Bikes don't always stay upright

HI Everyone,

Well, lots more to blog about beautiful Burgundy (Bourgoune), but we are now sitting in the Scottish Highlands with so much more to talk about, so these blogs will no longer be in any order. We'll get back to France and England and Scotland, but we have a tale that must be told first.

Charlie planned a C-to-C bicycle ride across England, from the Irish Sea at Whitehaven on the west coast to the North Sea at Tynemouth, near Newcastle on the east coast of England. In this area, it's about 145 miles from coast to coast with some nasty, steep mountains right in the middle. The ride started on Aug 12th and Charlie had 2 glorious days of cycling from the coast, over the mountains (the steepest and toughest he's done to date) and into Newcastle, as scheduled, on day 3. With 9 miles to go until the finish, Charlie's cycling mate overlapped wheels with Charlie and a crash followed. Charlie went down hard onto the quay at Newcastle, bracing himself on the fall with his hands and knees. Covered in blood from facial contusions, he still thought he could finish the ride (sigh). Fortunately, a lady living in the condo adjacent to the quay heard the crash and came to their assistance. On this sunny Sunday afternoon, she tossed bloody Charlie and his mate into her car, secured their bikes in her garage, and drove them to the hospital. The UK national health system (NHS) kicked into high gear, cleaning his wounds, x-raying his hands and setting his broken bones. Oh yes, the cuts on the face, knees and shoulder were nothing compared to the severely dislocated left ring finger and the broken bone in the right hand.

And where was I during all this? Well, my friend Libby and I were 3 hours away watching Libby's horse, Uncle Keef (remember him?) race at Pontifrac, a major flats course south of York. Our plan was to pick up Charlie about 7 pm in Penrith after his ride. That is, until I got a text from him about 2 pm that said, "Crashed, broke at least 2 fingers, need to be picked up in Newcastle. Sorry" !!!!!

Somehow, Libby managed to get us there in about 2 hours! We met Charlie at the Queen Victory Infirmary at Newcastle Hospital where he looked dreadful, and wonderful at the same time! His dislocated finger had been re-set, his right hand was in a cast and he had dressings everywhere else. All the other details of returning the bike, getting his kit, etc. had been handled by his riding buddy, Magnus and his good samaritan. He was very fortunate.

The next day, we took him to York Hospital Orthopedics, where he was again x-rayed, received a new cast, had all of his dressings changed and was treated very professionally and compassionately --- and with no waiting. And we were not charged a cent, either in Newcastle or York. We kept trying to pay, but were told that we were guests in the UK and they were so sorry this had happened, but no payment was required. Amazing.

Downside: Charlie can't ride for some time. Ergo, we are compensating by taking lengthy death marches....er, walks, around the Scottish Highlands - rain or shine. I'm smiling - yes, I really am!

Actually, the scenery is beautiful and the weather hasn't been too bad. We did get a bit doused yesterday, but it was only water and we only had about a mile to go.

Charlie is feeling a lot better, his face has healed very nicely and he is looking forward to getting back on his bike as soon as possible. We are very thankful the crash happened in a large city with good medical care and not in the wilds of the Pennines. And we were blessed with the help of strangers and especially our dear friend Libby. Yep, could have been a lot worse.

More to come on France and Scotland as we continue our amazing adventure. Just hoping those of you in Irene's path are safe and weather her well.

Love to all,
Lari

France is so…French!

Vive la France!

Yes, we all have preconceived notions about the French…you know, Freedom Fries and all that nonsense. Well, after 2 weeks of strolling through Paris, cruising the Burgundy canals and visiting the heart of the Cote d’Or, I now believe some of these notions are true.

For example:

All French food is fabulous, except the stranger dishes like Tete de Veau (head of veal, literally).

Young French men and women are gorgeous. Yes, she's a lock keeper!!!!

No one makes bread like the French, or pan au chocolat, or desserts.

Croissants are just a vehicle to get the yummy French butter into your arteries.

No French citizen speaks English until you try to speak French to them, then all French citizens speak English – “a lee-tull”.

It doesn’t matter how many customers are in the shop at closing time, the shop closes anyway, often shooing out potential buyers.

France is closed from 12-2pm for lunch – the entire country. I’m not kidding.

“Eeez not poss-ee-bull” is heard often, even if it “Eeez poss-ee-bull”. Being persistent in a nice way almost always works to make things "poss-ee-bull".

