28. ESCAPE TO THE LOIRE

Phoebe Weller of Valhalla’s Goat in Glasgow is whisked away to France, where she has time to contemplate mint, the ageing process and the possibility that not all people are real

She wasn’t with me yesterday when I had a perfect lunch (terrine, baguette, bavette/bearnaise of dreams, no-fuss cheese, conversation surrounding essential condiments, quiet polished limestone streets, blue sky) in Montlouissur-Loire. A consistently classy supplier saw some fractals in my eye a month ago and followed up with an email saying, “we’re taking you to the Loire”. My fellow escapees were excellent and I didn’t soil myself. It was the first time

I’ve flown since 2019 and I was reminded that people actually exist, which is good because I did, last week, have a serious conversation with seemingly real people about the impossibility of 8 billion people existing; maybe there’s only, say, a hundred people or so and a lot of holograms or mirrors, like in The Man with the Golden Gun. Or: as all matter is between a wave and a particle, there’s all those people in existence but maybe we only exist for some of the time, which is why everyone I know’s birthday’s on the same day. All these people farming and typing and striking and waiting and lunching but not at the same time.

Maybe not, because Titi in the bar in Tours (who did a great advert for Pipers Crisps (Best Crisps! in Tours!) for me that I completely failed to film), and the serveuse in Montlouis-sur-Loire (with the perfect, working tiny golden Waitersfriend on her necklace who gave me a cutting of the restaurant spider plant) ... they existed. Moments of pleasure, just enough.

Sorry for the misery chat yesterday, I texted annoying/endearing Aidan. No bother, he later replied, I thought it was really insightful and beautiful advice.

Poor young fool.