France days 10 and 11

       You are honored this time with a special edition of trip reports—you get two days for the price of one—partly because your reading of and commenting on these reports is so gratifying to both of us, and partly because the writer is totally exhausted from the pace of this trip and was unable to report further until on a nice big, quiet airplane on the way home.  And as a result of your loyalty, you may enjoy a celebratory plethora of photographs of our last two days in this beautiful country.

       Yesterday had been planned so carefully on our little spreadsheet.  We were simply to spend the day relaxing on the beach, to recover from the 173 places we had visited and the 2 million kilometers we had driven, much of that with a six-speed manual transmission in hilly country with lots of stops.  But at breakfast, one of our B&B hosts graciously suggested a tour of the area, which would include two mountain medieval villages, a beautiful drive through the countryside, a stop in Cannes (even though the famous film festival was not in town), another stop in Antibes to see the harbor and huge yachts, and then a stop on a beautiful beach.  One of us expressed dismay at the prospect of driving several more hours, but after reassurances from our host that we would have a leisurely day, we took a vote, and that person lost.  The male married readers of this journal will have no trouble understanding how this happened.

French countryside from St. Paul

Street in St. Paul

       In any case, by 10:30 or so we were underway, driving a lovely road up to the ancient town of St. Paul de Vence, where we strolled through this wonderful village, former hangout of Picasso, Matisse, and Chagall (the latter of whom is buried here).  The cobblestone narrow streets are lined with art galleries, shops selling fine art, and around 346 souvenir shops.  It was decided, hopefully for the last time on this trip, that just a few more items would complete the shopping necessities, and so we did a good bit more strolling than one member might have wished.

                                            Popular mailbox in St.Paul

 

 Happy tourist in St. Paul de Vence

       We did stroll by one really attractive ice cream store; and although it was just before lunchtime, we took a chance on a scoop of secculoos (a type of shortbread biscuit) and a scoop of nougat, one of Tricia’s favorites.  Apparently this close to Italy, the ice cream is imported, and these scoops were delicious—so much so that the strolling was able to be continued for quite a few more minutes.

 

Gourdon from below

       It was then on the road up to Gourdon, another medieval city, this one perched high atop a mountain, where we explored a much less commercialized old stone village at our leisure.  We also had a nice meal there, at a restaurant adjoining an ice cream store.  For dessert, Tricia had a scoop of the carame beurre sale, and Charlie had the verveine.  Both flavors were exquisite.   Next time you visit France, remember to wait until you are near the border with Italy to try new flavors of ice cream.

 

Street in Gourdon

Mediterranean from Gourdon

       The sights along the roadways were so beautiful and so varied that the time got away from us, and soon we found ourselves driving through Cannes along the seashore.  Around 3:30 in the afternoon we stopped at the yacht basin in Antibes to take a break.

 

Boats and small beach in Antibes

 

Small yacht in Antibes

       We continued along the coast, but hit what is known as the World’s Largest Traffic Fiasco, i.e., driving along the coast of southern France during the tourist season.  We found no time to lie on the beach, as it took more than 3 hours to cover the 25 miles or so back to the hotel.  Weary, we had a pizza and hit the sack by midnight.

 

Rocky beach in Nice

       This brings us to day 11, which brought us a quick tour of the promenade and beach in Nice and parts of the old city, before heading to the airport.  We haven’t said much about this 5th largest city in France, where we have spent the last three nights, and since you are anxious to learn a little about it:  Nice was first settled around 350 B.C. by Greeks who had drifted down from Marseille.  The Romans took over in 154 B.C., and by the 10th century, the Counts of Provence were in charge.  The French didn’t get around to making it part of their country until 1860.  The Lonely Planet guidebook says the light here is magical, quoting Henri Matisse.  But to a simple country boy, the light seems not much different from the light in most other places.  It is a beautiful and historic city, perched along the Mediterranean.  And the beach is populated by scantily clad young beauties trying their best to develop skin cancer.  But the beach is not even a beach—at least not as we know beaches.  Not a grain of sand can be found here; it’s only rounded pebbles, like river rocks.  Bring a couple of thick towels next time you’re here, if you don’t want to feel the lumpy beach.

