It’s Monday, and depending on what time of the day you get around to reading this, I’m either:
- On the Promenade d’Anglais, trying to be more happy that I’m just about still in Nice than I am depressed about having to go home to rainy, grey and cold Ireland in a matter of hours. A grand cafe creme is undoubtedly involved.
- Somewhere in the skies between Nice and Dublin, drinking a €3.50 cup of instant coffee in a cramped seat.
- In a bus somewhere between Dublin and Cork, feeling the last positive feelings brought on by six weeks on the Cote D’Azur slipping slowly away…
I’ve spent the last month and a bit in Nice, France, renting a holiday apartment and working on writing stuff. (Just like F. Scott Fitzgerald did once upon a time, but unfortunately I couldn’t afford L’Hotel Beau Rivage.) It was a great idea, if I do say so myself. It’s the off-season, so the apartment was reasonably cheap, and as I can easily get through the day on a couple of coffees at made-for-people-watching cafes and some yummy things from one of the five bakeries within five minutes walk of the apartment, and since museums and parks here—not to mention my favorite past time, reading on the beach—are all free, I didn’t quite have to become the starving artist.
(Although I could’ve done with it…)
This week will be mostly spent trying to transfer my writing routine back to my little room, with people around all the time and the OVERWHELMING TEMPTATION of Sky Plus. My sister looked after it for me while I was away, so I have around 36 hours of TV to catch up on. At least. I may have to skip some sleep…
(And don’t worry: I told her to stop recording The X-Factor ages ago. I was following your tweets, so I figured out it was in TV toilet.)
Therefore this blog will be quiet for a few days, but normal service will resume next Monday. If you want some sunshine this Monday morning, check out my jealous-making photos above.