As predicted, solitude was much relished yesterday – I walked a lot around the town, including, I confess, popping into Galeries Lafayette and other stores to see what they’re starting to serve for fall. (FYI: So far, the colours are grey and purple, lots of different layers, tuxedo or very short jackets and vests, cardigans, and as always, utterly absurd shoes.) Downtown Montpellier is a maze of tiny, rambling pedestrian streets, and around every corner, there’s another tiny square with its own café or two under the plane trees – utterly charming.

Then I went to see the new Woody Allen, “Whatever Works,” as much a fantasy as the Harry Potter I saw yesterday. I’m so impatient with Woody’s faithful belief that gorgeous young women will fall in love with nasty, misanthropic, elderly depressives because they’re smart and funny, I almost walked out of the movie theatre. Honestly, give me a break. However – I stayed and the film got better and better. Again, his fantasy that if the red states only moved to New York they’d discover their inner freedom … if only. But in the end, the film is highly enjoyable, if only, like Harry Potter, for the parade of great actors having the time of their lives.

And then I sat in my outdoor café again, had a beer, watched the crowds and read the London Review of Books. There is absolutely no discomfort here for a single woman to have a drink alone and sit for as long as she wants. I must find a place in Toronto to do this – it satisfied my need for company, and then I went happily back to the flat and sat in the glorious silence.

Bruce sent me some great articles about productivity and creativity which I will summarise for you when I return from my travels. Very inspiring. There was a beautiful obituary for Sarah Torchinsky in the Globe yesterday.

This is the last jaunt into the unknown on this trip. Wish you were here.