il neige, il pleut, il fait gris ....

I've just got back from France again. I like saying that. It implies that I've had some sort of reunion with the sun.

This time I flew into Perpignan quite late, and as we had a stop in the middle of the road as we were driving back. It's still sort of weird looking up at the sky and seeing all the stars upside down. In fact it's just a totally different sky. Fancy something as immutable as the sky changing.

On the downside, I got bitten by a dog! A tiny yappy Yorkshire terrier no less. Good grief. I said it didn't like me because I've from Lancashire.

I went across to my local pub tonight for a quick pint. This village is suffering badly because so many of the people here are connected with the building trade, and a lot of the regulars have been out of work since before xmas. So I did my bit for the local economy and had two pints.

Last week I got on the train to come home and sat (something bizarre has happened - these days not only can I actually get *on* the train, but sometimes I can even get a seat!) next to man, as you do. The funny thing was that he was reading the exact same book that I am at the moment, Henry James' "Portrait of a Lady". Not only that, but he was up to exactly the same page! How cool is that? We had a right old natter about it.

This is worth mentioning, not only for the amazing coincidence, but also for the fact that I found a friendly person on the train. That's not to say that, deep down, the english aren't friendly. It's just that they almost never initiate contact with strangers (unless they're drunk and coming home from the rugby). I suppose it comes from living in such an overcrowded country. To be perfectly honest I feel more at home with the Scots.