Carpe Diem

Debrah has decided to come out for the weekend and arrives tomorrow, or is that later today, not being sure when this blog will hit the world wide airwaves. Whatever, I can't wait for her to arrive at 'L'aeroport de le Pays Cathars' or Carcassonne as it is more usually referred to, at lunchtime.

We are going straight from the airport to 'Le Parc' - a Michelin starred restaurant opened a couple of years ago by the head chef from the restaurant at 'La Hotel de la Cite' who decided to branch out on his own. His old restaurant still has a Michelin star and now his new one does as well. We have thought about going there a few times but never really got round to it - it looked a bit austere - but it has been recommended and we are going to check it out for ourselves, which is, of course, the only way to gauge the quality of anything.

The recommendation came from Lesa, my estate agent friend (Aussie background, knows everyone and more, husband in the CRS, who would shoot you without hesitation if he thought you had touched his wife!).

Even allowing for that slightly scary scenario, Lesa and her new business partner, Yannick, came round to look at the apartments this week and to discuss the whole French property thing. Naturally, in stereotypical fashion, Yannick was very reserved and shoulder shrugging and Lesa was very enthusiastic and over the top in true Aussie style - she used the word 'gorgeous' more often than my daughter, Isabel, which is saying something. Lesa seems to know everyone in town and so could be a useful contact and she liked what we are doing here with the apartments and with our plans for the place, which is great. We need to work out how we can use her particular skills and knowledge to best effect for us. I get the impression that she likes to take her 'cut' on any deal, which is no problem at all, if it is merited. I'm sure we will work something out.

Whilst 'the genius' is away progress is slow on the renovation but I have managed to remove a ton of rubbish and rubble from the studio and have been steadily making progress with the sanding of the walls as my very aching shoulders will testify.

And, last night, the Thursday evening music club (not an official title) was meeting at a bar called Carpe Diem. It's a nice little place, with an excellent selection of wines by the glass and bottle (and, whisper it, not just French wines) as well as a tasty sounding tapas menu which I must try out sometime.

The music group is in fact the same misfits as the saturday lunch crew, just with guitars in hand, except for a couple of notable exceptions. Rob, a Dutchman who trades in old books and now runs his own shop in Montolieu, knows how to play and really can sing - it was good to see him again and I must visit him in his shop sometime as I, once again, promised to do. There were also two ladies, a mother and daughter, who sang the most beautiful harmonies together - very haunting, very moving. I couldn't work out their background or define the music style - it had something of a Portuguese fado about it, but could also have been North African or gypsy (I was later told that they were from Georgia in Eastern Europe) - but, whatever, everyone in the bar sat silently, mesmerised by their beautiful voices. I can still hear them now and I'd pay to listen to them again.