on the village Facebook page that judging was imminent. Responding to the ante having been seriously upped by our fellow village people, we ‘sorted’ pots and a colour scheme with which we were happy over a month ago. However, the combination of hanging basket (too dry) and some of the larger pots (too wet) meant that a ‘rethink’ was required. Luckily the ‘writer her in the garden”s creative juices were flowing; judicious pruning and replanting followed a redesign involving some freshly painted bricks and tea cup/milk jug and the ‘storm in a tea cup’ show was ready. We await the results of the judging, happy in the knowledge that for 48 hours, our doorstep looked fabulous!

Additional preparations for the judging meant that several residents gathered last weekend to ‘tidy up the village’. A remarkably heartwarming couple of hours sweeping, weeding, strimming and generally titivating the main street was combined with chatting both to new friends and people I hadn’t met previously and drinking coffee provided by the pub. The strength of collective action, community coming together cannot be underestimated, even on this small scale. The village in bloom marking criteria credit this sort of community action as much as the floral elements one would expect. Whilst it would be lovely for the village to win some sort of recognition in the competition, for me, as a relatively new resident, I feel like we have won already…

Eating: Brown bread ice cream and strawberries, with extra toasted sprinkles. Breadcrumbs toasted with some dark brown sugar to caramelise prior to adding to the custard and churning.

Drinking: I matched the above ice cream with this Sicilian white, which has fruit and floral notes with a herbal edge, and a lovely streak of acidity that makes it mouth-wateringly moreish.

Listening to: Child #3 put us on to an american series called ‘This is us’. To say emotional rollercoaster would be to understate. I am listening to the soundtrack from series 1. It has a really interesting variety of artists, many very well known (Dire Straits, Van Morrison, Stevie Wonder) and others less so… Current favourites are: Sam Cooke – Bring it on home to me, Brian Tyree Henry – We can always come back to this, Janileigh Cohen – Blues run the game.

As always, since retiring from teaching, life has been busy- yes the cliché is true! Parent #1 has just celebrated a significant birthday, child #2 has just graduated from university and child #3 has just passed her driving test – a set of events that have concentrated my mind on the passing of time. Age has also been to the fore in recent sporting events: Ivo Karlovic v Feliciano Lopez at the 2019 French tennis grand slam – combined age 77, the oldest in the professional era; Coco Gauff, 15, currently wowing Wimbledon; five teams at the women’s world cup fielded 17 year olds and one had a player in her 40s. Youth has also been present on the world stage with Greta Thunberg’s climate change ‘movement’.

It is a critical time of year for many young people, be it leaving school for the world of work or university, graduating from college/university courses and seeking the next challenge. As a former teacher, I have so much respect for the young of today who, in my experience, are an impressive, interesting, creative and dynamic generation. They will have been hearing ‘inspirational’ words of wisdom from teachers, lecturers and parents as they move on…’go out and change the world….don’t be afraid to make mistakes…actions speak louder than words, so…be young men and women of conscience, competence and compassion….go out and thrill the world’ etc… The best advice I have heard though, which applies to any of us whatever age we are is: ‘be happy living your best life’.

Eating: Given the current warm spell, salads have been on my mind, but with child#1 working full time and ‘needing’ a filling meal, I found a recipe for an avocado salad which ticked all the boxes…the sweet potato (roasted in cumin) giving it ‘heft’, the seed sprinkle ‘texture’, the green beans ‘freshness’, the feta ‘saltiness’ and the honey and soy dressing a nice ‘kick’. Recipe from March edition of Veggie magazine.

Drinking: Rosé for me is the wine to drink when the weather is warm enough, but finding one that has enough about it to match with spicier food can be difficult, especially if you want it dry (and I do!). The above, sourced from Virgin wines, ticked all the right boxes.

Listening to: Promenade by Niall Kelly. I was prompted to listen to this by a friend with whom I used to work – it is a great listen, especially when cooking. Favourite track at the moment is The letter.

