l'heure du Muscat

I've just returned from a 2 week trip to the south of France, a place very close to my heart where I haven't been to in over seven years. It was strange traveling along the coast in a train and passing by all the familiar stations. I looked out into the countryside knowing that somewhere beyond the cypress trees and lavender fields lies an old farmhouse where I lived as an au pair over 10 years ago. I returned to the restaurant in old Nice where I worked as a waitress for a summer way back in '98. The decor has changed from 'dindgy but authentic old Nice' to 'tacky faux Cave' but the Ravioli chef tastes just as good as ever. It was a pretty magical trip and I had to be sure to savour every moment as it's my only holiday, it's strange to get used to having only a few weeks of holidays after almost 2 years of constant holiday. While in France staying in the vineyard in Perpingnan I developed a true love for the muscat grape and the fine sweet wine it produces, now every time I drink a glass of muscat I will be immediately transported back to the south of France in my little time-machine head.