Everyone has something that signals the end of the working day. For me it’s a trawl through the Freeview channels for a couple of hours of ‘property porn’. I like to sit on the sofa, and watch people being shown potential dream properties in hot places while they ooh and aah about how much they get for their money. Himself and myself watch in near silence, except to shout ‘Buy that one!’ occasionally. It’s so soothing. I would love one day to have a big old house – or a little hovel even – in a warmer country with better food. But for both my parents and my cousin the dream is already a reality.

Regular readers may remember that roughly every other year I report on the fete in the tiny French hamlet where my mum and dad live. This year commitments – mainly work and windows based – have kept us here, but a report still exists. My cousins keep a blog about their own efforts to do up a big old place in France, and yesterday I was sent their report on their first trip to the fete. It’s lovely to see how someone else sees it. Especially someone with a good camera. I’ve never seen a picture like this (above) of the village before, but it’s gorgeous.

This year in France it’s been so terribly hot (shame) that the usual first meal of the fete, at lunchtime on a Saturday, was cancelled for fear of fainting into the paella. Cousins were nevertheless delighted by the scope of the eating on offer. “What we have here is a gastronomic marathon starting at 7:30 pm Saturday that continues to 11:00 pm on Sunday.There are breaks to get some sleep and maybe a midnight game of petanque. As normal with french domestic cuisine there were many small courses (served to the plates which each guest brought with them) and, as usual,the same plate is wiped between each course. I did try counting courses but gave up after the third dessert on day one.”

Meanwhile we were in London in jumpers eating a supermarket pizza. Next year! If you too have a passion for French property then please check out my cousin’s blog about their epic do-up of a handsome French home, above. It helps to know, when daydreaming on the sofa, that people I know have actually done it. I try to ignore the fact that both of them are handy as heck with a talent for fixing and upcycling that I don’t.