France has a coastline of approximately 7330 kilometres. Much of it is magnificent and many of those kilometres are uninhabited, wild even. I am a sea baby. The old adage that being by the sea does you good, clears your lungs and regenerates your system is, in my opinion, true and the French have elevated…
Apologies for the lack of Newsletter this side of the holidays. I am fiendishly busy. News after the holidays. Here is Samson who some of you will know came to us as a rescue dog in April. See how he has settled and blossomed. Gloriously, I discovered he was born on Christmas Day. He is…
Metz is a city in the northeast of France, Le Grand Est, capital of the Lorraine region, and one that I had never visited before last weekend. It sits alongside the winding Moselle river and is surprisingly inspiring. I was in town because my husband, Michel Noll, was inaugurating a film festival. The festival, titled…
I am two novels along since I published THE FORGOTTEN SUMMER with Penguin in March 2016. For those who read my post last month you will know that my latest novel, THE HOUSE ON THE EDGE OF THE CLIFF, to be published 16th May 2019, is set in Paris during the 1968 student riots, and…
These photos were taken by Bruno Barbey who was a twenty-five-year-old photographer in ’68 and a superb visual chronicler of the events of May 1968. He wrote later, “I went with Cartier-Bresson to buy helmets to protect us from the stones, but with them we couldn’t use our Leicas.’ It is always an exciting moment…
Every now and again I feel fortunate to stand face to face with a remarkable piece of history. Last week, while I was in Paris, I swung off Boulevard Saint-Michel and strode to the Panthéon where hangs a huge photographed image of Simone and Antoine Veil. They are backdropped by the European flag. I stood…
Hello Everyone, If you are lucky enough to find yourself along the Côte d’Azur on Saturday 21st July, PLEASE come along and say hello at the English Book Centre in Valbonne any time between 3.30 and 6.30pm. There will be refreshments and nibbles and plenty of copies of THE FORGOTTEN SUMMER and THE LOST GIRL…
The Kings Arms in Askrigg was the real name of the pub we used as The Drovers Arms in All Creatures Great and Small. I returned there seven years ago when I was writing a feature for the Mail on Sunday. I ordered a glass of red wine and sat alone, deep in reflection. In…
As I write this, planes from everywhere are disgorging bands of women into airports across the Republic who have flown home to Ireland to vote YES to the repeal of the Eighth Amendment. It is a vital vote in Ireland today and by the time you read this, the result will be in. I am…
Dates are on mind as this week as I have celebrated a big birthday. I was hunting about to see what of note in history occurred at around the same time as my birth. Instead, the internet led me to the Republican Calendar. (I am not that old!) I have lived in France for over…
“When I dream of an afterlife in heaven, the action always takes place at the Ritz, Paris.” Ernest Hemingway wrote. I wonder whether he would offer the same opinion today, or perhaps he would consider some of the latest episodes in this new era of the Ritz as definitely worthy of a novel. I am…
In less that two weeks time, 8th March, it will be the publication date for the paperback of THE LOST GIRL. I have already written here on our lovely HG site about the inspiration for the modern half of the story, which is partially set over the weekend of Friday 13th November 2015 when a…
Forgive the brevity of this post. I am up against several deadlines at present and I am very short of time. Again! In these wintery days, there is little that can be more heartening than admiring some of the art that came out of this corner of the Côte d’Azur throughout the twentieth century. Warm…
We are in the South of France at our Olive Farm. The weather is warm, the sun is shining and we are able to work outside on the land until late afternoon. There is no snow. Snow is a very rare event here. I think I have seen flurries of it twice in over thirty…
I am trying to keep away from the computer at present to avoid this most obnoxious, recent invasion to Europe, “Black Friday”. Instead, I have been out on the land, working in the sunshine harvesting our olives. I know that I have written at length in my series of Olive Farm books, particularly the two…
Earlier this year my husband, Michel, was invited to be on the jury of a small documentary film festival. In itself not an unusual request, but this one was to be held on a Greek island. “Excellent, “I said, “I can accompany you. Where is it?” “Castellorizo.” “Where?” The most easterly point of Europe, and…
For those of you who have read THE LOST GIRL, you will know what happens to the young actress, Marguerite, and the consequences of that episode in her young life. Throughout her life because such scars do not disappear. They leave their mark. Here is the true story, my story, upon which I based the…
Although I live but an hour’s drive from Marseille, France’s principle Mediterranean port and second largest city, I do not visit it all that frequently. This month, however, I had the opportunity to spend an entire day there and I decided to dedicate most of that precious time to a first visit to MuCEM. If…
Last night, while I was watering the land, I watched a small flock of ring-necked turtle doves gorging themselves on fruits in the fig tree, which have ripened very early this year. There were other birds feeding off the grapevines. A large toad crossed the driveway and paused to study me with bulging eyes. I…
I am going to begin with an apology. I am on a book tour for my new novel, THE LOST GIRL, running between cities, so please forgive the brevity of this month’s post. I didn’t want to miss it.During this month of July, many in Britain and especially here on this wonderful History Girls website,…