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.

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

In France, where "bread is life", what happens when the bakery closes? Few countries keep such extensive data around bakeries as France does. According to a 2017 government report, 73% of the French population lived within half a mile of a Boulangerie. Of course, in a country where 8-out-of 10 people live in largely urban areas, it is plainly not a city-dwellers problem. It is in rural France where the loss of the village bakery strikes like a family bereavement. For the purp

Friends often tell me they dream of picking up and moving abroad. That is, until the thought of  logistics, language, visas… makes it feel too daunting a challenge. Change is hard when our ego says we are " fine where we are ", but there's more to it than that. Where do we even begin? Perhaps just begin, by beginning… A little about little me first… When I was eight years old, I was watching my mom put on makeup, when I blurted out “I want to move.” Confused, my mom asked “oh

"Labeling makes the invisible visible, but it’s limiting. Categories are the enemy of connecting."

The French have a verb for a very specific pastime. The dictionary has it as - Flâner… (v) to wander about with no particular purpose. Pronounced - flan - as in pan and ay - as in hay.  She  (or indeed he  - Le Flâneur ) was an individual who elegantly ambled the streets and squares with no desire to get anywhere specific, but simply to be there.  To observe. To absorb. To walk with no agenda other than the call of curiosity. In 19th-century Paris, flâneurs strolled the bou

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.

Our Brave Seeds "Women of Note" posts were originally conceived around a focus on the women who shape our regional community - social and entrepeneurial movers and shakers, whose gifts of giving back are, well... noteworthy. This month however, we are choosing not to wait until November's newsletter is published, but to live in the present moment of a great loss. To remember Dame Jane Goodall, who left us peacefully, just yesterday. Her life was a quiet revolution, rooted in

I love almost everything that is old. Old books, old times, old manners. One of the few enviable advantages of being British lies not only in how we have managed to preserve old things, but in how we continue to delight in them. We don’t simply store the past; we keep it in circulation, like a favourite chair, endlessly sat in. Old things come to us already whispering their stories. They carry tattered handling and loved history at their core, stories ready to be un-boxed, re

“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

On a rainy day last November, the humble baguette was acknowledged and enshrined forever by UNESCO as “a thing of exceptional interest for the common heritage of mankind.”

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

Giorgiana Viou - First woman chef of color to receive a Michelin Star - Nimes, France Georgiana Viou, the self-taught chef born in Benin, has made vital history as the first female chef of colour in France, to earn a coveted Michelin star for her restaurant, Rouge , in Nîmes, South West France. Her cooking blends the sun-kissed freshness of Mediterranean ingredients with the vibrancy and soulful spices of her West African heritage—what she once described simply as, “a mix of

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