My birthday in France

Hello, and welcome to the second part of my September travelogue. 

For those of you who are new here, we've been spending a week in September in a cottage on the outskirts of Poperinge since our first visit back in 2012, when we fell in love with this picturesque part of Belgium, sandwiched between the French border and the North Sea coast.

Now, let me take you back to Thursday the 10th of September. In spite of the fact that the sun had once again taken centre stage, we got off to a very slow start that morning, eventually dragging ourselves out of bed when it was well on its way to 9 am. By the time we'd showered, got dressed and had a leisurely breakfast, the morning was well advanced, so that it would have been too late to go on an outing of any length before lunch.

So we decided to stay local and drive down to Poperinge, all of 10 minutes away by car.

We were, after all, on a mission! 

As Jos had gained a bit of weight courtesy of the cortisone-like medication he has been prescribed, he was no longer comfortable wearing a belt and had been toying with the idea of buying himself a pair of braces instead.

It so happens that for many a year we'd been admiring the display of braces in the window of a Poperinge shop, marvelling at their choice of fun designs. So, with that in mind, it goes without saying that no other shop would do!

We'd walked past the shop in question on our way to the Hop Museum on Wednesday, only to find that it was their closing day. Therefore our first port of call on that lazy Thursday morning was a no-brainer!

I'm sure you can imagine our disappointment at finding the shop closed once more. It was then that we saw the note pinned next to the one with the opening hours, proclaiming that they were closed for annual holidays. As they would be re-opening on Friday we had one final chance, even if it would disrupt our plans for that day.

Our consolation prize consisted in huge cups of cappuccino on the terrace of La Poupée, arguably the most popular of the establishments on Poperinge's Market Place.

This was followed by a quick visit to St-Bertinus church, Poperinge's main church and at the same time its oldest, the current building dating back to 1420. Here, we admired the  modern stained glass windows (1980) designed by Arno Brys (°1928). 

In honour of the upcoming hop festival, the church was decorated with hop bines, while carved wooden hop bells can be spotted in the church's rood screen.

After lunch and a short siesta back at the cottage, we decided to go for a short walk. Our destination of choice was the park beloning to De Lovie, a domain complete with Neoclassical castle, managed by a charitable organisation which supports children, young people and adults with mental disabilities.

Here another minor disappointment awaited as the castle turned out to be covered in scaffolding.

Not to be deterred, our little walk took us to the outskirts of the domain and the charming little garden called The Six Senses. On our way back, we rested our feet for a while inside a chapel dedicated to St. Theresa. 

Miss Sunshine decided to play hide-and-seek with the clouds on Friday, leaving us with a mostly grey and mizzly day. 

We'd made plans for the afternoon, but obviously we needed to continue with our mission of buying Jos a pair of braces from that shop in Poperinge first.

It was nothing short of a relief to finally find the shop open. After some dithering, Jos's choice fell on the green pair on the left. We later went back for the red pair on the right. Don't worry, you'll get to see him wearing the green pair shortly.

Our afternoon outing took us across the border into France for the first time that week. 

Only a 20-minute drive along country lanes from our cottage, our chosen destination was the Conservatoire Botanique National de Bailleul, a 25-hectare natural and educational site located in northern France, dedicated to the study and preservation of regional and European flora.

It might have been only a short drive but it was definitely a bumpy one, the final stretch being on a severely pot-holed lane. 

When, according to our Satnav, we were only a couple of minutes from our destination, we hadn't even clocked that we'd crossed the border! We were about to admit defeat and consider ourselves lost when I finally spotted a peeling sign half-hidden by an overgrown hedge. 

It started raining lightly the minute we stepped out of our car, so we grabbed our umbrellas and walked into the direction of the deserted ticket office. It turned out that the gardens were deserted as well: we had the 25-hectare site completely to ourselves!

The site contains two separate gardens, the smaller of the two being the Jardin des Plantes Médicinales (Medicinal Plant Garden), which showcases roughly 500 species of medicinal plants from across Europe.

The larger one, the Jardin des Plantes Sauvages (Wild Plant Garden) has around 1000 plant species across 64 themed plots and various reconstructed natural ecosystems, including dunes, chalk grasslands, meadows, heathland, peat bogs, and ponds.

Both had greatly suffered from the succession of heatwaves, but there was still more than enough of interest, although I wouldn't mind coming back here in Spring or early Summer.

