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years. And so it is, that I find myself declaring with increasing vehemence – that next year when we embark on the bathroom – will be my last renovating push – ever. We will see. I seem to recall that those words have been uttered before. Despite all that ‘ Bon courage ’ implies, nevertheless when working life at home becomes challenging, I console myself with my escape clause – Cuzance. It reverberates in my mind, a place that somehow doesn’t often seem real and yet real it is. Cuzance is indeed a place to return to year after year. A very real and very real different life, even if does hold the oft-repeated phrase ‘ Bon courage ’...

15
Our Belgian Friends
    Time adds a rich layer of meaning to friendships from afar. A chance encounter on the streets in Trabzon, a small town on the Black Sea, twenty years ago, has led to a friendship sustained through letters for many years and now emails. We had noticed Erick and Lydia on the small plane from Istanbul as they were the only other tourists heading to a remote part of Turkey, at quite a dangerous time. It was the first Gulf war and there were bombs being dropped on Iraq. When we stayed in Trabzon, the four of us were the only tourists, so we all teamed up to share our adventures. There was a curfew each night; helicopters constantly hovered overhead and there was a real sense of imminent danger.
    As with many of our friendships, chance seems to play a strong role. We had been booked to go on a ferry to eastern Turkey, but as I was heading back to our flat, after collecting my final pay from my teaching job – paid in cash and given to me in a large brown paper bag, just like real-life Monopoly – I encountered Stuart in our local market, heading home too to our flat in Besikatas. He had been to pick up our ferry tickets but on the eve of departure, we found out quite by chance, that the ferry had been burnt and destroyed. We made a last minute decision to fly instead and so, two new friends entered into our lives.
    There was no way in those early days that I would have ever dreamt of having a house in France. Just a few days into our travels, Stuart spent all his money on a Turkish carpet, while just a few months later, I paid for my own engagement ring. Who would have ever thought too, that I would go from sleeping on a beach alone in Greece for three weeks to save money, to having a petite maison ? We were both backpackers on a shoestring when we met Lydia and Erick. We stayed in rooms that cost only a few dollars a night; rooms that you would rather not glimpse in daylight. From soldiers with guns at checkpoints and in the streets and markets, to châteaux glimpsed as you round a corner on the way to the supermarché from Pied de la Croix. What a long way we’ve come. Life is truly an adventure when you take risks and push the boat out from the safety of shore to sometimes turbulent seas and uncharted territory.
    As with many of our travels over the years, we have met up with people along the way, spent a few days exploring together, traded life stories, and shared meals. Most of these people are just transitory travel companions, bound by the place and time. So it was that after meeting Lydia and Eric, we spent the next week with them exploring eastern Turkey. This has been a special friendship though that has spanned almost two decades. The years have seen us both renovate our many homes and share our unfolding life stories, including that of their two children, Jorn and Eleni. Then finally, after many years, we all met up on our first trip to France.
    It was the time we rented a house for a fortnight and we seized the opportunity to gather our family and friends. There was a little studio at the bottom of the garden, so Liz, our friend from Wales, was booked into that. Stuart’s brother John, was in a nearby gîte , a short bicycle ride away, while Lydia, Erick and the children were able to camp just