A Blog-u-mentary
about one family's experience moving from a
tropical Caribbean paradise
to another type of paradise in the
heart of Provence.

Friday, October 29, 2010

Driving Monsieur Chico

Chico awaits his driver, Mike G. (landlord extra-ordinaire and disco king), to tour him around in the classic Citreon Traction.

Mike has taken the Traction all over the place, including a big road trip to Russia. The white stickers above the door show which countries he's visited in the car.

Chico just wants to go to MacDonalds (where he actually did end up later when he visited the Sisters in Montgardin while we hobnobbed in Paris).

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

View from Menerbes

MENERBES -- Ho hum. Another day, another breathtaking village in Provence. In addition to the great views from this hilltop town reaking of Provencal charm, it's also home to the truffle museum. Everything you could want to know about these overpriced non-mushrooms.
One of its other claims to fame is that it was where Peter Mayle lived when he wrote A Year in Provence.
And of course there is a Michelin star restaurant in this tiny burgh.
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Sunday, October 24, 2010

Man overboard?

CASSIS -- Not really. The kids enjoy a boat ride through the calonques of Cassis. A very enjoyable day in the neat little seaside village with the Tanner crew and Deb & Kelsea, too.
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Friday, October 22, 2010

Halloween-ies

Cowgirl Lindsey, Gyspsy Marin, and Savannah Le Sourciere
The girls got to dress up for Halloween at school today - yes, they do celebrate it here in France, but perhaps not with the same vigor as in the US. Nonetheless, oodles of ghouls and goblins appeared at school and the girls made a pretty decent haul of bon bons.

No trick or treating in the neighborhood today - it's actually a week before Halloween since the girls are off on a two week break starting today.

Monday, October 11, 2010

Sunday, October 10, 2010

A bully time in Arles

Savannah, The Gladiator
ARLES - Arles is  pretty cool city about an hour and half from us that's known for its Roman Coliseum and Theatre (or ruins thereof). Actually, the Coliseum, or Arenes d'Arles as it is called, is in pretty good shape and they still use it for events (if the painted seat numbers on the wooden bleachers are any indication - I don't think they had those back in Spartacus' day). It's being restored, too, and it is supposedly one of the best preserved of the Roman-style coliseums in the world.

The big thing in this part of France is the bulls and horses, which roam nearby in the Camargue, a uniquely French version of the Wild West but stunningly beautiful. They raise the bulls here that participate in many of the bull fighting events that happen throughout the south of France, and this is where young kids train to be matadors, too. The area is known for its wild white horses and les gardiens, the French cowboys whose tradition goes back to the 1600s, and who would be equally at home on the plains of Texas.

Sure, they're brave when no bulls are around
We went there with the visiting Greenwoods, and since they live in Barcelona, we wanted to show them we have a lot of old stuff, too. Plus, the bullfighting theme seemed appropriate. Apparently, the style of bullfighting in this part of France does not end with the matador killing the bull (or vice versa), but the removing of a flower that is pinned to the head of the bull, in some kind of bovine mindmeld experience.

We got a late jump on the day and just barely got in before the closing time at the Coliseum. In fact, just as the kids snuck down on to the floor of the arena (which was surprisingly easy), the 'last call' announcement came over the loudspeaker, echoing in a somewhat frightening manner throughout the arena. Of course, we told the kids that they had just announced the bulls were being released, which made them move faster than they had all weekend.

Arles is a deceptively larger city than it first appears, and there looked to to be lots of interesting nooks and crannies to explore. We weaved our way through many of them as we attempted to find the cars in the dark, in a steady rain. I wished we had planned a bit better and spent more time there, and even used it to foray into the nearby Camargue. The cold damp day motivated us to seek more comfortable environs (read: wine by the fireplace)  so I'm willing to give this place another shot to see if it can move up on our Places to See list, especially if there is a bullfight on (in April, they have their own running of the bulls, too, albeit a bit less wild than the Pamplona version).

If all else fails, there's an annual Nude Photography Festival that happens in Arles, too, so that sounds like a decent excuse to go back.

Monday, October 4, 2010

In the wee hours of the French autumn, the Giants win a title

Wake up - the Giants are 2010 NL West Champs
SAN FRANCISCO - The San Francisco Giants, a team for which we still own a third of a season ticket plan despite being many years removed from the Bay Area, won the NL West division title on the last day of the baseball season last night. Actually, it was this morning in France. They'll go on to play the Braves in the first round of the playoffs, with games typically starting at around 3AM local time. I guess we can watch the last few innings of the games over breakfast.

Following one's favorite American sports teams is a bit of challenge here in France. The papers, TV and radios are filled with chatter about OM - Olympique Marseille, which as best as I can figure is pretty close to being "France's Team" along the lines of what the Dallas Cowboys used to be in US. Cycling, rugby, tennis, golf and motor sports are all big here, too. American sports get very little play, and if sports bars were to show anything non-French, it would be mostly UK or other Europeans sports (if in fact there were sports bars here, which there are not).

