The picture of the lorry below reminded me of iconic images of France "68", "BB", St. Tropez, the 2CV, all belonging to another age.

An age where there were differences in our cultures, the colourful markets, the heat, the mountains, the cheeses, the food, and two hour lunches. While the French remain wonderfully idiosyncratic, the differences seem to be merging. Now all vans look the same, and have names like Pinto. Even food is not sacrosanct, with creeping European-ism on the menu to "please the tourists", and God forbid, ready meals in the supermarkets.

Sometimes I think it should be back to the future.

Vive la Difference!

Last week we went from arty Céret near Perpignan through the Pyrenees into Spain on a tiny mountain pass that was actually sign-posted as "interdit", but we ignored that and crossed on the mud track in 15 minutes. The road from Céret winds up the hill, affording stunning views of the Pic du Canigou and the plain to Perpignan. It's about 14km to Las Illas through idylic and isolated countryside, but to cross from there into Spain, one has to retrace ones step and go by a complicated road; hence the need for the shortcut. On the Spanish side the road is large and well made up and everything is suddenly quite different. Food and drink at the large border restaurant is much cheaper than in France; the smells, the flavours, the little coffees served in glasses, the sound of Catalan being spoken, made us feel as though we had travelled much farther.

After this little excursion we passed back into France via the village of St. Laurent de Cerdans where the now famous Toile du Soleil company weaves its Catalan fabrics in an artisan workshop. They have an outlet shop which is well worth a visit. (We already work with their sister company, Quinta who make our Catalan furniture.) There are also two companies in the village making traditional espadrilles. We sat in the sun outside Laurence's little pizza take-away which was pretty good too.

Wherever there is a car (usually rather battered) stationary at the side of the road, it's usually there for one of two reasons. If there is no one in sight then you can be sure that somewhere there is a Frenchman or woman foraging. Where the car is parked will vary with the time of year. It will be near a forest in the autumn, where the owner is quietly poking the undergrowth looking for mushrooms. We were given a tip for hunting mushrooms by an expert some time ago, and that is one must walk in circles as one hunts; the refraction of the light from different angles reveals the hidden mushrooms.

Spring will find the car near a ditch or hedge, the owner occupied with finding snails, wild garlic, and wild asparagus; it seems though that elderflowers go untouched, which is a surprise as they make wonderful fritters as well as cordial, something we're passing onto our French neighbours.

We have continued to be amazed at the ability of French country folk to find something consumable in the most unlikely locations.

While the French writer Boris Vians's assertion: "If there had not been any cafés, there would have been no Jean-Paul Sartre" takes the power of caffeine somewhat seriously, there is no doubt that French cafés have helped fuel intellectual and cultural life in France.

One of our favourite artists' haunts, though more a bar than a café, is the Hotel Le Templier in Collioure near Perpignan. It has retained a tangible sense of history in its walls, whilst art given in lieu of meals and drink by impoverished artists decades ago, adorns every inch of those walls. Great fun to spot the famous artist! Yet it hasn't sold out and traded on its past; it remains a living part of the village. Go inside, for that is the place to be, savour a local wine and watch the locals play cards and banter in Catalan, around probably the same tables that Picasso played on. Magic!

Staying in Villeneuve lès Avignon at the Hotel de L'Atelier we were reminded of what this unique land has to offer. The Papal occupancy of Avignon during the 14th century has left its mark on the entire area, leaving it with a rich architectural and cultural heritage. The village of Villeneuve lès Avignon for instance was used by the cardinals during this period, and as well as the grand properties left by them, it has the perfect Provençal square. This village is a great base for exploring the surrounding area, places such as L'Isle sur la Sorgue, famous for its antique shops, Arles, the Carmargue, the Alpilles, and Avignon where it is impossible to park inside the city walls.

The thing that really struck us though was the "Esprit de Provence", a beguiling mix of sound and smells that comes from the first southern landscape in Europe; it infuses itself in the relaxedness of the people, the lightness of the food, but first and foremost the light! Lauded by many, this unique light gives a clarity that is difficult to find anywhere else.