The rain soon did a runner, making way for rays of glorious sunshine, which would accompany us into the evening.

Saturday the 12th of September was my birthday. My 65th birthday, to be exactly, so that I may officially consider myself an OAP. Well, on paper, that is. At the very least, it entitles me to a bus pass at a steeply reduced price :-)

Anyway, the weather gods treated me to a sunny day for my birthday!

I was determined to spend my birthday abroad, so we once again set off for the border, my choice of destination being Esquelbecq, a charming little town, or rather, village in French Flanders, about 20 kilometers from our cottage.

We had barely crossed the border into France when our plans were thwarted by a road closure due to a funfair. Unperturbed by it all, our Satnav proceeded to guide us along a succession of narrow lanes whose surfaces had seen better days, until we reached a main road with erratic speed limits, where we joined a long queue of traffic behind a slow-moving agricultural vehicle. It was nothing short of a miracle that we finally made it to at our destination and immediately found a free parking space on the main square opposite the church.

Esquelbecq is said to owe its name to the presence of its many oak trees. The name first appears in the 9th Century AD in the biography of St. Folquin, who  converted the local population to Christianity and died here in 855.

Presiding over the village's main square is the three-aisled hall church that bears its name - its oldest part dating back to the 10th Century - with its striking yellow and red trellis-like brickwork.

The tower houses a carillon with 13 bells, 12 of which date back to 1586.

The church was heavily damaged by a massive fire on Palm Sunday in 1976. It was painstakingly reconstructed in its traditional Flemish Gothic style and was finally reopened to the public on Christmas Eve in 1978.

Some charred pieces of liturgical furniture and religious statues survived the fire and can still be viewed inside the church today as a historical record of the event.

The ultimate aim of our journey was a visit to the 17th-century Flemish Renaissance water castle located in the centre of the village. As it would only open at 2 pm, we had a wander around the village and paid a visit to the church until our stomachs reminded us that it was time for lunch.

We were able to grab one of the last tables at La Régalade, a restaurant right next to and with a view of the castle. 

The gates opened at exactly 2 pm, by which time a small group of people was waiting impatiently, dying to explore the castle and its grounds.

Built around 1606–1610 on medieval foundations, the fairy tale-like castle features red brick styling, U-shaped wings enclosing an inner courtyard, round Gothic-style towers, wide moats fed by the River Yser, and a 17th-century dovecote. 

Although we didn't spot any doves, we were charmed by the free-roaming snow white peacocks which call the grounds their home. In fact, they are such a beloved feature of the castle that a white peacock feather serves at the castle's emblem. Some feathers were even for sale in the boutique selling home-grown produce and home-made jams, but as luck would have it, we found one for free in the grounds.

The castle originally had a medieval donjon or keep, which tragically collapsed during a storm  in September 1984.  The imposing 30-meter-tall donjon, featuring a spiral staircase with 126 steps, stood in the inner courtyard of the castle and had been added to and modified over the centuries, which ultimately affected the structure's stability.

The keep collapsed inward and outward, entirely obliterating itself while crushing almost half of the castle's North Wing. The impact destroyed the historical salons, valuable furnishings and centuries-old artwork, instantly making the castle unsafe and completely uninhabitable.

Following the disaster, the estate remained shuttered, neglected, and closed to the public for more than 30 years. It was officially registered as a historical monument in 1987 to protect what remained.

In the early 2000s, the Tamer-Morael family acquired the property and launched a multi-decade restoration effort. They rebuilt the destroyed North Wing, repaired the roofs and revitalized the unique gardens.

There are no plans to rebuild the iconic donjon, though.

The castle officially reopened its doors to the public in 2018 although apart from the garden and  grounds just a handful of rooms - most of them still unfinished - can be visited.

In the courtyard, a row of open windows are inviting a peek into the estate kitchens.

The 7-hectare estate includes formal Flemish Renaissance gardens, a kitchen garden, an orchard, and - according to the almighty Internet - a plant maze inspired by 17th-century models, which unfortunately we weren't aware of at the time of our visit.

There are topiaries and hedges, carefully trained and pruned pear and apple trees, and a lush and well-stocked vegetable garden. 

Taking centre stage in the garden since 2016 is a monumental sculpture titled L'Arrosoir d'Alice (Alice's Watering Can) by the French sculptor Philippe Thill.  

