I was recently up in Byron having a think week. There were storms, floods, cyclones and blackouts. And so I did a fair bit of thinking. And fretting. It was a challenging week. I’m a control freak. Storms and cyclones get in my way.

But while I fretted, I happened upon some new happenings in Byron and so I’ve been inspired to update my Bryon Guide. Clip ‘n keep it for your next holiday, or pass it to a mate. Below are some of the highlights…

Image via alexfrings.com

If you’re visiting as a group or family, you’ll love this place…

I used to ride and run past this place most days. Byron Bay Beach Houses is on the Lighthouse Road, just opposite the Captain Cook Lookout (where I would park to surf The Pass). I stayed in the Havana house, set back from the road and backing onto rainforest. It’s a languid, beachy, breezy family home with two big loungerooms, with generous couches and generous cushions and lots of light and air, four bedrooms (to sleep 10), a pool, barbeque areas and two decks. You getting the picture? Breezy, big and great for entertaining.

I invited a bunch of friends over for an indoor picnic (yep, the storms, the floods), mostly because I wanted to put the kitchen to use. Which is big. Breezy. Fully stocked with good gear.

Is it a good location? Yep. Possibly the best. You’re across the road from the beach and a ten minute walk into town. The place is generously equipped with beach gear and towels. Arrive. Unpack. Set up the Connect Four and the

This is a wonderful French word. And it’s very Parisienne in nature. Flanerie: to take a wander around a city just to look and smell and absorb.

Photo via Vogue Japan

I’ve JUST today settled on my first apartment. The keys are sitting here on my table. It’s big. For me. The purchase is part of my latest experiment: getting anchored…so that I have a sturdier base from which to flit and fly. Which is what I like doing best.

You might find this odd. My apartment – in stark contrast to where I’ve been the past two years – is in the middle of the most densely populated suburb in Sydney (and, for that matter, Australia). It ain’t no tin shed in the forest!

I’m nervous about being around so much humanity and humming and freneticness and smell. But I feel it’s time for me to get cool with humanity and to be truly in and amongst it. Can’t go over it, can’t go around it, must go through it.

Which brings me to the beauty of flanerie. The French do this on a Saturday afternoon in Paris. They don’t wander around shops and buy shit they don’t need. The French have simple tastes. Excess is deemed vulgar. Instead, they wander the streets, dropping in for a coffee or an aperitif at cafes. Cafes, where the chairs face outwards

A culinary highlight during my time in France recently: eating at Alain Ducasse’s La Bastide de Moustiers restaurant in Moustiers Saint Marie in Provence…not far from the Gorge du Verdon (a mouthful!). I was in the area hiking and mountainbiking with my brother and it felt just plain wrong not to eat there. I was reminded that it was here in the region while scouting MrandMrsSmith …they look after the hotel and restaurant on their site.

Elegance on a plate

Let it be said: the French know how to plant food on a plate perfectly. Somehow it doesn’t come out all pretentious and silly. It’s all for a reason. Just enough fussiness to show a carrot the respect it deserves. Just enough jus or smear or garnish to make a turnip sing. There is no superfluous flourishes, no excess, always just enough and always respect for the process of eating.

This is why the French don’t get fat: they’re not at war with food. They’re at ease with it.

I admire the way the French eat. I really do. But back to Bastides….

I ate nine courses, sitting on a terrace overlooking lavender fields and olive groves with that Provencal light that sends Peter Mayle-ites into spins. I’ll share more pictures of the various courses below. But first to course four: a plate of vegetables. Yes. A plate of vegetables. All picked that morning. Supremely fresh and sweet. They were served before the meat (pork) arrived. Which is a nice idea. Too often vegetables are seen as fodder, to be doused in sauce, mopped up