Nice from the east

       We had separate routes to get back to Jacksonville, Tricia flying direct to Atlanta and then Jacksonville, and Charlie flying Air France to Paris, then to Atlanta, then to Jacksonville.  This sometimes happens when you arrange to fly for free, you know.  Although we are separated and cannot communicate, I can only hope Tricia made her flights.  Charlie’s Delta flight from Paris is more than 2.5 hours late, putting him in Atlanta just before the last flight to JAX at 11:04 p.m.  If you don’t see us for the next few days, we will be quietly sleeping, recovering from the trip of a lifetime—if you know what I mean.

Charlie and Tricia

©2014

France day 9

 Tricia on the beach at St. Tropez

            To overcome the travel fatigue, Tricia and I drove down to St. Tropez and spent the day with the rich and famous on the beach.  We will share a little information—very little—while we soak up the sun.

 

 

Pampellone beach at St. Tropez

            The story of St. Tropez’ name is not a run-of-the-mill tale, but the guidebook says it’s true:  the town was named in 68 A.D.  after a Roman officer named Torpes, whose headless corpse washed up on the beach after he was beheaded in Pisa on orders of Nero.  The corpse was loaded into a boat with a dog and a rooster to consume the remains.  How they knew it was Torpes when the boat drifted ashore, or what happened to his bones, is not reflected in the guidebook.  But the stars who come to party could care less.  The town was pretty laid back until Brigitte Bardot starred in the movie And God Created Woman here.  After that, the fun-seekers poured into town in droves, and the action has never let up since.

Charlie and Tricia

©2014

France day 8

 

Monaco

          The second smallest and most densely populated country in the world contains less than one square mile of area and has a population of more than 35,000. It’s Monaco (can you name the smallest?), a narrow little principality with 4 miles of French Riviera coastline, and it would be even smaller but for having filled in some of Mediterranean to grow by 20% or so.   After a 3-hour drive, we arrived here, whereupon Brian immediately drove the Monaco Grand Prix route.  It took him nearly 10 minutes with the traffic, although I understand others do it much more quickly during the race each year.

Guarding the home of the prince

 

            The Grimaldi family of Prince Albert II has ruled this place almost continuously since 1297, and we can only speculate why France or some other country didn’t swallow it up permanently many years ago.  Maybe they were put off by tiny size of the place.  Perhaps it was the price of land, which as recently as 2011 was $69,700 per square meter, or around $7,000 per square foot if you prefer a smaller lot.  Or maybe the rich, famous, and influential wanted to preserve this tourist and recreation center, where you can plunk down a few 100,000-euro chips at the tables in the Monte Carlo Casino to impress your fellow billionaires.  After all, it stays out of international disputes and is one of the safest places on earth—and besides, how would they run the Monaco Grand Prix each year if there were no Monaco? In any case, it’s loaded with high rollers, big yachts, pricey cars, and the world’s glitterati.   We saw the Bentleys, the Rolls Royces with their capped drivers, and all Ferraris you’d ever want to own—we noticed one of the newer ones had a Russian license plate.  Maybe the same person who owns the biggest yacht in the harbor here.

            After seeing Prince Rainer’s digs and the great casino, we just happened to notice the ice cream shop and, noting how close we are to Italy, it seemed appropriate to take one more chance on the ice cream.  Now, the Italians know ice cream, or gelato, and perhaps some of it had made its way across the border.  We chose an unusual flavor—sesame—and found it to be rich and creamy, with just the right amount of cream and butterfat.  The sesame flavor did not overwhelm, but two members who were able to sneak a very small taste agreed that it was the best of the trip.