Since our return from France,there have been a plethora of adverts for festivals amongst the now verdant hedgerows – more jazz and folk music than you can shake the proverbial (drum)stick at. So what would our first one be like? An unpromising start – meeting in a run-down car park at the back of town, clouds menacing overhead accompanied by a stiff breeze, was brightened by the cheery greetings from our party and the appearance of flower garlands for hats and heads. What followed was a solar powered boat trip on the river; ‘motley’ would be the best word to describe the crew, or perhaps ‘eccentric’ or rather ‘interesting’. Gliding along the stream peacefully, we were treated to a very different view of familiar countryside. Next step of the trip was a carriage, drawn by a pair of Suffolk Punch horses; travelling through the country lanes to the festival ground, past the semi-derelict abbey, we delighted in holding up the traffic as the world clip-clopped by.

The festival itself had a couple of excellent beer tents, selling local brews of various colours and strengths – the local cider was at 6.5%, so needed to be nursed rather! There was a range of interesting and unusual food on offer; burgers, yes, but also some very good Indian samosas and pakora, alongside a dumpling stall, local cheeses, freshly baked breads and pastries – plenty for all tastes. The centrepiece was the scything competition: men, women and children of all ages and sizes wielding their scythes with more or less skill and precision. The resultant piles of freshly cut grass provided an excellent playground for kids, as well as for some who had been enjoying their cider! Toilets as ever provided a talking point – the eco urinals (think bed of straw) for both men and women were somewhat reluctantly frequented! Displays of thatching, wood turning and willow weaving were informative and led with an infectious enthusiasm by stallholders and we were tempted by the range of local handcrafts – leather goods, pottery, glass etc. Two music tents provided an eclectic mix of folk, rockabilly and jazz to keep the punters happy, especially the free-spirited, bare-footed expressionist dancers, channeling their inner Isadora Duncan.

So a memorable and magical day and our decision to say ‘yes’, to get involved with our community paid off. Am I losing touch with my cosmopolitan, liberal elite London roots? No, but the day we had certainly sells the country experience in style.

Eating: Inspired by the presentation of the starter we had at a restaurant in France, which they called ‘cagette apéro’, my own take on it – basil oil, slow roast tomatoes, red onion chutney and rustic oat and treacle soda bread, which accompanied Sweet potato and goat’s cheese frittata – recipe from Skye Gyngell.

Drinking: The above, a really good accompaniment for the goat’s cheese frittata, sourced from Virgin Wines – an aromatic white, which I love really chilled. Still part of my ‘not Sav blanc’ efforts.

Listening to: Inspired by a band we listened to at the festival, called Such Sweet Thunder, presumably after the Duke Ellington song, Spotify (other streaming services are available!) search came up with a playlist of the same name. Favourite songs: Hiding by Breakstra and Bei Mir Bist Du Schön by Dick Hyman.

It was an absolute delight to return to our ‘house in the country’, but boy have things moved on. The garden has flourished, by which I mean that the grass has grown ridiculously along with weeds in the beds that I thought were under control. But more seriously, many villagers have upped the ante significantly in the race to win the village in bloom ‘doorstep challenge’. Tired, shabby window boxes are now bursting with vibrants yellow and reds. Pots by front doors are neatly planted with thoughtful arrays of flowers, ready for perfection later next month. Newly hung hanging baskets drip with the promise of exciting displays. The village green has even sprouted a front door, reminding us all of the critical judging date. Time for action.

Luckily parent #2 has stayed for a couple of days; not often I say that but she is a ‘gardener’, so was very helpful. Having perused the wilderness, a trip to the garden centre with our very own Kitty Lloyd Jones was on the cards. Mindful that flat surfaces, frequent stops and coffee are all essentials for a trip out, I was nervous, but needn’t have worried. In her enthusiasm to help, all thoughts of slow walking, using a walking stick or needing to sit at any point were banished in a haze of blue roses, trailing fuchsias, black tomato plants and busy lizzies. A hard afternoon of planting followed, supervised by a sleeping parent on a sunbed!