The sculpture stands about 4 meters tall and features a massive watering can complete with a large snail perched on its handle. Based, quite obviously, on Alice in Wonderland, the piece plays with scale to make visitors feel like tiny characters lost in an oversized garden.

It was late afternoon before we were finally able to tear ourselves away from this glorious garden. 

The journey back to our cottage wasn't without its hiccups, but that definitely didn't spoil this most perfect of days. 

Thank you for joining us on our travels!

June's journey

We’re currently counting down the days to our long-awaited UK holiday and I actually can't believe we will be there this time next week! As I’ve got to work until Wednesday and we’re leaving already on Thursday, I needed to plan ahead and do the majority of my packing this weekend. Always glad to have that out of the way!

But a promise is a promise so, before we leave, here’s a little update on what else has been happening lately. Catching up completely keeps being quite beyond me, so once again I’m taking you on a little trip in the old time machine, travelling back to the month of June. Be prepared to see lots of outfits, both worn before and after our stay at the cottage in Poperinge.

Monday, which was the first day of June, had a sunny start with highs of a delicious 23°C.

I was wearing the same skirt I wore for the previous day's walk in the park: a blue cotton midi skirt with a most groovilicious pattern. Its companion that Monday was a parrot-patterned top from the Belgian Sweet Soda label. Both were charity shop finds, as was the big green bird on a branch brooch.

My green stretchy belt with its bamboo buckle - a true wardrobe stalwart - was a high street buy a couple of years ago. 

For various reasons, no outfit photos were taken for the rest of that working week, which offered a string of days on which the sun kept playing hide and seek with the clouds and showers were rife.

Think Twice were having another one of their famous sales. With prices down to € 5 and then € 4 per item it would have been rude not to have a rummage!

Not one, but two butterfly-sleeved dresses found their way into my wardrobe, the one on the left being vintage C&A, while the one on the right is good old vintage Diolen.

I fell head over heels for the skirt, which has a rather posh-looking label reading Gerard Pasquier, Paris.

Googling it, this is what I found, neatly translated from the French:

Founded at the beginning of the last century, Gérard Pasquier was initially a leading French brand renowned for its elegant and sophisticated clothing. Embodying the Parisian chic that made it great and famous, Gérard Pasquier now embraces a more understated elegance in keeping with today’s fashion.

I'm not sure of its age, but isn't that pattern just fabulous?

Now, let's fast forward to Friday the 5th of June. The weather gods were clearly having an argument about whether to send sunshine, clouds or rain our way, resulting in a mix of all three, with highs of only 18°C.

My denim button-through skirt was bought on the high street about a year ago, while my colourful dagger-collared coffee-themed blouse is vintage 1970s and was a charity shop find.

Accessories:

- Lilac vinyl belt and orange wooden beads: charity shopped

- Orange cat brooch: Katshop

- Orange plastic ring: Le Petit Souk, a quirky shop which sadly closed its Antwerp branch earlier this year

- Lilac watch: high street bargain shop

I’ve got some garden news for you as well. For quite a while now, I’ve been referring to Dove Cottage’s little patch as the impenetrable jungle or wilderness, which definitely wasn’t an exaggeration.  A true sanctuary back in the days of Covid, neglect had slowly but surely started creeping in during the Summer of 2022, when our neighbour’s kitchen extension threw more than just one spanner in the works.

Bags of compost mixed with rubble were still cluttering the back of our garden, and ivy and other climbers had been left to their own devices, which they gleefully made use of by smothering our tiny patch with their rampant growth. I now regret not having taken any before photos, but at one point we couldn't even see the back of our garden from the kitchen window ...

 

At Jos's local, he'd made the acquaintance of a guy who cleaned up gardens in his free time and who agreed to come and do ours. So, on Wednesday the 3rd of June, he and a mate arrived with some heavy machinery and, taking their job description a bit too literally, completely obliterated all signs of life from the main part of our garden. I actually cried when I saw the concrete desert they'd left behind when I came home from work! Thankfully, they'd left the narrow border on the right, home to our white currant bush, Fuchsia magellanica and magnificent Acanthus mollis aka Bear's Breeches, virtually untouched.

That weekend saw us driving down to the garden centre and spend a small fortune on plants. Just positioning them around the garden still in their pots made all the difference, although without any climbers, ferns and the low Cotoneaster shrubs lining the steps to the sunken part of the garden, it was still looking more than just a little bit desolate.

