The wild coast of Bohemia

The new place is going to be brilliant for the cats - terraced gardens below for them to look at, and birds, birds, birds everywhere. I just hope they don't learn to hunt, fortunately they've never been very talented at that.

This afternoon, we got all that was planned done by five - brilliant! - and when I opened the French doors once I finished unpacking the books (well the fraction of them that I felt I would tackle today) all I could hear was angelically beautiful singing. It was either someone playing arias on CD OR it could perhaps have been from the Benedictine convent, who will practically be neighbours. If so, then my goodness, they are pretty impressive. Apparently we are allowed to go to services there. I am sort of tempted as it's supposed to be wonderful. Whatever, at some point I have to go knock on the door and warn them that our cats may visit, as the roof connects with theirs and knowing our cats, a whole convent to explore will be just tooooooo tempting.

Three good things so far today:

1. I managed finally to get to the French Patisserie here and it's wonderful - had a nice chat with the chef/owner who is from Frejus. The kitchen is open to the cafe and watching him work is magical. I bought the MOST elaborate little cake to bring home - a supper treat (oh heavens, that means two cakes in one day as of course I had one there - okay, maybe for tomorrow then).

2. I found light bulbs that actually fit my stupid but very lovely "egg lights". I bought these years ago in a design shop in Shad Thames in London - in the days when I was a "des-SIG-ner" as a friend used to put it - and realised later that it's almost impossible to get bulbs to fit the things. So much for "design" (I really don't admire design that is actually just about style). Anyway, I found something called a pygmy bulb today that fits. For the first time in six years I can now switch the things on. They cast a very soft, nice light, I will give them that.

3. I arrived at the new flat to find the lady upstairs had left me two tea-towels, beautifully washed, ironed, individually packed in bags and then into another bag and hung on our front door. These towels had been hung outside our French windows a fortnight ago by the owner's cleaners and I'd noticed that they'd fallen down into the garden below, but couldn't at that stage (before we had the key) retrieve them. Thank goodness for a neighbour who seems considerate, sweet and domestic. Good-bye Brit stag parties, hello Czech house-fraus.

Now, all I have to worry about is the little, very tame female blackbird who has built her nest - gulp - outside our new front door. I need to have a serious talk to the cats about which birds are out of bounds.