We're safely back in France in our original home port of Golfe-Juan. I've already taken myself off to Cannes for a little look around and maybe I stopped by the famous Laduree and had a salted caramel macaron (or two, maybe three, who's counting?). I got this strange feeling of being "home" as we were coming into the port, I suppose I did spend the better half of last year in this area. I absolutely love the Cote d'Azur, I love France and all it's pretty, yummy goodness. The crossing from Mallorca was an absolute dream, we spent the days catching yellow fin tuna (I pulled one in myself. I did NOT, however, spear it in the head and haul it over the side of the boat, or gut it, which Franco says is the most important bit, whatever. Evidence to the right). We caught five in total (two of them being well over 20kgs) and decided to call it a day at that, every single freezer and fridge on the boat was absolutely packed with slabs of fresh tuna. Needless to say, we ate tuna for two days straight, cooked in every way imaginable. We drank the guest's leftover champagne, we suntanned, I read (a lot), we spotted two enormous fin whales, we saw dolphins, we watched the sun set, and rise. The sea was calm and the sky was filled with stars each night, a really beautiful end to the season. We have until the end of the week in this port and then off to Sanremo in Italy for the final week and then... THEN, I'm flying to Kenya, doing an overland trip down Africa and seeing my friends and family who I haven't seen in almost two years, I couldn't be happier. Well, I guess I could, if I had the foresight to bring at least another three (read thirteen) Laduree macarons home with me to eat in bed while I play on my pretty new laptop and wear my cosy new pj pants. Sigh. Why must everything good be bad for you. Except pomegranates, and mangos, they're good and they're good FOR you (WAY better than world-famous French macarons, like way WAY better, said no one... EVER)
Bonne nuit, mon petits