French people can be helpful, friendly and even happier than their US counterparts, but you’d never know it on first glance. You must first pass the inevitable “evaluation” the French seem to give everyone on first encounter. If you pass, France is yours for the taking. Passing is usually as easy as a smile and bon jour, but occasionally a bit more complicated. See “Eeez not poss-ee-bull”.

French wine from Burgundy is far better than we thought, but nothing tops the sparkling Cremant, especially when mixed with cassis for a sparkling Kir du Cremant (Kir Royale) or the smoky, unique Ratafia. All made in Burgundy.

The French countryside is a living postcard, full of quaint villages perched on hillsides, dazzling green fields, pastures dotted with Charolais or sheep, vineyards, rivers and ancient churches and cathedrals.

French roads are excellent, well maintained and well marked.

Wine from one plot selling for as much as 15,000 Euros a bottle simply cannot be THAT much better than the wine on the next plot that sells for 30 Euros, Terroir or no Terroir.

You can find anything and everything at the French Tourist Offices - they are helpful, friendly, well equipped and online....can this be France?

Our Cruise through Burgundy on the Canal du Nivernaise

July 29, 2011

Our cruise on the Yonne River and Canal du Nivernais began today as we were introduced to our Penachette, a boat specially designed for the French canals. She is 9.5 M long, draws mere inches and, while basic, has more than enough comforts for the week-long cruise. Oh yes, her name.....are you sitting down?.....Larrey! I am convinced that's just the French spelling of Lari, as you know they always have lots of extra letters in their words that they don't bother using!

I'll write more on the journey and the wonderful villages, towns and sights along the river and canal in a couple of days when we return to England. For now, here are some photos.


The peaceful, unhurried journey was filled with postcard images like this one.

Locking through the first of 64 locks along the journey

Breakfast aboard on our first full day. Last night we pounded metal stakes in the ground along the river and tied up to the bank. The night was moonless so the stars were incredibly brilliant out here in the French countryside. The only sounds - oh wait, there weren't any sounds!!! It's unbelievably quiet after all the birds and animals go to sleep.







Known for its tender beef, the distinctive white Charolais cattle graze all along the canal. Once in awhile they would lift their head and stare at us, as if to say, "You'd better not order the Boeuf Bourgogne."









Chateaux, quaint villages and centuries-old towns share the river and canal banks with miles of verdant pasture, thriving fields and thick forests.
My next blogs will take you to the ancient town of Auxerre, the Caves of Bailley, and explore the canal itself complete with its lock keepers of every description and personality. One wonderful quirk on the French canals - they close from 12-1 pm every day for lunch. No one should be in a hurry here, and the French understand the meaning of work to live, not live to work!
Au revoir for now,
Lari

Vive la France!

July 27, 2011

Hi Again!

Where to begin! We arrived in France this afternoon from Majorca, after a wonderful 2 week holiday of sun, fun, exploring, bike rides, wine, food, friends and relaxation.

After an admittedly typical discount airline experience (Easy Jet, with a blessed empty middle seat, but a long delay in both Palma and again in Paris – due to a security breach at our gate?????), we finally got off the plane about 45 minutes after taxiing to the gate at Charles de Gaulle international, then waited another hour for the luggage. The 45 min. bus ride into Paris and the 45 min. walk to our hotel – yes we should have gotten a taxi, especially since it started raining – meant we arrived at 9 pm. Fortunately, we dumped our luggage in the room and went to dinner at a lovely restaurant close to the hotel for a fabulous meal that more than made up for the long travel day. My confit du canard and Charlie’s saumon au citron, along with crème brulee and gateaux glace for dessert, and a perfect bottle of St. Emilion certainly absolved a lot of traveling woes!

Our lovely hotel is minutes from the Champs Elyseey and is surrounded by streets full of designer showrooms and shops. Name a designer, any designer and the shop is here anxious to help you part with your treasure. Amazing shop windows are now etched with my “oh so lady like drool”.

We strolled along the Seine, took a wonderful river cruise from the Eiffel Tower past the heart of Paris and her beautiful monuments and structures, around Notre Dame and under numerous bridges, each more beautiful and historic. The day turned to evening (the sun sets about 9:30 pm) as we strolled through the Jardin du Tuilleries, past the Louvre and across the Pont Neuf bridge – with its open iron grillwork sides hung with thousands of padlocks engraved with couples’ names professing their love (oh, so Paree) – to the Ile de St Louis for dinner along the Seine. I forced myself to order Escargots, then Steak Tartare – two really good reasons to come to Paris. Charlie devoured a whole grilled sea bass. Okay, yes, we also had dessert – Ile flotante, chocolat mousse, café, and another spectacular bottle of wine – of course. We took a taxi home!

