It’s rare for me to experience a day so perfect that your whole body relaxes and your heart embraces the world in all its beauty, but here was one such day.
I remember the day that we sat on the beach in Beaulieu-Sur-Mer eating cold garlicky tagliatelle with girolles cooked the day before, the girolles bought from the colourful market in Nice, where I’d managed to spend €20 on two mushrooms at the same time. They were ceps from the Massif Central though, as if that somehow justified the extravagance.
I remember the cold rosé wine that we decanted in to a plastic water bottle kept cold by one of those sleeves you put in the freezer.
I remember the bus journey from Nice and the group of Italian students that joined at a stop that I forget. They were noisy, boisterous and clearly having fun.
I remember that when we arrived at Beaulieu, the beach was almost empty, the sun was hot, the sky a perfect azure blue and expensive yachts shimmered off the coast of Cap Ferrat.
I remember that I’d forgotten my trunks, but still took to the sea, somewhat embarrassed, in my underpants. I remember that the sea was cooling and the sun bounced off the blue water.
I remember how we sat there on our bamboo mats and towels reading and at times just simply staring at the view, me feeling unusually happy and content.
I remember the bus journey back to Nice, where, as luck would have it, we were joined by the very same group of Italian students, still noisy, still having fun.
I remember exchanging smiles.
…. a perfect day.