There were lemons everywhere – they drizzled salads, flavoured risottos, lurked in shot glasses; they decorated kitchen tiles, emblazoned tea towels and dangled from stalls among a blaze of oranges and hot-red chillies. But, best of all, they hung heavy and fragrant in the grove outside my window, citrus lanterns luminescing the green and reminding me that I might just be in some sort of Mediterranean Shangri-La.
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