Next day we were up and out early for our train to Joigny, in the Burgundy “departmente” and to meet our canal boat, armed with a bag of fresh pan au chocolat and croissants. Not sure if it’s a blessing or a curse that there are no scales here, but I am having a bit of trouble seeing my feet these days! Hmmm.

My next blog will share our wonderful canal boat journey on the Yonne River and Canal du Nivernais.

Au revoir!

Sun and Sea Send Us on Our Way

Hi All,

Well, here I sit on our adorable canal boat moored at Chatel-Censoir, halfway through our Canal du Nivernais journey and I’m wondering: WHY DOESN’T EVERYONE DO THIS….EVERY SUMMER????

Yep, we’re having a great time. Our two regrets are: 1) we can’t drink or eat enough in 10 days to make a dent in the wonderful food and wine from the Burgundy region, and 2), we can’t bring any of it home. I am thinking of throwing away clothes, and may still do that to make room for wine. I won't be able to fit in these much longer anyway!

But I digress, as usual.

I haven’t even finished blogging about our time in Majorca yet. Our Majorcan holiday just kept getting better. The weather remained perfect – not too hot or humid, just perfectly sunny yet cool in the evening. So of course, we spent lots of time soaking up the sun and relaxing. We both read about 6 books each, a rare treat that shouldn’t be so rare!

Charlie continued to ride several miles each day, usually around 35-50. His longest was about 70 miles, with lots of elevation. In fact, during our 2 weeks in Majorca, he rode over 400 miles and his total elevation was 18,000 feet. Man, that’s a lot of up and down.

Once Richard arrived, Charlie took him on a really fun, and challenging, ride along the coast, then met Robyn, the boys and me at a great beach café at the very end of Alcudia that specializes in local seafood. We had hoped to swim in the cove and catch some rays while waiting for the guys to arrive, but the wind picked up to about Force 3 so we abandoned that idea and took a long walk – uphill of course.

When the two cyclists finally arrived, intact but not too happy with the wind, we ordered a platter of assorted seafood that I cannot begin to describe, but can say that even though I grew up in Florida, with a father who was an avid fisherman, I have never tasted fresh fish as good as the three fish that were on this platter. No, don’t ask me what they were, because none of us recognized the Spanish names the waiter told us. Can you tell from the photo?

It was quite a day, and we ended it on the roof terrace of Robyn & Richard’s condo with another outstanding bottle of Spanish red as we watched the moon rise over the Mediterranean.

Two days later, Robyn’s sister Alex, her husband Dan and their three children – Linus, 7, Tilda, 5, and Daisy, 3, arrived from France, where they now live. We hadn’t seen Alex since Robyn’s wedding in 1993 and had never met Dan, so it was a great treat for us to spend time with them and get to know Dan and the kids.

Our last full day of fun there was spent on a powerboat Richard rented to take us to Formentor and two other very small coves along the rugged mountainous coast of the Baha de Pollenca. The water is crystal clear and a deep azure blue that becomes a brilliant aqua closer to shore where we anchored. Although a little cooler than the Gulf of Mexico, the swimming was refreshing and exhilarating.

All five kids are part fish and spent the entire day jumping in and out of the boat, snorkeling, swimming to shore and generally getting that shriveled “prune” look. We ended the day with huge pans of paella on the roof terrace. Does life get much better?

We must say that leaving the next day was quite a struggle, Majorca is a magic place and enjoying it with people we love makes it very special indeed.

But it's off to France and another adventure. Say, does anybody know if the food and wine is good in France????

Richard and Charlie, or is that Stevie Van Zandt?

Photos of Majorcan Wineries

Here are the photos of our trip to the Majorcan wineries in Binissalem. I think I have finally found a bottle of wine I won't be able to finish in one evening! Anyone want to help?









At the C'an Novell winery, you can bring your own bottles and fill them directly from these huge casks made from olive wood and oak. The 4 liter bottles in buckets (so they are easier to carry) cost 6 euros, with 4 euros returned when you bring the bottle and bucket back for a refill! Okay!








