Here’s a photo (taken by Patrick Huet) of the canal at Beaucaire, and not of the public swimming pool in said town where my friend Eleanor had taken me for the first swim of this holiday. Below our outerwear, we were dressed in bathers ready to commence the shedding of a few pounds but there was bad news: the pool is shut until next Monday. This meant that we were forced to sit somewhere to the right of the photo and eat a most excellent lunch. Further, the wind had died and the temperature had reached the giddy heights of 17C, thus coercing us into dining al fresco. As I say, it was all dreadfully disappointing although I manged to shove down the plat du jour which comprised veal cooked in a cream and garlic sauce with assorted veg alongside a slice of focaccia coated in minced something or other. Shocking.

Wanting to make the most of the late afternoon, but with energy sapping, I visited what is possibly my favourite place in these parts – St Gabriel’s Chapel. I’ve been many times and written quite a lot about it over the years but if you’re new to it, here’s a brief potted history. The chapel was constructed around 1175, but for me, the most important thing is that it was built on the site of an earlier chapel dedicated to St Philippe in the seventh century. And before that, may have been the site of a school for women established by Martha, sister of Lazarus.

Here’s one of the external friezes which shows Archangel Gabriel making his annunciation to Elizabeth, mother of John the Baptist, and to the unsuspecting Mary, who henceforth had some tough explaining to take care of. I once turned up when the local ‘friends of Gabriel’ were holding an information event. Subsequently, they told me I knew more than they did and I should write the guide book. I’m not blowing my own annunciating trumpet – it’s just I have a huge interest in the women (including Martha & Mary Magdalene) who allegedly arrived down on the coast a few miles away.

And here’s the beautiful, and very very old olive grove (hundreds of years) in which the chapel sits. The French have a word – ambience – which they use in a way that doesn’t easily translate. It could mean atmosphere, but it could just as easily be used to describe a social occasion. Anyway, here is ambience.

On the other hand, the medieval (late fourteenth century) towers on the hill behind the chapel are anything but pleasing or atmospheric. In fact, I don’t generally venture up here alone because I don’t like the feel of the place. Unlike below, birdsong is conspicuous by its absence and sitting on a wooden bench, I feel as if I should look behind me for bears or wolves. And what are those?

Here are totally unexpected, but rather pleasing wooden sculptures that someone has placed in the landscape. Once, many years ago, I came here to find hammocks full of olive oil that another artist had strung between the olive trees. The oil shimmered in the sunlight and was quite lovely. I like these guys though.