“We are down here for the weekend. It is suddenly full summer; everything is out; the garden blazing with lilac, apple, pear blossom and every flower you can imagine; and the country is far far far away better than Cassis. Really, the downs are astonishing at this moment. […] But in five years we shall be driven out — there’s no doubt of it […] they say they’re going to build 30 cottages at Asheham. Undoubtedly, this country is doomed; but where to go next, I don’t know. […] Won’t you migrate to a little terrain somewhere between Tarascon and Uzès, which seemed infinitely lovely, and entirely French, and one had asparagus and truffles, which is my favorite food, for about sixpence? That’s my notion of bliss.” - Virginia Woolf to her sister, 1928
