THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 18
Cannes: Life of the rich . . . . . Wednesday, rode with a friend to this seaside city and walked along the promenade. St Raphael also has a promenada, as does Nice, Ventimigilia, Genoa, and Cros De Cagnes, where I resided for a month in 2007.
Let's go back together to Le Cros. This little seaside village was once the village of fishermen. Cagnes sur Mer, nearby city of 40,000 inhabitants nestles alongside Le Cros with it's old hilltop village and final home of Renoir. Guide books 'guide' you to skip Cagnes sur Mer and the nearby 'tacky' seaside village of Le Cros: too many converging roads make accessing city difficult while sights are up ahead or back toward Italy. Well doesn't this sound like a less than $$ place to check out? Perhaps not too touristy either.
Let me tell you about Cros De Cagnes, with it's MOST BEAUTIFUL AND UNCROWDED promenade. There is a colorful local church, fully restored, on the bas corniche. The best boulangerie/patisserie is a few steps away. My friend Josette informed me it was the only place to buy bread. She also walked me to her hairdresser, also the only place to get a haircut. Right on the bread, Josette, but on the haircut. . . . . . .NOT!
Central location on the 60 square meter condo. Small and comfy. Located 50 meters from the train station and about a block from the bus stop, where the TER (local) system takes you anywhere from Nice to Cannes, all for the price of a Coke. Until I visited Florence for 3 nights and met a couple from Placerville, I never spoke English. What I spoke was rudimentary French, and when new friends cared enough to help, it got significantly better. This trip was spent traveling anywhere the notion took me: northern Italy, Florence,Ventimigilia , (where I spent the night in the train station because of a weekly workers' strike) Monaco, Eze, Biot, St Paul de Vence, Gourdon, Grasse, Entreveaux via Le Chemin du Fer. But I learned little
from the local people because I couldn't tap into their more complicated thoughts and feelings.
Fayence: Non central location for the owner's huge home. Two bedrooms, three lavs, covered terrasse with plants everywhere, big screen TV, more electronic gadgets than I know how to work, hi-speed internet, and a big, black, gas stove that terrifies me. Accessbility to touring- OUCH. Charm- mais oui. But first and foremost, friends of my landlady's have reached out to me with sincerity and assistance. Also, I have joined the expat group of British women. With this treasure trove of friendship, information, and guidance, I am learning and discovering more about this area of the Var, northeast of Cannes and St Tropez.
For my last 12 days here, I will rent a small car. Until that time, buses will take me short distances. Feet will work for the hike up to Fayence and the daily walk-abouts.
All in all, each year the monthly stay re-invents itself upon arrival. This year is no exception.
What I will learn and see does not materialize until I am settled in for awhile.
I hope I have been able to explain how each travel experience develops a character of its own.
Today I took a conversational french class. 10 Euros. Such a bargain. My wonderful bottle of Rhone wine costs 2.70 Euros. But, it really isn't cheap here.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 15:
This is my address. Not much of a picture, but I was hoping you wouldn't miss the car, the Smart Car, actually. Bill and I were mesmerized by it years ago during a trip with my Mum to the Dordogne Valley, East of Bordeaux. Imagine two Smart Cars parked side by side, perpendicular to the other cars, occupying ONE spot. Cute. This blue babe belongs to Andrea and Reto, my Swiss neighbors.
My entire day was spent with Sue, my landlady's friend. She lives outside Fayence and drives a British-style Volvo. Imagine: sitting on the driver's side without a steering wheel, verring right around a tight corner, and a car speeding at you. Yep, a new experience.
Sue, from Scotland, has a very provenciale home. In her professionally landscaped garden I saw olive trees, oleander, flax, sego palms, all other palms, lavender, pittosporum, wisteria, gardenias, most things we have in Auburn. Also, Sue had a pool and koi pond, some things some of us do not have in Auburn. Sue retired from American Express, having worked in Edinburgh, New York, Milan and Paris. Just an adorable little Mum in the South of France, raising three adorable children with her French husband, who commutes weekly to Paris.
TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 16:
Dressed up today. Clean tan slacks and blouse. Had a date at 10:30 with the Women's Group of the Var, Fayence chapter. Now if you can imagine walking all day, remembering not to smile too much and avoiding eye contact with any couple you pass, your day feels a little sad. Now, you have just stepped onto a terrace full of mostly British ladies, colors ablazin' and laughter surrounding you. Oh those Brits. Gotta love 'em. Irreverent, engaging, chatty and sooooo friendly. I plunked down my 20 Euro immediately to join this group. This vacation will be remembered as "English Spoken Here."