 Eze from below

            Then it was on to Eze, a medieval stone village perched atop a 1,500-foot high promontory overlooking the beautiful Mediterranean Sea.  It was a long climb, but this former Phoenician dwelling place provided magnificent views and interesting little cobblestone streets and stone buildings.  Nearly 3,000 people live here today, most of whom seem to own or work in the 2,500 shops lining the streets.  OK, maybe there weren’t 2,500, but there were plenty to take up the rest of the afternoon before we headed for the B&B in Nice.

            After a nice dinner in a nearby restaurant, we sadly began saying our goodbyes to Brian and Natalie, who will leave us here tomorrow morning after pushing us through all of France, from Normandy to the Mediterranean, in 8 days. 
Don’t tell them, but we are totally exhausted, and it’s time to head for the beach.

 Charlie and Tricia

©2014

France day 7

 Aqueduct at Pont du Gard

            After breakfast we drove down to the Pont du Gard, one of France’s most popular tourist attractions.  Built in the first century A.D., it was part of a 31-mile long aqueduct built by the Romans to carry water from a spring to the colony of  Nimes. It is the highest of all Roman aqueduct bridges and one of the best preserved, yet another World Heritage Site.  It’s 160 feet high at this point, and part of a great engineering feat—there is only a 56-foot drop in elevation over the length of the viaducts, a drop of only 1 foot in 3,000, and it is estimated to have carried 44 million gallons of water each day to provide for the citizens of Nimes.  It was used for hundreds of years, but limestone deposits finally clogged it up around the 67^th century.  This was certainly an impressive site, and the scale of the structure cannot be imagined in the photograph alone, unless one tries to see the people in the photo on the roadway that is still used alongside the aqueduct.

 

            Then it was further south, to the city of Arles on the Rhone River, where we encountered yet more monuments and structures from the Roman civilization.  This is another World Heritage Site, and was also the residence of Dutch painter Vincent Van Gogh for a couple of years.  Vincent led an impoverished and disturbed life, although he created more than 300 paintings and drawings here.  During his lifetime he sold only one painting, and had to depend on his brother, an art dealer in Paris, for his sustenance until his death at age 37.  If only your great-grandparents had bought up a hundred or so of his works and stored them for you reveal to the world today . . .

Roman amphitheater in Arles

            The most impressive of the Roman ruins here is the amphitheater, built in 90 A.D. to hold 20,000, and still in use today for occasional bullfights and concerts in summer.  Back then it was used for chariot races and bloody hand-to-hand combat for the spectators’ amusement.  You can decide whether killing bulls these days is more amusing than people killing each other in front of a capacity crowd.  For us, the area was peaceful during our visit, and unfortunately lined with gift shops and souvenirs, which took up much of the afternoon for some members of our group.

            During the shopping spree, against my better judgment I perused the local ice cream stands, determined not to yield to temptation absent extraordinary circumstances.  This area of France is known for its production of lavender, and beautiful fields of it can be seen from the highways.  Noting at one stand the availability of lavender flavored ice cream, it was determined that the extraordinary circumstances were present.  This might be the only chance a person would ever have to try lavender ice cream, so I plunked down the two euros for a single cone of the stuff.  And truthfully, while it was lacking in some of the qualities a true connoisseur expects, it did have the flavor of lavender.  It was an unexpected surprise, and though one would not advise the major ice cream producers to do a large run of this particular flavor, it was the first such treat of the trip.

 The search for good ice cream

            After the long drive back to the B&B, we rested for 20-30 seconds before embarking for another gourmet meal down in Avignon, which began at 8:30 in the evening.  The restaurant Fou de Fa Fa was a true delight, but the dinner and wine had us in bed well after 11.  The days here are much longer than back home, with daylight beginning around 5:30 in the morning and ending near 11 at night.  We seem to have been making good use of all the available daylight on this trip, so will be up early again tomorrow to head for Monaco.

Charlie and Tricia

©2014