This stunningly gorgeous seascape and this bottle
and, finally, after hours of looking for food when and where no restaurants were open (the one that was, desolé, was full, and sent us down the road, to one that wasn’t . . . )
this ardoise full of better than palatable choices . . .
kept this one from giving into crankiness . . .
She had been sorely tempted, but had tried desperately to find strength to match her mari’s patience . . .
infusingimbibing several centuries’ worth of tranquility in Vertheuil . . .
Meanwhile, he drove according to my navigations, and once we got back on the road home to Bordeaux from our lovely respite at Souillac, he even found a Cave that was open for sales, so we were able to tick another of the day’s boxes, tucking a small case of wine in the trunk of the car.
Icing on the cake? There was a parking spot directly opposite our maison, rewarding us for figuring out the labyrinth of one-way streets.
Tea and a wee nap now before an evening of chamber music . . . .
What a great post! I feel relaxed just looking at that bottle of wine, um, I mean sea scape.
Ahh. Just . . . ahh. So evocative, such beautiful images.
Glad you enjoyed it, Marsha — and Kristin, I know what you mean; I also often confuse my bottles of wine and my seascapes, especially when in bordeaux . . . 😉
Ha!
What amazing pictures!