An almost-not-quite-deserted, peaceful place to read Proust, without distractions, without irritations. Maybe an out-of-the-way island. Good food, sun with a few rainy days, a beach, an umbrella, some interesting walks (to ponder what one has read), outdoor cafes for the sunny days, and indoor cafes for the rain. Mybe a haunting street musician. A few people to make up stories about. No shopping, no television, only an immersion in Proust and his milieu. How quickly could one finish the book?
Odette, the other one