Soulstice Immersions are two-week, women-only experiences, designed to help us come home to ourselves - through courage, creativity and connection. The quiet clarity that emerges when life finally gives us space to breathe. We created Soulstice because so many of us women reach a moment in our lives where we feel ready for something more, but aren’t sure what “more” looks like. Perhaps the chance to tell the story of "us", with our whole heart. Maybe to explore the willingnes

France is famous the world over for its attention to mealtime detail. None more so than the Christmas Eve celebration of “Le Réveillon de Noël”.

Once a simple word for a regular townsfellow, the term " bourgeois" has travelled through centuries of revolution, ridicule, and refinement. Its journey from common noun to common mirror, reflects our own uneasy juggle with progress and social aspiration. It is neither really a word of belonging, but perhaps more one that suggests "becoming". The hapless work of the sausage roll that wants to be a "Pork Wellington". Long before bourgeois became a petty insult, it was a mar

Generally, the French go at Christmas less hard than elsewhere it is celebrated. They don't post a shopping day countdown, or fall out of bars wearing reindeer horns from mid-November. France (mercifully) lacks the pub culture that brings the English "together". Nor, might I add, do they have TV programs of a necessary standard to keep people at home on the sofa. I cannot think of a single French TV show, where a Christmas Special wouldn't be acutely painful. Instead, the Fr

Every year, I hear someone say "It just keeps getting earlier "... referencing the sudden appearance of Christmas in late September. Like it matters. For me, any season that is associated with joy, giving and connection to loved ones can start its shift as early as it damn well pleases. Many do not share my view here and I fully respect that. For some, the hoildays are strongly linked to sadness, stress, depression and anxiety, for which I am profoundly sorry. That must suck.

A note on some feelings which recently surfaced, when Vanessa and I ran into a couple we hadn't seen for a while, and what began as a pleasant enough conversational exchange, soon had us on the back foot, in a sort of panicked display of what can only be described as "anxious over-explaining". It was very aparent that this was a central tenet to our personal sense of being in the right place. If our sense of belonging relates to the emotional landscape of moving to France, t

French supermarkets at Christmas-time are irresistibly mesmerising. Perhaps it’s the seasonal theatre of it all - quarries of oysters; gentlemanly rows of sincere-looking Champagnes, serious wines that require a quick chat before being chosen. Stockpiles of chocolate logs arranged like artillary ordanance. Or maybe it’s simply the Star Wars scale of the Hypermarché itself, which in December feels less like a shop and more like an obstacle course in Oz. "It's ok, I've got thi

"We have two ears and one mouth, so we can listen twice as much as we speak". - Eptictetus. -

I know... some of you will not see relocating as an "art" . Perhaps viewing it more of an extremely daunting prospect, a discomfort to be avoided, or just something that other people do. Particularly, of course if it involves not a mere change of post code, but a move that crosses time zones and international date lines. We benefit from a built-in bias around the beauty of staying put. Home is where our friends are, or the kids live, or the climate suits. It's where we "belon

Why is it, when we see the ruins of a great castle, the knarl of an ancient olive tree or the oldest grave in the cemetery, we become so awestruck and admiring? We are so absolutely enchanted by the sheer age of things. We respect them. We willingly keep off the grass of history. We admire the flaws and crumbling imperfections. We feel a loving and protective instinct, despite no sense of personal ownership. It runs deep in us and we feel proud to be a product of our creative

It is all well and good to throw buzz-words around, but one that often comes up in casual conversation these days, is ‘frequency’. Like most expressions, it can mean different things to different people and yet actually, is very rooted in science. Not in a “my frequency is like..so off today” as though you‘re just having a bad hair day, but involving physics…a real exchange of energy with the environment and people - total friends or total strangers. We’ve all been in a room

This month, rather than a focus on food and what makes our table groan, we feel a bit caught up in remebrance. Of course that in itself is quite fitting for November. It is a month roomy with retrospection, governed for most of us through the memorial of the 11th hour of the 11th day, to the waste they called "Great War". Mexico celebrates grief through continuity on the día de los muertos and the left-footers of Europe do their own version of their very best, on All Saints

Platform 13 CEO Vanessa Grant sits down with the a local artisan who shares her story of creativity and community.

There was a time when a social visit began not with a text message or a hopeful knock, but with a small, stiff rectangle. The calling card was both introduction and safeguard — a way to say, “I was here,” without barging into someone’s day. It was etiquette in miniature, a pocket-sized handshake. Each card bore its owner’s name, sometimes a flourish of script or a modest emblem. One might slip it onto a silver tray in the hallway, where a family’s social geography was quietly

“Travel whispers to the soul’s boldness. It asks not for the absence of fear, but the courage to lead into the unknown, to embrace both the journey and the self that is discovered along the way”.                      Attributed to Mark Twain                       Every step beyond what is familiar is an invitation to growth. We do not travel to coll

If Fridays had faces, it would be the mug shot of a pair of donkeys. Unhurried, not bothered, standing in the most shetered part of a wet meadow, the very picture of end-of-the-week sufficiency. The error we make, according to most donkeys, is in seeing these sweet and gentle creatures as slightly under-evolved horses. It is a subject of both slight resentment and constant discussion in all places where donkeys gather. They readily admit they lack the sleek flanks and polishe

Perhaps the greatest barrier to worthwhile communication is that we no longer listen to understand. We listen only to reply. Our ears twitch, our tongues prepare their retorts, and before the sentence has even ended, we are already halfway into our counterpoint. What passes for dialogue is often little more than a polite duel to get one’s point across and be heard. But what if listening was something else? If we approached each other’s words with kinder curiosity, the intent

Look out this month (around the weekend of Sepetmber 13/14) for France's European Heritage Day events ("Journées de Patrimoine") A nationwide event where historic sites, museums, monuments, and even private estates open their doors — often with free entry or special discounts. Here are 3 on Platform 13’s Not to Miss list; with drive times from our Estate. Abbaye de Chancelade (Dordogne) Founded in the 12th century, this serene abbey just outside Périgueux opens its cloisters

If you ever thought wood and clay had nothing in common, Stéphane Miglierina would like a quiet word. From his workshop in Monpazier, he takes the humble tree and the stubborn lump of clay and persuades them into a marriage so harmonious you’d think they’d been courting for centuries. His secret weapon? Raku firing. It’s a process that makes clay crackle with character, like fine laugh lines on a well-loved face. Then Stéphane pairs it with wood — walnut, cherry, whatever spe

Larders. Everyone either has one or wants one. Even the word is a delight to say. Lah-dah....lah-dee-dah, I'm in the lah-dah.. The word of course, has Latin roots, and derives from Lardum - meaning pork fat or what we now call bacon. It was (and still should be) a kitchens inner sanctum. A holy place, robust and well-filled with strong white ceramics and jarred beans and jams. It's an interior designers dream.. where kitchen necessities go to be instagrammed. But larders are