Spring of 2009

Today is the first day of Spring but there are precious few signs of it about: tender leaves on the willow trees, daffodils and primroses only just out. When I travelled from Dijon to Beaulieu-sur-Mer last week, the Vercors peaks were all clad in snow, as was Mont-Ventoux further to the south. Incidentally, if you look out of the train window assiduously, you can see the Ventoux from well north of Avignon all the way to just before Aix-en-Provence TGV station.

Not all that much sign of spring between Marseille and Nice, either. On the positive side, the mimosas, usually a spent force by now, were in glorious bloom. For me, they are the most beautiful of sights, ranking just behind brooms.

Although bitterly cold, it’s sunny weather which means that those who do venture out are almost certainly wearing sunglasses. I always think that dark glasses have the effect of making their wearers instantly sullen and in some undefined way evil. The men are transformed into Bruce Willis, capable of untold acts of gratuitous cruelty, the women into bitch goddesses or ice maidens, take your pick.

And the cold has not halted the dreaded and most unwelcome sound of lawn mowers in action, summoning retired majors and colonels outside for the initial skirmishes of a war which will rage through to October and beyond…