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I’ve spent time in southern France twice before – once in May, the other time in early July. The weather was lovely both times, the towns and villages bustling. I guess I thought April would be somewhat similar. Au contraire.

Things may be worth singing about in Paris at the moment. In southern villages, not so much.

I had this picture in my head. First one awake would have a wander to the boulangerie to pick up les croissants et une demi-baguette. The boulangerie would not be far from home. Well, here’s the thing – there are boulangeries and patisseries not all that far away, but they’re closed for the winter and won’t reopen until the tourist season starts at the beginning of May. As we discovered the morning after we arrived, the nearest bakery is at least a kilometre away. Dommage.

I live on an island where many businesses can only survive based on the money they can make during the tourist season. (Some don’t make enough and do not survive.) But the restaurants stay open year round, as does the pub. I knew coming here that not everything would be open. I just hadn’t appreciated how much would be closed.

A wander around yesterday, up the hill to the centre of the medieval village, showed every restaurant closed along with almost everything else.

Oh, but, what’s this? Le chocolatier est ouvert! And happy to offer samples.

Turns out Dirk is very fond of nougat.

Et pour moi? Chocolat noir, s’il vous plait !

Not exactly the food shopping I had in mind, but…

Elsewhere… Only one other shop open.

Of course, it was the flamingo (and the fact that the place was actually open) that drew me inside.

But look what else this “shop of cool stuff” contained.

If you’re thinking “coals to Newcastle”, you’d be right – given the number of equally beautiful glass balls Dirk has created over the years. Still, worth making enquiries about local glass blowers. Oh, not local. Côte d’Azur. Oh, well.

Found one place that was open in the evening.