Dinners at the Beach

I'd heard about the legendary dinners at the beach. On my last visit, I was lucky enough to go twice. Henny, Hans and Christa, with various other friends, have been making this a tradition for some time. Hans said, I'm not eating sand in my food, so they do it in real style. Tables, chairs, linens, real plates, candles, and a big cooler filled with the delicious wines from Domaine Bourdic, Hans and Christa's vineyard.

Hans, Henny, Christa and Alex setting up

We arrive after 6pm when most of the traffic is heading in the opposite direction. They have it down to a science, choosing a spot where you can drive right up to unload the cars. The brave have a swim first. It's been an odd summer in the Languedoc as it has been throughout Europe. The sea was bracing, but almost manageable after the initial shock.

We set up the dining area to the appreciation of puzzled onlookers who nod and say bon appétit. Don't use the word picnic, this is dining al fresco. Everyone brings a dish, there are several courses. We eat, drink, laugh, have great conversations in French, German, a little English and the odd bit of Dutch, while the sun sets. Divine.

Last time Henny, Christa and I were brave enough to try the sea again after dinner, in the shimmering light of an almost full moon. We screamed like demented school girls, but it was fantastic and completely exhilarating!

Cactus to Go

There were 3 giant prickly pear cactus installations in the garden. Now there are two. I got really tired of pulling their spines out of my flesh when accidently brushing past. So the challenge one hot afternoon: me vs. the cactus in the walled garden. I ripped it apart with my double-gloved hands and brute force. All my considerable weight was put into wrenching it from the earth and when bits of it came loose, I went flying in the other direction, accompanied by cod operatic yelps that must have been puzzling to L&A's guests sunning themselves at the pool below.

Here's a Before picture, but that ain't the half of it!


The roots were so pervasive that when they were yanked, stone tiles popped up on the paths 8 feet away, sort of like a mini-movie earthquake special effect .

Here it is, lined up for disposal, bagged into 6 heavy duty 25 kg sacks with the big trunk on top. Cactus takeaway, anyone?

I'm almost never happier than when we make a trip to the déchetterie. There are so many eyesores in and around my house, that when I actually get rid of something, it feels like a triumph. I know, how sad am I? But look, here's the cactus in Henny's car about to make its final journey. Tee hee hee.