Where I Write (not in London this time) #4 Le Bar-sur-Loup, South of France

Welcome to Where I Write (not in London this time), a blog where I take my laptop somewhere new and report back. The coffee (or wine), the atmosphere, the distractions—I'll cover it all. Come along and grab a seat.

#4 Special Edition: Le Bar-sur-Loup, South of France

This one's not London but I've been coming to this corner of the South of France since I was fifteen, and it feels like a second home.

Le Bar-sur-Loup is a tiny village in the Cote D’Azur/Alpes-Maritimes, perched above a valley. It's remote and quiet — the village has two bakeries, a pub, a tabac, a pharmacy, a vet, and two restaurants, and that's about it. Yet it's only thirty minutes from Cannes and Nice, and forty-five minutes from Italy if you fancy lunch across the border and a wander around a seaside market.

I wrote French Summer here, nine years ago. Here's the link if you’d like to read it.

The Setup

I have my own bedroom here, which I painted and redecorated over this trip. But once the brushes were down, I wrote a lot. Ten days of largely uninterrupted writing, limited Wi-Fi, no distractions, and the kind of silence that London simply doesn't offer. Entertainment is limited to a swim, cooking, and playing Scrabble. It's amazing how much you can get on a page when nobody needs anything from you.

The View

Every morning I'd open the shutters to the valley spread out below — green hills, terracotta rooftops in the distance, and the mountains beyond. Across the valley, the medieval village of Gourdon sits perched on a cliff. And every morning, Bambi and his sister would appear. Two young deer who wandered up to the garden while I was having my first coffee. They'd graze for a while, look at me, and carry on.

The Tadpole Incident

My French is terrible and everyone there knows this. But as not many people speak English, I have no choice but to try, and the results are not always what I intend.

The pool had been unused over winter and the water had turned green, with tadpoles swimming around in it. I wanted to catch them and move them to the river before the caretaker came to clean it. When he arrived, I wanted to say, "Please don't kill the tadpoles." What I actually said was, "Please kill the ducklings."

The look on his face. There was so much confusion but we got there in the end. The tadpoles were rescued. No ducklings were harmed.

The Writing Part

I worked on Sloane Archer Gets What She Deserves for most of the trip, and the quiet, the warmth, the complete lack of things to do other than write made the words come really fast. I think I did some of my best writing on this trip, and Sloane Archer is now with my editor. I can't wait for you to read this one. It's currently on pre-order here, with release on June 12th.

Nearby

If you ever find yourself in this part of France, the surrounding area is worth exploring. Valbonne is a beautiful old village with a square that feels like it hasn't changed in centuries. Tourrettes-sur-Loup is known for its violets, its breathtaking views, and its narrow stone streets. Closer to the Italian border, Antibes has a stunning old town and a market that will ruin every other market for you, and Èze is a medieval village with endless views over the coastline.

Practical Notes

If you're a writer looking for somewhere to disappear and get serious work done, find yourself a quiet corner of the South of France with bad Wi-Fi. No distractions!  Bring a notebook for when the laptop runs out of battery, lots of sunscreen, and enough basic French to avoid accidentally requesting the death of baby animals.

Next time, we're back in London.