Switching off at Plates Farm hotel, in Gascony, France

I was welcomed to Plates Farm with an ice cold bottle of champagne and a tour from the adopted farm cat, Ceci. With whom I instantly fell in love, to the dismay of my partner, who’d been hoping for a romantic couples’ escape.

Waking up to absolute silence and the smell of coffee brewing from the kitchen down the hall. Eating that extra croissant. Reading my book to the low chatter of the local bugs. Floating around in the saltwater pool. Cuddling Ceci whilst gazing at the (sadly, heatwave scorched) hills. For the first time in months, no reason to do anything at all.

Linen bedsheets and wooden beams

The linen bedsheets were a pleasure to wake up in each morning. I’ve been Googling ‘affordable linen bedding’ ever since. The wooden beams, which we successfully avoided banging our heads on, framed the room, creating an enticing pathway up towards the huge jacuzzi tub.

A few games of pool (or is it snooker) were enjoyed in the shared living space, and I pondered over the wooden backgammon board on the patio, deciding I’d done enough losing for one holiday. Cuddles with Ceci were much more rewarding.

Gazpacho, again

As a tomato lover, I was elated to be served a freshly made glass of gazpacho whilst awaiting our three-course dinner at the hotel. Enjoyed with a glass of local wine and the infectious laughs of our private chef.

Gazpacho was a recurring theme during this trip to France. A small shot was served at the beginning of our meal at Le Bastard in Lectoure, and a brunch centred around a bowlful of gazpacho in Toulouse.

Should they have been in competition, my pick would be Plates. Whilst my partner would make t-shirts and tote bags for the one from Le Bastard.

A meal at the nearby Mr Guss in Nérac had us breaking into tomatoes made from cocoa and soaking bread in an olive oil sourced from the Portuguese grandmother of one of the cooks.

Both of the meals outside of Plates were booked for us by the host Matt.

A glass (or two) of wine

Overshadowed by the neighbouring wines of Bordeaux, the vineyards in Gascony make for the perfect day out. I certainly never skip a chance for a good wine tasting.

Château Arton did not disappoint. The tour came complete with another friendly animal guide, an adorable old dog who made sure we arrived safely at each checkpoint, where he could then pass out in the shade. The whites and rosé were lovely and cold in the heat. But I’m still yet to be converted to Armagnac.

The other cats of Gascony

The streets of the neighbouring villages are lined with elegant limestone buildings, reminiscent of the architecture in Bath. Neat rows of garlic and locally grown melons, sold from trestle tables by the road.

We wandered aimlessly around tiny alleyways, guided by the stone cats of La Romieu, peering over from garden walls and windowsills. They were carved in tribute to a village girl who once hid her cats through a famine, and whose cats went on to save the village.

After a day in the company of stone cats, I was ready to get back to the warm, purring one who’d started this journey. Ceci, no doubt, was asleep on the patio, exactly where we’d left her. And where I expect she still sits, awaiting the future guests of the Plates Farm Hotel.