The cellar master didn't want to be photographed, but took our picture in front of the vats to show the massiveness of these wine casks. Note the hose which leads to the spigot where you fill your bottles. Oh yeah, I'm relocating!

More photos from Majorca. Can you guess the theme?

Hope this makes you hungry and thirsty!





A small selection of Spanish wines in the supermercado....note the prices, some as low as 2.35 euros, and we bought wines for 1 euro and they were awesome. I might be relocating!













Hundreds of legs of jamon in the supermercado.


Olives of every description, along with garlic, anchovies, capers and cornichons are available at the farmers' markets in Pollenca and Port a Pollenca each week. Did I mention relocating??










This picturesque fellow is the head butcher at the farmers' market. He selects and slices the huge legs of jamon and suggests the best sobrasessa, a local sausage made only in Majorca. Never argue with a guy who looks like this and wields a really, really big knife!













Beautiful fruits and vegetables grown on local farms fill the markets. We really enjoyed the variety and the intense flavors of the grapes, tomatoes, melons, herbs and peaches. I'll be sending my new address......

Photos from Majorca

Oliver, Robyn and Elliot Millman with Charlie on the beach at Port de Pollensa.






















Charlie carving our Jamon de Serrano. Note the special holder just for these huge legs of ham.


The Roman ruins at Alcudia from about 80 BC.















Cape Formentor at the end of the Baha de Pollenca. Charlie cycled out to this famous landmark over several steep hills and serpentine curves. Awesome!

Land of Olives, Wine and Marcona Almonds

The weekly farmers’ markets follow a circuit around the island, with the largest in our part of Majorca on Sunday in Pollenca and Wednesday in Port de Pollenca. The markets are usually set up in the main plaza of the town, often in the shadow of the church.

While fresh fruit and vegetables are a main draw, the market abounds in olives of every variety, nuts – the Marcona almonds are the best -, jamon y queso, and crafts and merchandise ranging from clothing and jewelry to Majorcan leather goods.

We’ve had a great time sampling a variety of hams and sausages made from Majorca’s famous black pigs. The jamon is cut fresh from the leg by the butcher for you, and its flavor depends on what the pigs were fed. The most expensive jamon can run as high as $150/kilo. We didn’t try that one!

With tourist season at a peak, the markets are jammed by 11 a.m., so we go early, then stop at a beachside café for zuma de naranja (fresh squeezed OJ) when the hoards arrive.

Speaking of the tourists, Majorca suffered from major overbuilding and lack of oversight for 3 decades, resulting in a plethora of hotels, tourist holiday resorts, and questionably built condos surrounded by tourist shops, restaurants and bars. Picture South Beach or Myrtle Beach on steroids. About 10 years ago, a change of government brought more control over building and a structured plan for growth. The recession helped slow development as well, although we certainly don’t see any signs of it now with the crowds that line the beach and fill the restaurants every day. The majority of tourists are British, German and Spanish, resulting in an amalgam of languages and menu offerings. Majorcans speak a unique form of Spanish called Mallorquin Catalan, which is quite different from the Spanish we’re used to. But most everyone in the tourist areas speaks English at some level, so we manage to communicate quite well.

Yesterday, Charlie and I took a drive to Binissalem, which is the heart of Majorcan wine production. The climate in Es Pla, the plain in the center of the island, is ideal for vineyards and the Majorcan reds are superb. With 95% of Majorcan wines consumed on the island, there is virtually no export market, so we are trying to enjoy as much as we can while here. ;-)

We stopped first at Jose Ferrer, a traditional winery, with tours and tasting room. Our next stop was memorable. In a warehouse on a narrow street near the church, Ca’n Novell is the only winery left on the island that still sells its wine a granel, which is straight from huge olive wood vats into whatever container you provide.

I discovered it is frowned upon, however, to lie under the tap with an open mouth!

In case you forget your container, there are stacks of 3-liter jugs set in buckets for easy carrying that can be purchased for 6 Euros, with 3 Euros refunded when you return the jug! We tasted the wine and it is outstanding, made with a blend of Manto Negro, Fogoneu and Callet grapes, all native to Majorca. The vats, pictured below, are olive wood ringed in a native oak and hold about 4000 liters each!

Charlie and I have often said we’ve never had a bad Spanish red, but when you can buy 3 liters for 3 Euros and it’s outstanding, well what more is there to say except “Cheers”.

