Home again

IT'S GOOD to be home. It's wonderful to have all one's little comforts welcoming you back. I sometimes think that the only good reason for going away is the return, and of picking up the pieces of one's life left so rudely behind.



It has been a good holiday, although not totally without incident. The flight out to Perpignan is the usual horror, compounded by the fact that my back problems have not fully settled. Two hours squashed into the confines of a tight, narrow seat does nothing to ease my discomfort. Moreover, I'm feeling unusually claustrophobic, but this proves to be the onset of a rather bad cold which puts a blight on our first week's stay.



The place itself is pleasant enough, a comfortable, spacious gite, on the edge of a tiny village in the foothills of the Pyrenees, and with a magnificent view of "dog's tooth" mountain, Canigou. In fact, we come to think of this mountain as our third significant other, "Monsieur Canigou" - so vast is he, so great his influence, that he has a weather system all his own. When I get up in the morning, I greet My Good Lady (MGL), and then step out onto the terrace and say "Bonjour, M'sieur C", just to keep him happy and placated.

The scenery is, in fact, one of great features of the area. But the whole place is awash with artists old and new. This is, after all, the stomping ground of the likes of Matisse and Picasso, Braque and Derain, Chagall and Max Jacob; the villages of Collioure and Ceret can boast galleries and museums with collections (donated by the artists themselves) that many a capitol city could envy. No shortage of culture for us, then. Nor is there any lack of contemporary beards and pony-tails, nor of tourist-trap art shops charging ridiculous prices for distinctly mediocre work. And of course, the inevitable bijou cafes catering to visitors and locals alike. In parts it's a bit like the Lake District in England - very beautiful, no question, but also very, very touristy.

Perhaps the thing that impresses us most, though, is the Catalan people who we find to be generous, warmly humorous and very independent in spirit. It's the only part of France we've visited where the locals actually take pride in speaking English. We get a feeling that their first language is Catalan, even more than French. MGL and I get along with them great, although I'm sad to say we don't meet anyone with whom we form anything but a superficial relationship.

It was a good holiday for us - MGL and me and (I'm sure) M. Canigou - but like I said, it's great to be home again.