COLLIOURE, France | While growing up I was raised by the sea and during this time I cultivated a close relationship with the ocean. I have smelt her salt in my tangled hair, I have experienced the sensuous feel of sand between my toes and I have eaten from her table.
In Australia, most [ . . . ]
There is something romantic about waking up and finding yourself in a fortified town, located in the South-West of France.
We had rolled around enjoying the delicious crisp sheets of our hotel until we embraced the winding streets that were blanketed with moss. As we walked down the [ . . . ]
When I arrived on French soil I was welcomed with a croissant and a small bouquet of violets, the ‘flower’ of the region. Tearfully, I melted into his embrace while inhaling his scent and nervously kissing his lips.
It had been months since we had seen one another.
Up until this point, [ . . . ]
There is this romanticised notion that travelling is effortless and a time for relaxation.
Those people who have endured a forty-eight hour flight however, would know that this is not always an easy feat. Aeroplane food is highly processed and incredibly high in sugar. Combine that with [ . . . ]
Is there a food you would choose over anything else in the world?
For me it is the traditional French Croissant.
When I first tasted the buttery, flakey pastry I was in culinary heaven. It did however create a couple interesting dilemmas. Firstly, the calories consumed if I ate fifty of [ . . . ]
Sunday is my favourite day of the week!
Not just any Sunday. The kind of Sunday, where you roll around in a mountain-side of cushions and blankets. You indulge in warm, fluffy pancakes served with sticky maple syrup and you wear dishevelled hair with a sheepish grin. They are simply [ . . . ]
For some it is a day of becoming swept away in the moment of mass-produced teddy bears, candy and flowers. For others, it is a day of indifference, and I am one of those people.
Some argue that because I don’t celebrate Valentines Day I’m not a romantic; this couldn’t be [ . . . ]
I have never had a complex with my age. On the contrary, I reflect on my younger self with humour and disbelief at some of my childish antics.
As I rapidly approach 27, this however has changed.
I have stretch marks, the onset of crows feet and alas! I discovered my first grey hair! My [ . . . ]
Some of you have noticed that my blog has been down without any warning. What you don’t know is that I originally closed Moi Petite completely.
In mid 2013 I started my blog (originally called Petite Fromage) to record my ramblings, adventures and my insights. It has been [ . . . ]
Mornings are sacred for me because it defines my mood for the rest of the day.
I have a job that can be emotionally challenging so it is important that I am well balanced and ready to step into the day on the right foot!
My day usually begins with a cup of green tea and a slice of lemon [ . . . ]
Melbourne was once the city I called home. After twenty-four months drifting from one city to another it was wonderful to be back.
While exploring the alleyways and the kooks and crannies, I was overwhelmed with a sense of nostalgia and an emotion I could not quite describe. Enough had [ . . . ]
Twenty, Fourteen drifted to an end while I contemplated the dirty potatoes that lay on the ground in front of me. For some, potatoes lying on the deck in an aligned fashion may seem obscure, for me however it is entirely normal.
You see, I have an obsessive-compulsive boyfriend and [ . . . ]
Her two hands pressed firmly onto the cool stonewall of the cave as he delved deeper into darkness. He stopped and his feet remained planted sternly on the dirt floor. “Come on” she cooed in breathless excitement. “Nobody will ever know…”
The landscape of New Zealand is a kaleidoscope [ . . . ]
Passing through, it wasn’t difficult to become enchanted with the historic mining community of Arrowtown.
Although it was still very much winter, the streets were covered in a surprising splash of colour that I simply had to share!
Ed Sheeran – Give Me Love
In the not so distant horizon a small town lay pocketed beside the rolling mountains.
The sun had set and the orange city lights danced on the contrasting blue water that lay beneath. “Stop! Stop! Stop the car!” she squealed in utter delight. “I can’t stop here!” he exclaimed in [ . . . ]