Sunday June 13th

Day 55

In Anduze, on the way back to the car, a tray of almond florentines, sitting in the window of a patisserie call us inside. They are knobbly with candied peel, scraped with chocolate. Although we already have two bags of apricots and cherries we leave the shop with a pair of sticky florentines and somehow a small cardboard box containing a strawberry tart and a tarte tatin as well.

They are a perfect dessert after our very late lunch. We tear off chunks of baguette and dip them in olive oil laced with chopped garlic along with beef tomatoes sliced in quarters, bitter cucumber and frisee lettuce. And crumbly roquefort cheese for the man. We sit under the tiled roof of the terrace looking out over the pool and the pink flowering oleander bushes and beyond them the orchard of trees in long grass - cherry, fig, hazel and peach.

We listen out for the nightingale. The sun comes and goes. When the sky brews up heavy black clouds and thunder booms overhead, the rain finally comes - making a moving spotted pattern on the surface of the pool. But the birds keep up their singing and we savour each mouthful of our sweet fruity tarts. Knowing there will be florentines for supper.