23 July 2014

Wedding memories with my Mumma

Endless days spent dress shopping, lunching, chattering and sampling wedding wines made the run-up to my wedding a pretty brilliant time for Mum and I. 

She's also my bestie. Look, here we are 'having a moment' on W day...


2 July 2014

French fancy: Summer holiday

Cramming too many dresses and, optimistically, TWO sports bras in to a suitcase, I was ready for our summer jaunt to the south of France. 

Even the indecent break-of-day alarm didn't dampen our spirits as we cruised to the airport for a 5am Benugo bagel.

Stock up on magazines. Take off. Fanfare when we land on time. Guffaw. Poke leg out of plane. HEAT! 

We hijacked my mumma and step-pops' French home. And by 'hijacked', I mean they took us out for dinner, stocked the fridge with wine, then packed their bags and left us to it. What a duo!

Kicking off the holiday in the best way. 

So ensued 8 days of eating, drinking and sun-bathing.

We visited our nearest town's Saturday morning market, intending to avoid parking dramaz by hopping on the bus when a man pulled over and offered us a lift.

He had a bed and some bongos in the back of his van, and Bob Marley on the stereo. My French isn't great, but I think he said he worked for the ministry of justice and played African music on the weekends. Why not?

Thanking our new friend, we roamed around the enticing stalls lining the main square and stocked up on salami (husband) and olives (me).

Pre-bongos at the bus stop. 
Market wonders. 
Coffee break.

Other 'adventurous' days involved a trip to Avignon. You know, the one with the Pont. It's a beauty of a city… super ancient and containing the Palais des Papes (massive castle, popes used to live in it). 

We also went to the very chic Aix-en-Provence. Boulevards lined with trees and cafes attracting ultra-stylish French people who have animated conversations over cigarettes and aperitifs.

Pont d'Avignon.
Pope's French pad. 

Aix: So French!

But mostly, we just lounged around, played games, and endured watched the World Cup.

Taking a dip in a friend's pool. 

Uno: game of champions. 
Village prancing. 

In the end, I wore one eighth of the things I'd packed and the sports bras did NOT see the light of day.

Dreamy hols.
Blog Design Created by pipdig