The world from my window

It's the height of fete time here in France, with the weirdest, wildest, wackiest festivals you could ever imagine. Most of them involve eating and drinking, which is perfectly fine if you're into that sort of thing. Luckily, I am. I think I'm going native. August is the time to have fun with friends. However old or young you are. I could be here for some time. This one involved rows of mussels in soaked paper and then straw put on the top and set alight. Seems rather a convoluted way of cooking mussels en masse, but ho hum, why keep things simple? Later this week we'll be enjoying an omelette made with two and a half thousand eggs. Porquoi? Porquoi pas. That's about it. Love Maddie x

So there we were, enjoying France at its liveliest when someone pointed to the sky. The moon. There was a great chunk missing from it, as if it were made from fromage and someone - or some thing - had taken a bite. A clanger maybe. (I love The Clangers. Here they are on my windowsill at home, courtesy of the good knitters of Lush Places WI). We sitting outside at a village marche gourmand when we witnessed a partial lunar eclipse. What made it even more exciting was that we'd had no prior knowledge it was going to happen. This is because I've stopped listening to the news, too depressed by the whole Brexit debacle, the state of the world in general and the idiots who run it. It's almost fifty years to the day that Neil Armstrong took that one small step and a giant leap for mankind. Back then, I was coming up to nine years old. The moon landing filled me with awe and hope, hope for the bright future that surely lay ahead of all of us.  I still love the idea of s...

It is autumn in southern France and the rural lanes are full of fallen walnuts, squashed damsons and spiky chestnuts. There are teasels and cornflowers, scabious and vetch and yarrow. Wild yarrow. In our neighbour’s garden a banana tree grows. It’s ugly and incongruous in this enchanted light but, still, it grows bananas. The scent of deer is strong, very strong, as I take the dog out on a long lead down unfamiliar paths, past long-dead sunflowers, their sad heads drooping, ashamed to look at the ball of light still burning so fiercely in the sky. Their faces turn away from the waning gibbous of a once glorious harvest moon, still sitting high in the sky despite the sunlight. It is autumn in southern France. It is warm and light and inspiring, with a vast blue sky, save for a few vapour trails from aeroplanes flying in and out of Toulouse. There is complete tranquillity here but in the woods, jays shriek as if they are witnessing – or committ...

In the sleepy plateia, the swallows are swooping on training flights, chattering on the wing. There are literal double takes from villagers as they realise we're back, and lots of kisses, hugs and smiles. In Paleokastritsa, the sea is clear and inviting through the olive trees. In the town, washing is hung out between the streets, as it has done for hundreds of years. And our favourite hole in the wall has expanded to the other side of the street, still serving up the best souvlakia on Corfu. The blue sky sets off the beautiful colours of the houses and shutters. The air is warm. It is spring but the island has jumped straight from winter right into summer. Today is a holiday. Children will gather flowers from the olive groves to make May Day wreaths for their front doors. That's about it. Love Maddie

We've been promised a heatwave of sorts here in England next week. And about time, too! Spring's been a long time coming. Still, in the words of Louis Armstrong, I don't care what the weatherman says, when the weatherman says its raining, you'll never hear me complaining. Unless it's snowing and I slip and hurt my back.  But that's all in the past. The agony of back pain is forgotten, at least for the moment. Trees are beginning to come out in blossom. I even saw a swallow in Lush Places the week before last! Deep joy. They fill me with such happiness. And the wallflowers too. I love them. And mine are beginning to come out. Their scent is going to fill me with paroxysms of delight, I just know it. While we've been waiting for spring to spring, ITV has been very cleverly spoon-feeding us sunshine ever Sunday night in the shape of The Durrells , the television series loosely based on the Corfu Trilogy by Gerald Durrell. It makes for v...

An elephant pulls up alongside us at the traffic lights. We're in Jaipur, India, and very much enjoying the Pink City. We deliberately avoid riding on one of these noble creatures up to the Amber Fort though - much to the surprise of our lovely driver, Rajiv - because we're concerned about the animals' welfare. Still, we see plenty of them, and lots of other things beside, on our Trailfinders trip to India's Golden Triangle - Delhi, Agra and Jaipur - and then on to Shimla on The Himalayan Queen 'toy train' up into the cool of the mountains. So many stories, so many wonderful moments, it's hard to pick out just one highlight, because everything is so special.  Mr Grigg and I will never forget our visit to  Gurudwara Sis Ganj Sahib ,  the Sikh temple in Delhi, where hundreds of people are fed every day. The Taj Mahal is more serene and jaw-droppingly beautiful than anyone could ever imagine, even with hundreds of people walking around the ground...

The Griggs are on holiday. Come with me now to Corfu to find out how we're getting on. Just hop across to my occasional blog, The world from my porthole , for tales of grand pianos, octopus in red sauce and ill-fated football matches. That's about it. Love Maddie x