Hygge - with a pink twist

Modern medicine saves lives, there can be no argument about that. I am acutely aware that it is the research of the last decade that is prolonging mine at this time, and I am constantly appreciative of the work of Cancer Research UK.

But when we have submitted to the surgery, survived the chemotherapy and radiotherapy and are coping with the side-effects of the latest medical treatments, well, then it is up to us to find the inner reserves, and the will, to continue the fight, n'est-ce pas?

Recently I've become interested in the Danish concept of hygge.
The Danes are, it is said, the happiest nation on the planet and this happiness is attributed, allegedly, to hygge which can be translated/described as creating a warm, cosy world in which to exist and enjoying the simple pleasures of life in the company of good friends.

I've been doing that a great deal during the last year although I am aware that I've probably been living that way for much of my life, sometimes successfully, when I remember to focus on the small things and let go of the irritants, often not when I succumb to stress.

On Good Friday I was in Brittany.
I'd gone for a friend's 70th birthday party and because I'd volunteered to take her sister with me and to accommodate her friend from Cornwall and, well, because I felt in need of my French Tribe and their loving care.

And while there a couple of friends made a date with me, "Friday, Pink Granite, lunch?"
Who could decline such a suggestion?
Pas moi!

Trégastal.
I think I've taken you there before, several times.
It is one of my favourite places to spend a sunny day.

The aquarium was closed until the afternoon, which was fine with us because, lunch, sitting outside, at a table overlooking the beach, and with an interesting party of French school children to watch and wave to ...

An aperitif of Kir and a starter of fish soup that was so delicious I almost purred...  

With this view ...

and then back to this place ...

and these guys and their friends...

and then a walk on the beach to collect a small handful of fine pink granite gravel, some shells and a tiny pink granite rock so that I could make my own beach in a bottle

and then home again.

Via Lannion which brought back so many memories of the two years that I spent in France and made me so nostalgic and so homesick that now I am planning...

But that's for another story.

Excellent medicine, a day at Trégastal.
N'est-ce pas?

Julia xxx