What to do when the
north of France has lost some of its romance?
Bring on the south of
France, and particularly the Cote d'Azur, where the vineyards of luscious
grapes that bring rose to the table dip and climb for miles. The view from
anywhere above two stories is simply spectacular--fields of green against a
gorgeous blue sky that doesn't have a match in the Crayola box; it's too
perfect to replicate. Pale yellow and sand-coloured villas dot the landscape,
often clustered in small towns. The scent of lavender just tickles
your senses.
Destination Saint Cyr
sur Mer, holidaying with family-in-law in a lovely villa whose fig trees
provided the perfect canopy for reading a book in the shade during the hottest
hours and whose pool offered the right amount of cooling off. A short walk away
the beach waited for when the day called for a stroll and a swim in the
Mediterranean.
Tim and I didn't do
much--that was the plan having had a wonderful trip to America that was filled
with family and friends but as you would expect not a lot of down time. My plan
was to sleep in, swim in the pool, have the occasional outing, eat well, sleep
in, finish reading my current novel (a terrific story by Barbara Kingsolver
called The Lacuna, which I highly recommend), swim in the sea, eat
well, sleep in--you get the idea. I did want to see a few places
nearby--nothing definite discussed ahead of time, though we'd intended to rent
a car for a few days and see some of the French countryside.
And we did. Cassis,
teeming with people on a Sunday that there wasn't a place to park the small
Yaris anywhere but the very top of the hill that even for me was too far to
head back to centre. A drive from Cassis to La Ciotat along the nine-mile routes des Cretes that I'll admit had me
a bit nervous about looking over the side, where the drops were steep and the
sights breathtaking.
There was also Aix,
where we had a family outing to see the Matisse exhibit and have lunch at an
outdoor brasserie on cours Mirabeau, just down the road from the Cathedral. The
cathedral is a beautiful national monument that has roots back to the fifth
century and is said to have been built on the site of a temple dedicated to
Apollo. And there was a short hop to perhaps the most picturesque of all of our
journeys, La Cardiere, a small town with winding, narrow streets of cobblestone
with quaint shops and a very lovely restaurant, Le Regain, where we had had
dinner.
I think that it was
the first time, perhaps ever, that every meal on holiday was al fresco.
Breakfast was on the porch where the sun hadn't yet arrived, a perfect spot for
morning coffee. Fresh baguettes and croissants were bought each morning by the
person who happened to get up first. Lunches of cold meats and cheeses,
inspired and interesting salads by our hostess, and the occasional bottle of
rose were simply lovely. By dinner time the mozzies were also ready to feast,
yet with the right bit of citronella and those funny green coils (along with a
dab of DEET on the arms and legs) it was positively blissful to be out of doors--grilled
prawns, roast chicken, and even pizza from the local place found its way to the
table. And yes, more rose from Provence, please!
One of my favourite
late afternoon days was sitting in the square of Saint Cyr with the Statute of
Liberty--yes, you read that correctly--standing over us. The sculptor, Frederic
Bartholdi, donated the gilded replica to Saint Cyr. It's hard to find out why,
even on the internet; in one web page I read that it was actually donated by a
local businessman who acquired it from Bartholdi.
The square is perfect
for relaxing with a glass of something (more rose, s’il vous plait) and peoplewatching. There were no American or
British accents around us; this is a decidedly French spot for holidays! I
didn't mind; even though my French is quite poor I can pick out a few words, toss
a few phrases in greeting, and otherwise be quite blissfully unaware of the
conversations around me.
What's not to love?
Very little, though one or two disappointments. The beach near us was not as
pretty as I'd imagined, having had this grand, dreamy idea about the
Mediterranean shores, and nearest our villa it was shingled (aka pebbled) and a
bit rocky to enter and emerge from the sea. There was simply no way to be
elegant about it: every man, woman and child stumbled a bit before diving in or
out! Yet the water was warm and lovely, and the waves just enough to keep the
children happy. Me too.
We did manage to lose
our way a few times, too; signage not being wonderful, "touts
directions" didn't always take us where we wanted to be. It did give us an
opportunity to see the seedier site of Marseilles when our GPS didn't provide
quite what we expected, and I suppose given it was broad daylight and we did
wind up where we needed to in the end, it was only a minor detour. We didn't
spend much time in Marseilles but in the car, and to and from the airport, and
I expect there are things to see that may bring us back there.
I would like to go
back, perhaps be more adventurous the next time when my body and mind need less
repair and when the weather is cooler where traveling around takes
less energy. This taster was a lovely way to be introduced to the south of
France and has whet my appetite to see more . . . who knows, I may unearth my
language tapes and learn a bit more than Je nais parle pas Francais!
A bientot!