The weather was another mixed bag of sunshine and dull grey clouds on Monday the 8th of June, but at least the mercury deemed to climb into the low twenties.

My outfit was a mixed bag as well, the green and navy Breton top, ankle boots and enamelled butterfly brooch all being second-hand finds, while the floral skirt, necklace and belt were high street buys. As they've all earned their keep in my wardrobe by now, I'm calling them fast fashion turned slow!

Monday's temperature had clearly been a one-off, as by Wednesday we were down to a miserly 17°C.

Mostly cloudy, with heavy showers and some thunder in the evening, it made me reach for warm layers, in the form of a vintage polyester knit skirt, a vintage long-sleeved blouse and short-sleeved but chunky knit Dralon cardigan. 

My belt with its flower-shaped buckle was another high street find, and I picked up the pale pink suede ankle boots in the closing-down sale of New Look's Antwerp shop back in February 2019.

The showers came thick and fast on Friday the 12th, although there was a brief spell of clear weather in the afternoon. Again, the temperature didn't rise above 17°C.

Following a morning of chores and shopping, we were invited by my friend Inneke for her 65th birthday drink at Bistro Jules in nearby Wilrijk. We went to school together but she's a couple of months ahead of me :-)

Both my faux-snake skirt (by posh label Caroline Biss) and funky patterned blouse came from the rails of the same charity shop, as did the orange wooden tile necklace. My brooch is vintage and was a flea market find. In fact, I think that the only item which was new rather than new-to-me is the belt!

Initially, Saturday's weather didn't look too promising either. A thick layer of grey greeted us as we got up, but it didn't take all that long for the clouds to disperse and present us with patches of blue sky which grew wider and more plentiful as the day progressed.

With temperatures of around 20°C, it was the perfect weather to plant up all these patiently waiting new acquisitions! 

In the meantime, one or two hesitant fern fronts had been brave enough to rise from the dead. 

Planting done, this is what I changed into to sit outside and admire the fruits of my hard work.

My denim maxi dress was a gift from Vix and Jon back in June 2023. I added a multi-coloured pleated leather belt at my waist, wore a string of plastic orange beads - both charity shopped - and pinned a funky lady's head brooch - a cheeky retail buy - to the dress's bodice. 

On Monday the 15th, there was no sign of the heatwave forecasted to start later that week. Both the sun and the day's highs of 21°C must have overslept and took their time to arrive.

My wide floral cotton button-through skirt winged its way from Think Twice into my wardrobe about two years ago. I acquired the short-sleeved thin knit jumper, in an eye-searing pink, around the same time. Together with its green sister, I bought it in the sales from the Sweet Soda - a Belgian label - shop near my office. Another one which has since closed its doors ...

Accessories and shoes were all charity shopped.

Tuesday was the day that Jos had his fall and hurt his knee, jeopardizing our upcoming holiday in Poperinge end of that week in the process. After an evening at A&E, where thankfully it was ascertained that he'd sustained no fractures, we were sent home with nothing more than the advice to take some paracetamol and do some gentle exercises. Needless to say, stress levels were high and neither of us slept well that night. 

But we did make it in the end, even if it was a holiday with a hurdle ...

One last picture of our garden before we go. I'd picked up some solar lights during one lunch break the other week, which we'd dotted around the garden. We've added more in the meantime, but this is how it looked on Saturday the 20th of June.

I'm happy to report that the vast majority of our new plantings had survived the heatwave of our week away virtually unscathed, although our pots and hanging baskets were gasping for a good soaking.

Our bedroom was akin to a sauna but after briefly considering sleeping on the sofa downstairs, I decided to brave the +30°C for the comfort of my bed. Jos was so lucky to be able to sleep in his hospital bed downstairs!

The mercury was still flirting with 30°C on Sunday, which was a vast improvement to the +38°C we'd arrived home to on Friday.

This is what I wore for grandson Cas's birthday party on Sunday afternoon:

- Waxed cotton wrap skirt: Think Twice

- River Woods t-shirt, necklace: charity shopped

- Birds in flight brooch: bought in Cardigan during one of our Welsh holiday

Monday the 29th was the last day of my holiday. The temperature had dropped to a much more bearable - but still much too warm for me - 28°C.

I was wearing the Missoni-esque skirt which was part of my holiday wardrobe but which I hadn't worn.

