Place de la République, Sorède. The bunting across the square has French, Catalan and EU flags. Such a friendly and diverse community!
Today marks exactly six months since I drove into the village of Sorède in the south of France, on a chilly but bright afternoon in January, exhausted after two stressful days on the road with two equally stressed out cats. It has been a blast, and I wouldn’t swap it for the world.
The first couple of months were mainly about finding the best place to purchase firewood and wine: the absolute essentials for a rural French lifestyle! However, no sooner had I sussed out the bois de chauffage (firewood), than we had an unseasonable mini summertime in late February. There was I, walking around in my t-shirt, wondering why the French weren’t all doing the same. (Spot the Silly Eengleesh woman!)
Fellow Swanwicker Bridget Holding lives not too far away, and I was lucky enough to join her in March at her Wild Words retreat, sharing information on editing and proofreading, as well as how I am settling into my life in France. It was a wonderful opportunity to flex my writing muscles and I got a really important scene completed, one which I had been dreading to write for a while. It never ceases to amaze me how much just being in the company of other writers can give your imagination and motivation such an enormous boost.
April was a big month, especially for the cats. In actual fact, they have settled really well, but I knew for certain they felt at home when Marlowe was thoughtful enough to bring me a gift. A dead swift, from the flock that roosts on my roof. Bless him… so kind, but it REALLY wasn’t necessary… EEK!
June would have been a quiet month, were it not for a request I saw on a Facebook page for writers in the Languedoc region for someone willing to give a talk at a writers’ retreat. I met up with Wendy Yorke, literary agent and author coach (among other things), for lunch to discuss the finer points, and my first ever speaking engagement was now in my diary. It was such an honour to speak about my editing techniques, as well as my own writing journey. Such a fantastic bunch of writers, too.
But as the date neared, it turned out that there were more pressing things to attend to in June: my father went into hospital for a major heart operation. Sadly, the date was the day before my mum’s 80th birthday, and two days before his own birthday. Cue: impromptu trip back to the UK to spend time with them both, and take my mum out for dinner on her special day. Thankfully, Dad is now recovering at home, and we have postponed celebrating Dad’s birthday until later in the year, when they can hopefully come and visit me in my new home.
July has been mainly about learning to live with the summer heat in this part of France. You may have heard of the heatwave that hit us at the beginning of the month. Well, we’re due another next week, albeit not quite so hot, and with better nighttime temperatures, so sleeping shouldn’t be quite so bad. I don’t mind the heat at all, but it does become necessary to take advantage of a 2-hour lunch break and have a nap in the afternoon. Luckily, I live in an old stone house with thick walls and stone floors. Even without air conditioning, I find a couple of fans keeps the worst at bay, and I am learning to adjust my schedule to work more in the evenings when it’s not so hot.
Listening to the cicadas in the evenings
So, this brings me to what the next six months might bring…
August is often the hottest month here, apparently, so there’ll be a lot of visiting the beach, I suspect, and increasing my confidence of swimming in the sea.
There are writing retreats with both Bridget and Wendy again in September, and I’m hoping to pop along to both to share my editing expertise and soak up some more inspiration. By then, it should be cool enough to start taking walks in the countryside
In October I expect to be thinking about getting some wood delivered in preparation for the cold winter nights. We rarely ever get snow down here, but a frost is not out of the question, and I do not like to be too cold.
November is, obviously, NaNoWriMo month, and I am well under way with my historical novel, so I’d like to get the second and third draft finished and done, with a view to starting to think about a book cover and an editor.
December means my rendez-vous with la préfecture in Perpignan to apply for my residence permit. This means I have to gather the most extraordinary amount of paperwork together and present it to them with my reasons for staying here. “I am following my dreams,” I shall say… in French, naturally!
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