Duras

We are living in Duras, on the Rue Chavassier, until the 15th of May. This is the day we conclude the contract to buy our house at Bazens.

I take a morning coffee at the Cafe De La Paix, which occupies an ancient, two-storey stone building on the Place du 11 Novembre.

The cafe has an attractive, solid-oak bar, carved at the front and a mauve marble top. There is a narrow, cast-iron spiral staircase, out of use now with a rope across the bottom step.

A painting of Puss-in-Boots adorns one of the front windows and on the first floor, an ornamental iron lace balcony graces a corner room, overlooking the square.

It is a clear spring morning. The only blemish on the vast blue sky is a vapour trail.

In front of me, the Chateau de Duras is perched on a high hill, commanding a 270 degree view of the countryside.

The Chateau draws the eye to its magnificent arched entrance and imposing tower. From where I sit, it is partly obscured by the roof of the main building, a steep structure covered in dirty, burnt-orange tiles.

Traffic is coming into the square. A truck is delivering something for the Terrace restaurant, but the young driver is having trouble backing into the car park opposite the Chateau. Twice he jumps out of the cabin and gesticulates to cars coming up behind him. Eventually he gets a clear passage and reverses in.

A white-haired man parks his beaten-up Volvo station wagon, leaving a German Shepherd in the back.

Behind me, I hear the cafe proprietress sing "Bonjour" to a newly arrived customer. A whiff of cigarette smoke drifts my way. It's the price you pay for sitting outside.

An old couple shuffle up from the direction of the Chateau passing under the bare, gnarly-fisted branches of three, heavily-pruned mulberry trees.

The Volvo man returns to his car, lights his pipe and drives off, his engine making a rattling noise.

Around the edge of the car park, there is a line of tall trees, skeletal and stripped by the winter. In the upper branches of one, a bird's nest sits exposed.

The Cafe de la Paix, with its outdoor tables on the edge of the square, in front of the Chateau  ... well, this is my "idea" of France.

It is like a scene from a French movie, or a song, or a painting.