Tomorrow we are off to Cannes. My new friend Christine is shopping for cotton clothes to wear on a trip later this month to Egypt. She is Phillipine and married her French husband while working in McLean, Virginia. Feels like traveling around the world, doesn't it?
Sunday, September 14, 2008
THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 11:
My first full day, committed myself to settling in my home and walking up the hill to the medieval fortified village of Fayence. In spite of its size and the British accents everywhere, the hilltop village has retained the charm of its medieval origins.
First sight of the church!! I entered St Jean de Baptiste, paid for a candle which I lit, and prayed for the safety of my Grandson Justin, in Iraq. I will repeat this ritual at every church I encounter.
I located the tourist office, entered with the mandatory "Bonjour, Madame," (Madmoiselle) and proceeded to ask questions in rusty, rudimentary French. Exiting with the mandatory "Avoir, merci" and her reply "bonne journee" I had two bus schedules and two train schedules:
My adventures begin.
FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 12:
The local bus stop is just a few paces across the street. #31 will take me to St Raphael. One Dramamine and an hour and 20 sweaty minutes later I decent at Gare routiere. This usually means the GARE TERMINAL. Not this time. So I asked the driver, a kindly young woman, which direction to the real 'gare' and of course proceeded in the wrong direction.
A couple miles pass and I enter the humid, sticky gare. Just for kicks, I walk into the room for information and TGV bookings. I sit, pretending to intently read some literature, and COOL DOWN in the air-conditioned room. Aahhh, sweet. Took a couple swigs of my warm water, ate my apple and left.
Now that I had sea legs, I directed them to the Gare routiere, which should've been what I was just leaving. As I happily walked along, since I felt so confident I could find my way easily back, I stopped in a Monoprix, my favorite mid-line department/grocery store. I purchase green, menthol scented tissues and along the way, a white chocolate gelato. Life doesn't get much better than this.
The picture above is my shot across the little inlet where I exited into the waterfront area from Rue Amirl Baux.
Had to remember this in case this Gare was the one I would use to travel afar. There's also a McD's on the corner, which you cannot see from this distance.
Bracing for the beautiful but wicked ride home, I took another Dramamine with warm water. Gosh, c'est chaud. And that doesn't mean cold.
In a few days I will take the bus to Grasse and find the Gare there. I have been informed it's a much easier bus ride.
Tomorrow is Market Day and Christine, a friend of my landlady, will pick me up at 10:00. Don't we love shopping!!!
My first full day, committed myself to settling in my home and walking up the hill to the medieval fortified village of Fayence. In spite of its size and the British accents everywhere, the hilltop village has retained the charm of its medieval origins.
First sight of the church!! I entered St Jean de Baptiste, paid for a candle which I lit, and prayed for the safety of my Grandson Justin, in Iraq. I will repeat this ritual at every church I encounter.
I located the tourist office, entered with the mandatory "Bonjour, Madame," (Madmoiselle) and proceeded to ask questions in rusty, rudimentary French. Exiting with the mandatory "Avoir, merci" and her reply "bonne journee" I had two bus schedules and two train schedules:
My adventures begin.
FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 12:
The local bus stop is just a few paces across the street. #31 will take me to St Raphael. One Dramamine and an hour and 20 sweaty minutes later I decent at Gare routiere. This usually means the GARE TERMINAL. Not this time. So I asked the driver, a kindly young woman, which direction to the real 'gare' and of course proceeded in the wrong direction.
A couple miles pass and I enter the humid, sticky gare. Just for kicks, I walk into the room for information and TGV bookings. I sit, pretending to intently read some literature, and COOL DOWN in the air-conditioned room. Aahhh, sweet. Took a couple swigs of my warm water, ate my apple and left.
Now that I had sea legs, I directed them to the Gare routiere, which should've been what I was just leaving. As I happily walked along, since I felt so confident I could find my way easily back, I stopped in a Monoprix, my favorite mid-line department/grocery store. I purchase green, menthol scented tissues and along the way, a white chocolate gelato. Life doesn't get much better than this.
The picture above is my shot across the little inlet where I exited into the waterfront area from Rue Amirl Baux.
Had to remember this in case this Gare was the one I would use to travel afar. There's also a McD's on the corner, which you cannot see from this distance.
Bracing for the beautiful but wicked ride home, I took another Dramamine with warm water. Gosh, c'est chaud. And that doesn't mean cold.
In a few days I will take the bus to Grasse and find the Gare there. I have been informed it's a much easier bus ride.
Tomorrow is Market Day and Christine, a friend of my landlady, will pick me up at 10:00. Don't we love shopping!!!