Memories of childhood summer holidays are always awakened by the smell of melon, usually a cantaloupe or similar. Fortunately spent mostly in southern France, the added ingredient of sunshine became obligatory.

A couple of picnics had whilst we scouting for properties, found us unwrapping our melon and prosciutto in selected olive groves, next to abandoned and tumbledown houses.

Scrumping took on a new meaning with the beauty of pomegranates in their natural setting, glinting like jewels in the trees, and the availability of delectable, juicy figs  – perfectly ripe at this time of year – and heated by the warmth of the sun…

The prickly pears were less successful and a childhood memory of swift and easy availability forgot the middle-mum!