Richard, Robyn’s husband, arrives tomorrow; then on Saturday, Robyn’s sister, Alex and her husband and three children arrive from their home in southern France. With 5 children in the flat, Robyn has wisely found us a separate flat in her complex so we can enjoy some “quiet time” whenever needed. We’re here until July 28^th, then off to France and our canal boat trip through Burgundy.

Stay tuned! Gracias for reading!

PS: Sorry, for some reason I am unable to add photos at this time, I'll try to send in a separate blog.

I am a very frustrated blogger!!!

Majorca – Island of Olives, Beaches, Tourists and Exquisite Scenery

Hola,

It’s been way too long since I wrote a blog, actually an entire country ago. No excuses, just having too much fun to sit at the Internet café and write, but guilt has taken hold, so here I am. I’m writing this at our lovely flat in Los Palmitos in Port de Pollenca on the north coast of the island of Majorca. When I get to the café, I’ll connect and blog this, so look for the photos which will all be grouped at the bottom, unless I figure out how to move them around.

Okay, nuts and bolts done.

Charlie and I have always loved Spain – the people, the food, the scenery, the culture and just about everything else…especially the wine! This is our third visit to Majorca, which lies 150 miles southeast of Barcelona and is the largest of the Balearic Islands. Now a major tourist destination for the rest of Europe, Majorca has a history that dates back 8000 years. Once a major Roman stronghold – see the photo of Roman ruins below – Majorca’s strategic position in the Mediterranean has led to its being conquered numerous times by everyone from the Phoenicians to Franco.

We arrived in Palma, the island’s largest city, drove across the island to Port de Pollenca and were in the pool within 2 hours of arrival! With Robyn and her sons, Oliver and Elliot, we’ve walked, swam, fished, shopped, read lots of books in the sun, eaten lovely fresh fruits and veggies from the weekly farmer’s market, found excellent Spanish reds for as low as 1 Euro (about $1.45), carved our own leg of jamon de Serrano, discovered fabulous Majorcan cheeses and enjoyed perfect weather.

Charlie has cycled over 300 miles around the island, which is quite mountainous and full of narrow, winding roads. He has conquered two of the toughest routes already, and is planning tomorrow’s ride as I write. Majorca is a training base for the Tour de France, so he was able to rent a bike as good as his and find excellent support, maps and advice from the local bike shop, whose mechanic used to be with Lance Armstrong’s team.

The other day, Charlie and I toured the old town of Alcudia, which is still partly surrounded by the 800 year old walls and moat and is adjacent to the Roman ruins from 80 BC. The old town is filled with narrow sandstone streets, intriguing casas hidden behind wooden shutters and excellent cafes serving Majorcan specialties like pa amb oli, frit mallorqui and paella catalana. We felt at times as if we were on a movie set and half expected to see armored noblemen on Arabian horses ride through the city gates.

I am always amazed at the depth and breadth of the history and culture we find on our trips abroad. Just imagining how many people have walked into this town through these gates, and through the Roman city before that, is a bit mind boggling. Seems as if Majorca has always been a desired destination!

My next installment will explore the local farmers’ markets and Majorcan wine country.

Adios!

Riding in all kinds of ways

July 8, 2011

Okay all, we are trying the blog again-with photos.......er, maybe.

So it's Tuesday a.m. and I'm up at 5 am (yes, you non-believers, I can do it, I really can...besides, it's light at 4:30 a.m until 10:30 p.m. these days). So anyway, up with the birds and out the door by 6 a.m. - ON TIME! The drive from Yearsley to Upper Lambourn, where Libby's new horse lives and trains, is a combination of motorways (freeway), secondary roads and winding country lanes. We pass through York, Sheffield, Nottingham (yes, there was a sign for Robin Hood World), Derby, Leicester, Coventry and finally, Oxford as we traversed a good part of the country from north to south. Leaving the larger roads at Oxford, we began to see the gentle rolling hills of the thoroughbred district, very reminiscent of the Kentucky bluegrass country.


There are scores of stables and horse farms here, and Libby's is run by an ex-jockey who has won the national Sweepstakes - equivalent to our Triple Crown. Brendan greets us and soon we are being introduced to Uncle Keef (which I suggest we nickname UK). He's a large, beautiful horse who shows great potential. We drive up to the hilly fields to watch UK do his first ever "gallops" along the rails that run for miles through these lovely hills.