Hoping to find additional inspiration, we have visited our first major country show – the Bath and West. What a joy! Loved the food and drink tent, (though tasting so many different gins before 10.30 might have been a mistake) replete with local producers of everything from sausage rolls, flapjacks and cider to garlic, scotch eggs, chillies and anchovies. Loved the array of stands selling anything from firepits and jacuzzis to toys, essential ‘country’ wear and tractors. Loved the (mainly horsey) events – pony carriage driving a particular favourite. Honey tasting, engineering stands, kids sitting on forklifts – a bit of everything. I came away with a real sense that, as much as anything else, the show served a ‘public information’ service, informing and educating attendees, ensuring that key issues and traditions are alive in the minds of the next generation. As a former teacher, I doff my tweed flat cap to all concerned.

Eating: Salmon en croûte, recipe courtesy of Gordon Ramsey, though I added a little spinach to the filling, as I had some that needed using up! The wholegrain mustard was a great ingredient. Served with local asparagus, crushed lemony new potatoes and hollandaise.

Drinking: Or rather ‘prinking’ the above with Prosecco in the early evening sun in the garden. It is made with leftover gin-soaked raspberries – not too sweet, so an ideal ‘Kir royale’ style aperitif.

Listening to: Moby – Play. He’s been in the news recently, which reminded me that I used to love this album. To many favourite tracks, but probably ‘Why does my heart feel…’ or ‘Run on’ if I had to choose.

Many years ago we spent a summer holiday in Wales – Cardigan Bay. One of my abiding memories is that, despite the weather being very British, all the activities were on offer come rain or more rain. France in May with indifferent spring temperatures can’t cope in quite the same way. Saturday evening, normally so busy around the vieux port in La Ciotat, is relatively empty and for 2 hours we are the only people in the restaurant- rows of empty tables and chairs are a sorry and rather sad sight.

So we have moved away from the coast and reminded ourselves that Provence, and especially the départements of theVar and the Vaucluse, has an abundance of ridiculously pretty villages perched improbably on hillsides, totally hidden until you turn a corner. Many are overshadowed by sheer rock faces – I say overshadowed, my initial thought was ‘threatened’ (the writer her indoors’ was ‘protected’) – note to self, check out possible psychological interpretations of these differing views… We have sipped cafés au lait in a variety of market squares; a re-assurance of the French way of life. We have driven through the countryside evoked by Cézanne and Pagnol, past fields filled with poppies and other wild flowers worthy of paintings by both Monet and Renoir, flora and fauna that feed the multitude of wild birds we have seen, but bizarely only one magpie at any time…

Braving the stiff breeze back at our local Sunday market, it was interesting to see pamphleteers from a range of political parties out in force prior to the vote this coming week. The major political parties were all represented. Being the south, there was a disproportionate ‘Le Pen’ presence and several party enthusiasts pushing ‘Frexit’ (for which there are posters splashed all over the area). There was much heated debate, a certain amount of ignorance and many leaflets on the floor by the end of the day.

I think it fair to say that the incomprehension of the ‘unusual’ weather and inability to cope with its implications reflect France’s unease at the political situation. Let’s hope that the single magpies we keep seeing aren’t an omen for the results to come and that the voice douce is more than symptomatic of where Europe is now and France and the UK in particular…

Eating: Can’t be by the coast in France without some mussels. Malaise strikes here too as the previously ubiquitous moules marinières are not to be found. We had the above instead, in a restaurant in La Ciotat, La tête d’ail, and it is their speciality. Moules à l’éclade, pommes de terre sautées – mussels cooked and smoked with pine needles – delicious for a night that wasn’t as warm as it should have been!

Drinking: Obviously more rosé – can’t get away from the stuff down here, so it would be rude not to! The above was eminently quaffable, yet with enough character to manage the smoked mussels.

Listening to: Given the vagaries of our internet access here, as well as a phone that is ‘having a moment’, we have been listening to son #2’s go to revision music, as he revises for finals – Bach Cello suites Nos 1,5 and 6… I am discovering a love of the deep and re-assuring sound of the cello.