Both the skirt and the King Louie blouse were charity shopped, as were the bangles and necklace. The pleated yellow belt was a flea market find. 

We sat out in the garden for most of the afternoon and were delighted to see the butterflies and bees return to our little slice of paradise. In spite of being spoiled for choice, they seemed to have taken a particular liking to the Echinacea. 

There's a close-up of that old garden stalwart, the Bear's Breeches, on the top left, with the only flower produced by our new Clematis piilu below. Top centre are the pale lavender flowers of Verbena rigida Sky Blue. On the bottom right, my favourite, Helenium Moerheim Beauty. 

So, that was it. See you when we're back from the UK!

Holiday with a hurdle

It's been exactly a month to the day that we exchanged Dove Cottage for our home away from home in Poperinge on Sunday the 21st of June.

However, as my blog title suggests, it was definitely a holiday with a hurdle. In fact, what with Jos's fall earlier that week, it was nothing short of a miracle that we even made it to the cottage which first captured our hearts back in 2012.

As a result of some gentle exercise and the benefits of the cortisone-like tablets he'd been prescribed, Jos's knee had healed sufficiently by Sunday, so that he was able to drive without any pain and walk short distances with the aid of his walking stick.

He was even able to climb and descend the eleven stairs leading up to the studio apartment above owner Marino's carport, albeit slowly, taking it one step at a time.

A hurdle in quite a different form would be the impending heatwave. With the temperature expected to steadily climb into the 30s, this would rather limit our options.

After our luggage was lugged upstairs by yours truly, we made ourselves at home and sat downstairs in the shade with a cool drink and a view of the flat-as-a-pancake landscape beyond the domain's duckweed covered pond.

Serenaded by a chorus of frogs, we'd slept like the proverbial logs, waking up still sleepy-headed around 8-ish on Monday morning. 

A glimpse through the cottage's French windows made me grab for my camera to catch the landscape beyond the pond veiled in a thick layer of fog. In front of the pond, three of the domain's four lawnmowers were already hard at work. Once the midday sun made it too hot for any living creature to bear, they retreated to their den under the trees and wouldn't be seen or heard of until she'd made her slow descend towards the horizon.

Not having made any plans whatsoever, we decided to take the short drive to the nearest of the Commonwealth cemeteries to our cottage. 

Only 5 minutes up the road, we would actually have been able to catch sight of Nine Elms British Cemetery from our cottage's balcony if that weeping willow wouldn't have blocked our view.

Entrance to the rectangularly shaped cemetery is through an archway with the Cross of Sacrifice visible in a central position at the far end. 

The cemetery contains 1556 Commonwealth burials of the First World War and 37 German war graves from this period. There are also 22 Second World War burials, all dating from the Allied retreat to Dunkirk in 1940.

The cemetery, which was begun in September 1917, was designed by Sir Reginald Blomfield.

Having walked the length of the cemetery, Jos was in need of a sit-down, offering the perfect opportunity to have a look at my outfit.

- Black and white diagonally striped max skirt: C&A Summer sales 2025

- King Louie t-shirt, necklace, belt and fake snake bag: charity shopped

- Butterfly brooch: AKotee (gift shop near my office)

- Hat: flea market

Leaving the cemetery, we continued to a small local supermarket to stock up on food and drink, after which we returned to the cottage for lunch.

The afternoon was spent having a lengthy siësta and reading. Note how my literature of choice matches my skirt!

On Tuesday morning, we were rudely awoken by a single thunderbolt followed by the pitter-pattering of rain against our windows. The rain lasted all the way through breakfast after which the mercury had dropped to a refreshing 21°C. 

Breakfast, by the way, consisted of softly boiled local eggs, obviously eaten with the obligatory soldiers!

With the last of the raindrops evaporated into thin air, it didn't take long for the temperature to reach 30°C (and beyond) again. 

Before it became too hot, though, we drove down to the one of the local woods for a walk.  The so-called Sixtusbossen (or Sixtus woods) are a 300 hectares complex of woods, which is cared for by Natuurpunt, the largest Belgian nature conservation organization.

There, I left Jos sitting on a shady bench while I went for walk based on the area's numbered walking map. 

