Bonjour ma petite croissants!

Last week passed by like a dream.

Every morning I wake up to my best friend, The Queen, saying, “Hello Miss, faster wake up or the fat french aunties will finish all the croissants!”

Every breakfast, I will have at least 4 freshly baked butter croissants (mini ones lar!) with locally made banana confit and 3 cups of black coffee while listening to the Queen’s varied tales from the importance of groomed eyebrows to the 1994 genocide in Rwanda.

Every mid-day finds the Queen and I baking in the sun by pristine beaches where handsome blonde surfers with killer bodies play with the large crashing waves.

We will satisfy post-beach hunger with lunches consisting of freshly caught poisson or local creole curry rice finished with ice cream and a tall glass of dodo beer.

Every noon, the Queen and I would be frolicking in the great outdoors - either trekking around a live volcano, climbing rocks, abseiling and sliding down waterfalls or plunging into the open sea. On more subdued days, we explore the small ghetto towns or plough through street markets looking for local bargains.

By sunset, we would be caught in bad traffic on our drive back to the hotel. Stuck in our little Renault Clio 1.2 surrounded by absolutely gorgeous landscape of mountains on our left and the Indian Ocean on our right, we will tune in to bad 80’s music and talk about our glorious past.

Every evening, we will have special candlelight dinners by the pool with lots of food and wine while un-romaticising the ambience for the rest of the diners with our loud bickering and laughing.

Each night, we read thrashy novels, watch nonsensical American dramas on my laptop or just chat quietly until we fall asleep.

And we wake up each morning with a smile thinking about croissants....



* Still reeling and daze in post-holiday blues. Will get down to the nitty (and not so dreamy) details of our trip and photos of Reunion Island in next post!