St Martin on Il de Re
A French island.
We were due to revisit this month.
I can feel the warmth of the sun on my back.
The oyster shells crunch under my feet.
The sea is a calm and turquoise.
We are having lunch al fresco with my sister in little restaurant on the beach.
The gentle waves lap the rocks and the oyster catchers search for their own food.
One of my sister's springers lies across my feet, a little reminder that a titbit or two would be very welcome.
My DH is in seafood heaven.
We wander along the beach into La Flotte.
It is market day, the stalls are awash with a rainbow of colourful fruit and vegetables.
Tomatoes and olives are purchased to accompany a selection of cheese and french bread, that is to be our supper, which we will enjoy on the balcony of our appartment, that in times gone by, would have been the residence of the governor of the island.
In the evening we walk along the marina, to sit outside our favourite bar and chat with the locals and joke about rugby with the owner.
Night has now fallen, boats bob gently in the breeze, a pale blue light that surrounds the marinas edge gives a blue glow to every craft.
The church stands tall looking over St Martin, it too is lit by lights, giving it a golden yellow.
We stand to admire and as my DH stops to take aphotograph, a bright full moon rises like a halo above the church.
As we continue our walk, we chat and make a promise, one day soon, we will bring our grandsons to visit our very special island.
If anyone is looking for an escapism book,
Sea of memories by Fiona Valpy
Is novel set partly in Edinburgh and on Il de Re.