Porquorelles April 2

Well, while I'm here in the south of France, soaking up the joys of living in a small Provencal village, it occurred to me that I'd better have a look at the Mediterranean Sea before my departure for the north.  A local friend of my hosts suggested a trip to Hyeres and the islands just off the coast, so off I went. 

My first trial was getting there.  Although it is strictly south of Cotignac, just stop at the water, getting anywhere in France can be a bit of an ordeal.  There are more roads that are not on the map than are on the map and the signage is strictly ruled by opinion and who knows who's opinion at that.  At first I'm always in the mood for adventure, but the reality of sharing hairpin turns in mountanous terrain with sixteen wheelers in the on-coming lane, can turn adventure into white knuckles and shot nerves in short order.  Such was my trip south.  Unfortunately most road maps are only in two dimensions, the third dimension being something of a postscript and left to the imagination.  I have to say that I see a lot of what my compatriots who take the autoroute miss along the way and have a richer, more rewarding experience, but I may be saying that to make myself feel better for the most part while I steady my nerves with that second glass of rose.

I arrived in Hyeres and headed for La Tour Fondue where the ferry leaves for Porquorelles, the island which sounded best for my daytrip, a quick 20 minute passenger ferry trip to an island where there are pleasant beaches within reasonable walking distance, a number of services, and very few cars.  My advice to you more organized folks is to check out the ferry schedule.  Even though the ferry is only 20 minutes, it leaves only every 2-3 hours.  I was in for a two hour wait. I had already secured great street parking so decided to spend my time walking about the shoreline and then enjoy a leisurely lunch (something the French really do well) which was later interrupted by a group of Italian tourists who came to share my table about halfway through my meal. 

The day was sunny and a bit chilly, but not bitingly cold.  I had my hat, skarf, and gloves just in case.  The ferry had a lower enclosed area, but I chose the upper more open-air experience.  Arriving in Porquorelles, the name of the town and the name of the island, I acquired a map of the walks around the island and headed off for the beach.  The last ferry would be leaving at 5:30 PM, so I needed to make the most of my time to keep from being stranded until the next day.  Fortunately, once just outside the "commercial" area, the island took on a lazy tropical air that made me think of Cuba.

The walk to the beach was a perfect distance.  The rest of the way was only other walkers, bicyclists, and a few strangely hybrid golf carts, specially permitted for use on the island.  I was surprised at the number of people carrying on animated conversations on their cell phones in this island paradise; perhaps there should be a special permit for those too.

The beach was covered in a thick layer of palm tree debris which cushioned each step but left you feeling like you might just sink further at some point. However, that did not happen and the day warmed up.  A few people were brave enough to get into the amazingly clear water.

On the way back, I tried out the lavendar ice cream and tried to find a T-shirt or other souvenir, but locals could use some basic lessons in capitalism, or perhaps they like it that way.  All in all a successful trip to a Mediterranean paradise.

Arles April 1

It's April 1 in France and I learned something today.  In France, the first of April is called "Poisson d'Avril" or rather a person whom you have succeeded in fooling is called "Poisson d'Avril" or "Fish of April".  The origin of the fish part is no longer known, but the tradition goes that a person who can be fooled on April 1st gets a paper or cardboard fish taped to his/her back.  Check it out.

I would only know this since I'm staying with friends in France who have school-age children.  Both children, although attending different schools, came home with the same fish-related tales today.  For the details of the tradition, we relied on the internet since neither child was able to provide more than passing comment.

While "les enfants" were busily making paper fish at school, their mother and I took a trip to Arles just west of Avignon for a look at the Roman ruins.  It is said that the best Roman ruins are in France.  Arles has an almost perfectly intact Roman arena plus a few other less intact artifacts such as a Roman theater and a bath-house.  The arena is still being used regularly for "bull games" and other such entertainment.

Perhaps the best part of the day was lunch in Place du Forum at an outdoor cafe where goat cheese, cafe, and wine featured prominently.

Cotignac March 31

What's the definition of a good kid?  I'd say some people are pretty hard on kids and perhaps find kids irritating in general.  So they might define a good kid as one that doesn't exist or one that makes their existence inobtrusive in the extreme.  Although I'd never call my self a kid-person, I'd say a good kid is one that, while you are riding in the backseat next to them on a winding, narrow road in rural Provence, asks you where that plastic bag is in just enough time for you to find it and bring it up to the good kid's mouth before his breakfast makes a second appearance.  And, mind you, then asks for a tissue to wipe his mouth rather than indiscriminately wiping said mouth on one's good black wool coat.  A good kid saves the day and a trip to the dry cleaners.  It's worth remembering.

Cotignac March 30

Today I moved from the big house into the guest house.  I prepared for the move early in the morning before the children had gone to school, but the actual move did not occur until much later.  I've been staying in Jasper's room which means she has been sleeping in the same room as her brother.  She has been incredibly gracious about this. However, this afternoon when she returned from school, I only had to take one look at her face and I knew that her expectations had not been fulfilled.  My things were still in her room.

