The Secret Garden
Still in recovery from the early morning flight from Stansted to Carcassonne. Absolutely bursting at the seams with visitors flocking to the Languedoc via Ryanair. Even at the ungodly hour of 6 a.m I bumped into a few people I knew who were interested in my new venture here at Le Chateau so a few more business cards were dispensed. Mind you when asked how much I charged for a week in June I confess my mind went a complete blank. I simply cannot function on four hours sleep anymore and am happy to confess to the fact.
Alastair Sawday's office confirm that I will be receiving an inspection in the forthcoming weeks. My first visitors arrive for a weeks stay on Sunday evening, taking advantage of the in-house chef 'His Lordship' , who seems to have slumped in the morning sun after answering enquiries in Spanish.
It's a mystery really why I'm not in a full scale panic as I have to admit I'm NQR. (As in, not quite ready). Maybe it's because I'm looking at a picture of a rather pretty stone statue staring soothingly at a clump of spring primroses in my secret garden in Dorset.
Or maybe it's because the cat is dozing contentedly too, the birds are twittering in the warm morning air, and everything is looking rather splendid and inviting. Whatever the reason maybe you should come and grab a dose of this soothing tonic too.
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