Here I am, relishing life in beautiful downtown Montpellier. Lynn is cooking dinner and Denis is reading Le Monde. All is right with the world.

Monday night, Lesley, Duncan, and I watched a Paul McCartney live concert video, because Lesley loves him too. It’s impossible not to be swept up in his joy, his absolute dedication to what he’s doing. At that point — 1993 — he was in his prime, singing and playing all his own songs, with his wife on stage with him. Delightful.

Tuesday morning, L and D drove me to the train station in Poitiers. I’m very grateful for the care these kind people took of me. A bond has been made.

It was a long day, almost two hours on one train to Bordeaux, then catching the train to Montpellier that stopped at lots of towns and took five hours. Luckily the trains are efficient and comfortable here, and I had marvellous John and Paul that absorbed me during the journey, except when I looked at the scenery, which was farmland and villages. Tidy at first, less so as we went south.

Enfin, Montpellier, my friend waiting, walking back to their apartment in centre ville for apèritif and dinner and much much talk. Lynn and Denis, the other L and D couple, have been married over fifty years. I was at their wedding in 1971. Incroyable.

Today, be still my beating heart, exploring the city and shopping. My friend is a shopper extraordinaire. She’s very thrifty, as are the French generally, knows quality, knows what looks good. We went of course to Monoprix, where she immediately saw an inexpensive shirt with bright blue stripes she knew would look good on her, and in fact, when we got home and I tried it on, I went back and bought one too. It’s very French. I found some loose light pants for summer. Most of all, I needed sandals and was convinced I’d have trouble finding my great big size. Not at all, I left the shoe store with the perfect sandals, reasonable, and in my size.

What a happy day. If all shopping were that pleasant, with my personal shopper by my side, I’d look different, I assure you.

But best of all, Lynn sent me to her hairdresser Fabrice. Mine in Toronto — my former hairdresser, as I will not go back — did a disastrous job before I left; my hair was dreadful in Paris, bits sticking out, straggly bits at the back. Fabrice took one look and knew how to tidy me up. I emerged with one of the best haircuts I’ve ever had, at half the price I pay in Canada. Lynn told me flowers and haircuts are always inexpensive in France.

When we came home, Denis was working — he volunteers with an organization that advises migrants on how to cope in this country — so we went out again for a glass at her favourite place on a busy square. The city is extraordinary, full of life, laced with narrow medieval streets crowded with university students, with free public transit for locals and a mayor who’s planting trees everywhere and working to get rid of cars in the city centre. Civilized, quoi. If only, Toronto.

So that’s it. No art and culture today. A bit too much food and wine, as always.

Supper — Madame made pork, Swiss chard gratin, and salad, followed by cheese, and a yogurt for dessert. We watched the first two episodes of Douglas is Cancelled, a new British series. Hilarious and terrifying – in British fashion, skewering just about everything, social media, British newspapers and TV news, feminism, woke-ism … The two last episodes tomorrow night.

Tomorrow – my only plan is to go to a hardware store for anti-moth stuff. They have much better stuff in France. Exciting, no?

I’m wearing my new sandals with my pyjamas. But I’ll have to take them off for bed.

Pix: 1. Place de la Comèdie, the huge central public square. 2. Both styled by Fabrice. 3. M. Blin at work. 4. Madame Blin and her friend of 58 years doing what they do best. One of us, as you see, knows how to smile. She’s wearing a coat I bought for her some time ago at Doubletake. I’m wearing a scarf we bought together on one of our stays in Paris. We go back, she and I. Denis told me the tablecloth they were using last week was the one I gave them as part of my wedding present in 1971. “It has a few holes now,” he said. Thrifty.

Oh, and while we were having our drink, my phone rang. It was Chris, FaceTiming from Gabriola Island to a bar in the middle of Montpellier. He knows L and D through me and once stayed at their place here, on the sofa where I’ll be sleeping tonight. We chatted there and again at home. Two of my best and oldest friends are themselves friends. That gives me pleasure. A great deal gives me pleasure.

News? What news?