We are lucky enough to be travelling for two weeks on holiday, mainly in the south of France, so a rather different flavour to my post this week…. Firstly, and apologies to all who are unable to travel in school term time, how great is it to be able to do so! Eurotunnel was a breeze and the autoroutes were pretty empty too. Two stop-offs on the way down – the first in Reims – great cathedral, strange vibe in town, disappointing hotel – the second in St Antoine l’Abbaye, one of the villages named in the Guardian recently amongst the top 20 prettiest villages in France, with a spectacular drive out through the Drôme. It was, however, very difficult to find somewhere to eat in the evening. I know I shouldn’t be, but I am still constantly surprised how difficult it can be to find a restaurant/café/bistro that will serve you – in a country that prides itself as the gastronomic centre of the world. I would add that the quality of meals is also very variable – I have eaten much better food regularly in Spain, Italy, Greece, cheaper and served with a smile and a graciousness that has to be earned in la belle France.

There is another side to this coin, however. What they do have in abundance here in the south are markets selling local produce, les marchés paysans or du terroir. It has been a delight meandering through streets vibrant with colours and odours – saucissons secs, cheeses, fruit, veg and fish etc. Very few bargains to be found, but some of the best strawberries and tomatoes I have tasted in a long time – we also found some delicious swordfish, a brique de brebis (ewe’s cheese that was fresh as….) and some local honey – Miel de Garrigues, infused with aromas of rosemary and thyme…. Morning purchases lead to happy lunchtime and evening eating!

Eating: Amongst other things….Fresh salads, such as sheep’s cheese, walnuts and honey (the writer had this in her mind as a must), fresh fish sautéd in oil/butter and garlic, olives and ratatouille…and too much warm baguette!

Drinking: Too much as usual, but enjoying plenty of local rosé. This one was very dry and went down a treat with the ‘planche de tapas’ we ordered, which included chorizo cookies, a tuna and cream cheese dip, marinaded red peppers, a courgette and goat’s cheese cake and a cumin and chick pea tart – apologies for the rather poor quality photo…

Listening to: An audiobook, for the first time in a long time – The Hoarder, by Jess Kidd. We’re about half way through and loving it!

It exercises my father greatly that I have retired from teaching and that I therefore no longer have a ‘job’. Visits will always sooner or later (but mainly sooner), contain questions about my plans…for work. I don’t know whether I should feel embarrassed by the answers I give, such as ‘I’m spending more time cooking’ which, I know, do not cut the mustard (see what I did there?). I had the same sense of embarrassment when meeting up with former colleagues recently; I heard myself saying ‘I’ve been really busy’ when they are all still working full time, in stressful jobs. So, does something have to change?

The writer her indoors is not in the same position. She is busying herself with a play and is enthused by a new idea of adapting it for the Edinburgh Fringe 2020. In addition to this, and as per the recent article on the BBC website about creativity, she is also ‘up cycling’ furniture in the house. So I need to be busy for the next time I meet my father…

Busy learning the guitar – I know, not hugely impressive but something I have always wanted to do. Child #3 is a self-taught player, thanks to the internet, so surely I can learn too? Guitar bought – same colour as the Aga, tuner ordered, an old Taylor Swift guitar pick found on child #’s floor and away I go – can’t do F yet, but working on C and Am!

Busy planting in the garden – seed potatoes (slightly late, but should be ok still), lettuces (so need some slug pellets that won’t harm pampered pooch) and kale hitherto… much more to plant still, once I have cleared the weeds….

Busy organising all the recipes I have pulled out of magazines, printed off the internet, acquired from friends. I need a system to deal with the pages stashed in drawers and sagging in the magazine rack…

When I was teaching, September, the start of the new academic year, was the time for new resolutions and for change…. My resolutions start here!

Charred courgette and pesto tart – recipe from Katy Beskow. Lovely warm spring evening supper! I made the pesto with sunflower seeds, rather than the almonds suggested, as child #1 is nut allergic.

Drinking: 2018 Spanish Verdejo from Virgin wines – still on the hunt for my preferred Sav blanc alternative.

Listening to: The soundtrack to the writer her indoors’ childhood. A chance playing of Theme from a Summer Place by Percy Faith and his orchestra, started us both on a voyage of ‘rediscovery’, including Sergio Mendes’ Mais Que Nada, Afrikaan Beat by Bert Kaempfert and Bésame Mucho by Ray Conniff. Personal favourites from our new playlist are: Playas Somnolientas by Johnny Pearson and his orchestra and A certain smile by Johnny Mathis.