The shoe cupboard

Cliona asked me to make her a cupboard to hold some of her shoes.

While I was assembling pieces of timber I had in my shed, I paid a visit to the local dump.

Here I discovered and salvaged this carcass.

I was glad to have the basic structure.

It needed cleaning and a bit of re-joining. I removed the warped floor and shelf.

I made the drawers and panelled doors from recycled boards and three-ply.

I bought a lovely piece of Douglas Fir for the top; cut, joined and routed it..

I salvaged a carved head board from the Nicole tip and cut it to size.

I made shelf supports and slat shelves out of scrap ... and presented the finished cupboard to my darling wife for Christmas.

A Galapian Christmas

It was to our friends Richard and David that we went for Christmas lunch.

They are an English couple, both retired professionals, who, for many years, ran a restaurant in Stamford in Lincolnshire.

They've lived in the tiny village of Galapian for 17 years.  It is a five minute drive from here.

Richard is an artist and wine connoisseur.

David is widely read and a linguist. His French is the envy of the French.

Two other couples also attended ... like us, without children or grandchildren for Christmas.

David (standing) with his partner Richard

So, to the lunch, served in their warmly furnished and decorated living room.

Before taking our seats at the table, there was champagne and amuse bouches (little eats).

A consommé of mushroom, Madere and foie gras kicked things off. It was accompanied by a Spanish sherry, an alfons Cloroso Sec Gonzalez Byass.

The first entrée, sauteed scallops in truffle sauce, was accompanied by a 2018 Pouilly Fumé, Patrick Noel.

The second entrée was pan-friend, cured salmon with beetroot relish and chive cream. It was matched with a Gerurwztraminer Authentique 2016, Bernard Brecht.

A pear and eau de vie sorbet freshened our palates before the main course came out, a roast capon (neutered rooster) served with red wine sauce and a chestnut and truffle farce, roast potatoes, brussel sprouts, haricots verts and carrots.

main course was served with an erectile carrot between two sprouts

The wine was a truly stupendous Pomerol 2010 Thibeaud-Maillet.

fuzzy but not fizzy

The cheese consisted of a little log of chevre cendre, Camembert AOP, West County Farmhouse Cheddar (AOP), Munster au lait cru, caves d'affinage Schuster.

Le cheese board

The most delicious wine was served with cheese, a wine of great age and pedigree.

Buzet 1981

We had traditional Christmas pudding with a very strong brandy sauce, accompanied by a velvety Vouvray.

Our hosts are gourmands.

Their invited guests for Christmas lunch were privileged indeed.

Dali's house

Vowing to re-visit Collioure when the days lengthen and vitality returns, we took the spectacular coast road to Spain.

It was a thrill to see the Mediterranean again.

We passed graffitied buildings that were once the frontier,  abandoned and derelict high above the azure sea.

We drove to Cadaques and then Port Lligat on the Cap de Creus.

We spent a good couple of hours walking around Salvador Dali's house and grounds.

Anyone with the remotest interest in beauty, design or form, who feels inspired by the manifestation of genius or the power of imagination, will be awestruck by the works of Dali.

Collioure from our apartment

The bay in front of Dali's house

Dali's house

view out to the bay from inside the house

Dali's wife Gala

Their bedroom

the egg

Dali's contemporary

Collioure

Despite our best efforts we ended up driving through the heart of Toulouse on our journey south.

We negotiated the tangle of roads around Perpignan poorly. Instead of arriving in Collioure in the daylight, to enjoy the town, we got there after dark.

Our Airbnb hosts had told us about some nice restaurants.

But after dark in late November, Collioure is a ghost-town. Exhausted restaurant owners and staff had all left town.

I tried to engage a taxi-driver in conversation but as soon as he realised I wasn't a fare he became uncommunicative. He didn't know if any restaurants were open.

He couldn't even give me directions to Les Templiers, the town's most famous hotel/restaurant.

"But you're a local taxi-driver!" I said.

"Yea, but I'm not with the tourist office, "he grumbled and went back to his smart-phone.

We walked on and eventually ate at the only place open in town ... not a restaurant, more of a glorified bar.

Customers in the dining area included a raucous Spanish family, a pair of octogenarian Englishmen and a German couple.

The food was passable.

A bunch of dishevelled young men came in at 9 o'clock to watch the Champions League game between Barcelona and a German side.

We walked back to our accommodation in the mild, late-evening air, to the sound of water lapping  against the ramparts.