I have a friend in France. She has lived many years in her beautifully restored house in a farming hamlet of 47 dwellings south of Paris. I love staying with her because we have inclinations in common, and the quiet and the pace, after time spent in a city, is a refuge. She’s a private person, as I am, but I don’t think she’ll mind if I show you a part of the world she’s created for herself just outside her door.
So ends the telling of PortMoresby's story of a trip to commemorate 50 years since her first visit to Paris, which was also her first time far from home.
Links to all seven chapters are here.
Next week, England is calling.