In these connected days there are, of course, plenty of ways to get the American sports scores and highlights. I've got a bunch of handy apps already loaded on my iPhone to deliver updates. I log on to ESPN.com every day (although curiously the banner ads are in French - yes, Mr. Schmidt, I know your creepy Google knows where I am.). And, you can even watch the games live on the Internet. But there's something about watching a game at 2AM huddled around a computer monitor and a jerky streaming feed that takes a bit of the fun out of it. Alas, I am content with tucking the iPhone under my pillow, harkening back nostalgically to the nights when I would sneak a transistor radio into bed as a kid to listen to the Yaz, Lynn, Fisk and Rice-led Red Sox play their West Coast games, Ned Martin, Ken Coleman and Jim Woods on the call.

Unlike news, which can be served up in dose of headlines and sound bites, sports is something you need to watch live, in real-time to get the full effect - especially during the playoffs.

Home of the Giants
It's been a while since the Giants made the playoffs and even longer still since they went to the World Series (losing to the Angels in 2002, a series whose turning point came when Manager Dusty Baker famously gave starting pitcher Russ Ortiz the game ball when he took him out in the 7th inning of Game 6 leading by 5 runs, only to have the Angels stage a comeback to tie the series and inevitably swing the momentum to win Game 7). Despite already having moved to the islands we actually saw three game in that World Series, and the playoff atmosphere at AT&T Park (then called PacBell) was unbelievable, especially from our seats in the front row (it's even more intense in my hometown Fenway Park when the Sox are in the post season or anytime they are playing the Yankees).

2002 World Series. Yes, those are our seats! (and yes, that's Savannah)
We'll miss being able to watch the Giants in the playoffs this season. Or any team for that matter. No doubt we'll probably lose a bit of sleep trying to experience some of the games as the iPhone chirps out updates from under my pillow.

Sunday, October 3, 2010

I thought I left Club Med back in Turks & Caicos

SALON de PROVENCE -- You wander around a French town long enough and you're bound to see a circus act break out.

Friday, October 1, 2010

Fresh lunch in Cassis

Jean-Marie proudly displays our soon-to-be lunch
CASSIS -- The eyes of Jean-Marie, the chatty owner/chef at Le Bonaparte Restaurant, light up when he learns of our choice to take the fresh fish for four - today a handsome-looking loup (sea bass) that dwarfed its smaller Mediterranean cousins on the fish of the day plate just presented to us. "I must get it right away," he says urgently, perhaps fearing the doomed fish would learn of its fate and attempt to flop its way through the narrow alleys and streets back into the port of Cassis.

We had read about Bonaparte from the trusty Routard (the Marseille edition that Elisabeth had picked up during yesterday's visit to France's second city). It warned of lousy service but excellent food. The recommendation on the food was seconded in a post by my favorite Provencal-blogger-who-also-follows-my-blog (a very competitive category), Sarah in Le Petit Village, so clearly the secret was out. A New York Times article from 1991 featuring Jean-Marie is proudly posted in all of its yellowing glory on the restaurant's wall, confirming the restaurant and the owner as bona fide famous. Jean-Marie humbly admitted he was ranked number one CityVox (kinda like the French version of Trip Advisor) but his joint was anything but touristique (in fact the Routard had suggested it was a favorite among locals, always a  good sign).

After a bit of a search to locate it -Le Bonaparte is off the more populated main walkway along the port and is inconspicous in its appearance and location - we easily found a table amongst a thin mid-week crowd.  The poisson du jour plate filled with silvery fish of various sizes and facial expressions was presented by one of Jean-Marie's guys, and despite yesterday's bouilabaisse gluttony, we chose the full-on fish treatment again (taking Hubert's advice to avoid the smaller, bonier rouget fish). Jean-Marie interrupted the lecture on French wines he was giving us to dash into the kitchen and secure the catch for us, returning in short order to display it himself.

A bottle of a local white wine that Jean-Marie recommended magically appeared, dispelling the Routard's claim of inadequate service - and quickly educating us that Cassis wines rivaled those of its more famous wine producing neighbor, Bandol. We later stopped at the Chatueu de Frontcreuse (another recommendation from Jean-Marie) on our way out of town where Toni grabbed a pair of local rose's.

The fresh came, neatly chopped and served simply in olive oil and butter, accompanied by a fresh veggy-laden ratatouille. Jean-Marie took special care to make sure Toni got one set of the coveted cheeks. Suffice to say we left Le Bonaparte tres satisfied from the fresh seafood lunch (which also included marinated mussels and local oysters), with even more confidence in the Routard (and a tip of the beret to Sarah - me thinks I need only follow in her virtual footsteps to enjoy the best that Provence has to offer). As promised, Jean-Marie was a gracious and entertaining host, and deserved of the high praise that has been reaped upon his establishment

Cassis: Reeking of charm
We thoroughly enjoyed the day trip to Cassis, a quaint little seaside hamlet about 30 clicks east of Marseille and only about 30 minutes and 5 euro's in tolls from our house. It's best known for its colanques, which are easily visited by any number of tour boats that chug in and out of the small harbour (or less easily on one of Isabel's hiking club tours). There also is a fine beach there, and a bit of shopping in the overpriced upscale boutiques, which kept the girls occupied for a while.

If you like scenic seaside villages dripping in local charm and flavor, Cassis is a definite must-see in this part of the world, an opinion shared by greater observers of France than I. With a final acknowledgment to my blogger buddy Sarah, who borrowed them first, consider the words of the great poet (better known now as the man was lent his name to the wind), Frederic Mistral:

"He who has seen Paris and hasn't seen Cassis can say I have seen nothing."