Mark left early this morning to take his mother to the airport in Nice.  The rest of us slept restfully until about 8:00 AM which left getting ready for school a bit of a mad dash.  Mark returned about 9:30 AM to a peaceful house and two women reading.  Quincy has been feeling puny, so Mark and I went to the weekly market in town to stock up on cheese, fruit, vegies, and bread.  The clouds were dark and it was beginning to shower a bit by the time we left.  When we returned and were preparing lunch, the  bottom fell out of the clouds and we had a full force gale to contend with.  These old stone houses are marvelous for their stability though.  It poured and thundered and lightening-ed (ok, knock it off) and poured some more.  And we women read and Mark wrote. 

Late in the afternoon, it cleared enough that I took a walk up through the cliffs to the towers and the Chapel of St Martin.  I had just returned when Jasper got home from school and made that face.  My next move was to the guest house.  Thank you, Jasper, for your hospitality.  Please enjoy having your room to yourself again - at least for a day or two.

Cotignac March 29

Is it Monday already?  Yippee! Today was my day to walk little Maddox, age 4, to L'ecole Maternelle.  How sweet is that?  I rose early just to have that privilege.  I've been walking past French schools in Paris and various other French towns, but this was my opportunity to see the inside.  At the playground entrance, the parents were greeted by one of the teachers or teacher's aides with the standard French greeting of two kisses.  Perhaps because I was unknown to the teacher or because I was with Maddox, I was not offered kisses.  However, everyone was nice enough and the whole process from playground entrance to my departure could not have taken more than a couple minutes.  I think I'm going to try it again before I leave and see if I can savor it a bit more.

The next highlight of the day was a trip to a couple of the bakeries in town for bread and an unsuccessful search for almond (or almond/chocolate) croissants.  There were only butter croissants today, but on the shelf just above them were beignets, in apple and nutella!  These were very well received by all and almond croissants were forgotten, at least for the moment.

My walk today took me up to the Notre Dame de Grace, a lovely, if basic, church on a wind-swept hilltop with a view of the surrounding countryside.  It was a relatively warm afternoon so reading as I sat on a bench in the breeze amongst the trees was divine.

Cotignac March 28

Another beautiful day in Provence!  I slept late and was treated to fresh crepes with strawberries for breakfast.  Excitement was in the air regarding the circus that was in town. 

I took off for short walk in the hills above town, a mere 3 kilometers up to the towers above the cliffs.  The walk started at the cemetery and climbed upwards from there.  I could tell fairly early in the walk that 3 kiloometers was a strong under-estimation of the actual length this walk was going to take me.  I had a tendency to meander, starting with going the wrong direction  and ending with a number of do-overs as I tried to find my way back to town.  All in all it was a great walk.  The weather was mild and sunny, I was not tired, hungry, thirsty, or needing a restroom, so all the detours were taken in stride.

My one chore, to buy chevre on the way home, was not accomplished since the stores were all closed by the time I arrived back in town.  Such is Sunday in a small Provencal village.  That they open at all is a miracle!

What might a circus be like in a small village in France?  Well, I had the pleasure of finding out today.  My hostess and I accompanied her two children to Le Cirque in Cotignac this afternoon.  We were able to secure prime seats in the front row of the single ring for a mere twelve euros a head.  The animal acts consisted of a goat, two ponies, two llamas, and a very large snake.  The acrobats were two women, one who could do back dives from up to two meters on to a platform and another who did an aerial act.  There was a juggler (who was also the ring leader and animal trainer) and a clown.  It was great family entertainment - and at the end you could have your photo taken with the ringleader or a llama for no extra charge.  Quelle chance!

Cotignac March 27

Tis spring and I'm in the south of France.  Cotignac is a fine little village just big enough to make you fear that you might get lost, but small enough to allow you to find your way back home.  The house where my friends are staying looks directly out to the cliffs which surround one side of the village.  This shot is taken from the living room window. 

The first walk of the day with Maddox, age 4, took me as far as his school and one of the three boulangeries in town, then quickly back to the house.  The second, and more satisfying walk, with Maddox and his sister Jasper, age 8, was along one side of town to a lovely waterfall where we entertained ourselves playing "save the stick", a game where you throw sticks into the stream, then attempt to retrieve them as they go rushing by in the current.  I had my eyes fixed on Maddox quite certain that he would take a tumble into the cold water, but he's sure-footed and agile.  In the meantime, his sister managed to submerge herself to the waist.  To her credit she didn't complain a bit and we continued the game until we were joined by a group of adults and children and an ill-behaved dog which I was certain would be the "drop to cause the vase to overflow" as far as Maddox was concerned.  Not wanting to return with two wet children, we made our way back home while we were still fifty-percent dry. 

The third walk of the day was to the local grocer with Mark's mother, Kay.  The local grocer is tiny but has a grand assortment of fruits, vegetables, dairy products, and much more.  There was only one large celery which I was needing for a soup I was planning.  I was a bit dismayed at the prospect of having that much celery - I was uncertain how the children felt about this particular vegetable.  When the grocer assured me that I did not need to buy the whole thing, I could simply break-off whatever portion I desired.  Will wonders never cease?