Number 11

Today Rachel Reeves moved into Number 11 Downing St and I moved into Number 11 Cours Dr Chabaud.

In my heart and soul I'm a Béalicienne and for the likes of us the Cours Dr Chabaud is the Flaubertien Bourgeois Street; double-fronted houses with long, depp gardens.  The fiefdom of the Priest, Doctor and Notary.

Over a coffee we mulled over what my new home should be called.  Given that it's a small flat in the only building in the Cours to have been divided up into apartments, Madeleine came up with Beorgeois Bis, which was perfect and stuck. 

During the course of the day this space became my home.  It took 5 of us and 4 trailer loads, several cans of coke and a large jug of wine to finish the afternoon, around the kitchen table where Jo had placed a jar of wild flowers.

Little by little people left and left me to my pottering.  I lit a couple of candles (no leccy yet) and settled at the balcony.  The cathedral windows were lit up and from within a choir sang Handel accompanied by trumpets, drums and organ.

Beyond the cathedral, in the Square, France won on penalties on a large screen.  The football shouts blended with the trumpets and the bass drums and the organ.

My first night at #11