Well worth the early rising to see this! And the look on my usually very reserved British friend's face can only be described as intense joy, enormous pride and great relief. UK is a winner already.

As the "crazy American", I am entitled to ask a zillion questions about every aspect of training and racing; the other horses, whom I meet and am nuzzled by; the various kinds of competition - flats, jumps, dressage, show, and everything else I can think of. We have tea, then watch UK play for the very first time in the paddock yard. He's like a little child, showing wonder and curiosity at everything - including the drain, the neighboring horse and the dirt which he tries to roll in but isn't sure what to do when he gets himself down, so he pops back up again looking mystified.

On left, Jack, one of the stable boys, Libby, UK, Brendan and I. Hope to see more of these shots with Brendan, Libby and a big trophy sitting where I am. We bid a reluctant farewell and head north, with a stop for lunch and some high-end shopping near Bicester (pronounced Bisster). It began to rain about halfway home, so the weather was certainly on our side.

Charlie, in the meantime, was doing a leisurely 26 mile ride with Pete and his riding friends near Weatherby, which included some good hills and a mid morning stop for tea or coffee and cake, an early afternoon stop for a pub lunch of a pint and a pie, and a mid afternoon stop for tea. Certainly NOT his usual hard charging bike ride. But enjoyable and beautiful. He stayed with Pete & Val and they went for a fish & chips dinner. I do believe the calories out did not wipe out the calories in on this particular day.

The next day though, he made up for it by riding from Pete's to Libby's - about 35 miles in and out of rain showers. We met him for tea about halfway, then watched him pedal away past pastures full of sheep and sleepy English villages.

On Wednesday, we had a tour of St. Peter's, Oliver's boarding school - not quite Hogwarts, but not too far from the images we Yanks have of English boarding schools. All the students properly dressed in blazers and school ties but racing around like mad as it was the next to last day of the term.

We're back at Robyn's now until we leave for Majorca on Monday. Tonight we're out to an Indian Curry House, where I'm sure their version of mild will still be way hotter than I can tolerate.

Hope this arrives with photos....it took longer than expected to do, but at least I know how now....I think. Hope I don't forget by next time!

With hugs to all,
Lari & Charlie

Funny, there's no 4th of July Celebration here!!!!

July 3, 2011

Hi Everyone,

This is my first shot at the European blog, having forgotten everything I learned from the Lebanon blog, so bear with me. Yes, the bears are with me….but I digress.

We arrived safe and sound after your typical overcrowded transatlantic red-eye flight from Atlanta. I will comment on two things – the food was absolutely abysmal on the Delta flight. It’s almost as if they planned it that way, I mean how can anyone make a green salad taste like paper???? And the flight attendants really must have jumped out the rear emergency exit after take off, as we never saw them again until they literally threw our icy cold ?egg? muffins at us about 45 min. before we landed.

Oh well, we arrived, the bags arrived and the UK border officials waited until the next day to go on strike, so all in all, it was a “great” flight.

We were greeted by our beautiful English daughter, Robyn, and some sunny, but cool weather. Arrived at Marsdengate House, their 250 year old home perched in the center of incredibly green pastures, and began to remember how nice it is not to be in humidity!

The past week has been filled with end of term school activities for Robyn and Richard’s younger son, Elliot; excursions to town to shop, get e-mail set-up; cook some delicious dinners, and just enjoy being with our extended family here.

Yesterday we hiked along a roaring river to an old mill, then had a very posh dinner at an “upmarket” restaurant where R&R had celebrated their 40^th birthdays about 3 years ago. Since we couldn’t get over for the big party, they wanted to take us to the restaurant so we could have our personal celebration. So sweet!

Tomorrow, as most of you celebrate the 4^th of July, we will be having just another work/school day (yep, the kids go to school until July 7!!!). Charlie will be doing a day-long bike ride with Robyn’s uncle, Peter and I’ll be hanging out with Libby, Robyn’s mom who some of you met when she visited us last Christmas.

Today was brilliant – warm, sunny, dry. We all sat outside in shorts and read the Sunday Times! Tonight, Richard and I have cooked a huge Lebanese feast – he’s a great cook – which we will destroy in about 30 minutes.

That’s it for now, just wanted to set this up and send you all the blog address – lariandcharlieineurope@blogspot.com

Bye for now,

Lari