We have French neighbours, a lovely, outgoing couple whom we know extremely well. And while we’re back at our apartment, having a ‘siesta’, they’re entertaining another French couple for lunch.
The differences between the French and British approach to eating could not be more stark!
While we nibble on sandwiches, our neighbours cook a full meal, and then occupy themselves with conversation and a bottle of wine for a couple of hours.
Our children have collapsed into their beds, exhausted by the heat, so it has been time to enjoy a little time on the balcony, drinking in the marvellous smells that our neighbours conjure up daily.
The quarter on the neighbouring balcony are all in their 60s, and I admit I was a little surprised by the visiting wife’s tattoos.
Normally, one wouldn’t readily associate tattoos with older women.