Brunch of goat’s cheese omelette and… fig jam.
They use it sparingly, like a sea truffle, flavouring pasta and omelets with its earthy flavour. Sandrine’s mother Zezette offers bread for scraping the out the tasty treasure. “Or use your finger. Use your finger!” Di initially turns her nose up and then devours 3 without being asked. (“I had 4 actually!”) It’s an acquired taste but once you are accustomed, very moreish. Jean Christophe offers a bottle of beer and the meal is complete. We chat about the Sorrento coast; Zezette is French but her family originates from Naples. “My Grandmother was Sophia Loren’s best friend…” Sandrine is intrigued by my music as she plays the guitar too. “Spanish and electric…” She loves “Beatles, Stones and The Beatles. British is best, and the best is Bowie. Britain has two Queens no?” We discuss our favourite Bowie albums ‘Hunky Dory’ (me) ‘Aladdin Sane’ (her). I promise to deliver a CD of my music to her campsite in Calvi and we depart, but not before Jean Christophe thrusts three freshly caught fish into my hands. Two are unnamed and ‘tasty’ but he’s proudest of the pink beauty that I recognize as ‘rouget’. Etching an ‘X’ on the rocks we agree to rendez-vous in a year’s time.