Although signposted, I was a bit reluctant to take the overgrown path on the top right, which looked like it hadn't been walked on in ages. Still, I persevered, accompanied by the fierce barking of a dog who seemed to live behind the hedge on the right. I met the creature in question at the end of the path, where it turned out that the gate for the garden it was in stood widely open. Probably sensing my fear, it bared its teeth and continued its barking, which had turned quite menacing. I tried to remain cool headed and slowly proceeded along the tree-lined path on the bottom left, quite relieved that it didn't decide to follow me. Phew!

Back at the bench where Jos was waiting for me, I discovered that I'd lost my walking map somewhere along the way. Knowing the final numbers by heart, I hadn't made use of it for some time, so I had no idea where exactly it had made its escape. Nevertheless, I'm blaming the dog!

As the loss of the map would even further limit our options, we drove down to Poperinge in the afternoon to acquire a replacement from the tourist office in the town's buttery yellow neo-Gothic style town hall. 

Just look at that deep blue sky!

Before returning home, we stocked up on ice cream and cold drinks at the local supermarket.

Back at the cottage, we sought out that shady spot in front of the pond again, where we sat and sampled some refreshing alcohol free beers.

I was wearing the skirt I officially declared as my most worn this Summer in my previous post. It made no less than two appearance during our holiday.

- Skirt: Think Twice, March 2025

- Retro style naive flower print t-shirt: pre-blog high street sales bargain 

- Cat brooch: Katshop

- Spanish fan: charity shopped

That evening, we sat and watched the sun go down on our balcony before calling it a day and enjoying another night, its soundtrack once more provided by the resident frogs. 

 

With ever increasing temperatures of around 34°C forecasted for Wednesday, it was cool cottons to the rescue. 

I was wearing the tropical print tiered C&A skirt (a C&A Summer sales bargain in 2019) I'd worn to travel in on Sunday, its companion a green peasant style broderie anglaise blouse, picked up in the New Look sales several years ago. I was still in my slippers, which obviously I exchanged for sturdier footwear for the walk we'd planned that morning.

Armed with our new map, which we made sure not to leave out of our sights, we drove down to another wooded area, the Galgebossen, which lies about 8 kilometer to the Northeast of Poperinge.

Once arrived and parked, we left our car in the care of the local band of chickens, one of which seemed to have taken a shine to it.

We did a wonderful 6,5 kilometer walk here back in September 2022 but, although Jos declared himself ready to join me, we limited ourselves to a shorter version of just over 2 kilometer.

It was absolutely heavenly to walk on a succession of sun-dappled woodland paths, although the regular patches of sticky mud and puddles rather took us by surprise.

After a rest and refuelling at a little brick barn turned shelter with a view of a dew pond ringed by ancient pollarded willows, we embarked upon the return route.

Having guarded our car so diligently, we were ever so sorry that we'd come empty handed and were unable to reward the chicken with some tasty bites.

Thursday - and our last full day at the cottage - dawned all too soon.

Another scorcher with highs of 34°C, I was glad I'd packed my bag with lightweight heatwave proof clothes only. My fuchsia crinkly tiered skirt came out to play again, this time worn with a butterfly sleeved Zara blouse I'd charity shopped a couple of years ago. My string of multi-coloured beads was picked up from the charity shop here in Poperinge in September 2019.

With the temperature becoming more and more unbearable, we were at a bit of a loss what to do that day. That is, until Jos suggested another visit Talbot House in Poperinge.

It wouldn't be our first visit here. Our penultimate visit was back in September 2024, while I first introduced you to this wonderful place in September 2016.

Here's some potted history. 

Talbot House was opened in 1915 by British army chaplain Philip Clayton as a soldiers' club. During the Great War, Poperinge was part of unoccupied Belgium. Away from the turmoil of battle in the Ypres Salient, the town became the nerve centre of the British sector. Talbot House provided rest and recreation to all soldiers coming in, regardless of their rank.

It is still run by British wardens, aided by volunteers, and all visitors are offered a cup of tea or coffee, included in the ticket price. 

We got talking to that week's group of volunteers, who came from Bruges and whom we delighted with our knowledge of their home town. While I briefly explored upstairs, one of them accompanied Jos to an exhibition space in the garden where, courtesy of aircon, it was mercifully cool. He then came to look for me telling me where he'd left my husband.

We spent the afternoon lounging around the cottage once more and spent a very sweaty and uncomfortable final night before loading our car and driving back home in the morning.

With our UK holiday fastly approaching, I hope I'll find some time for another catch-up before we leave. If not, thank you for reading and see you on the other side!