The French Riviera

TO ALL

OK, so I’ve heard that I’m straining the limits of friendship with the length of my travelogues. I think I’ve waited long enough to write this travelogue that only the highlights remain in my brain. So hopefully it will be short – relatively speaking. (Actually, I waited to write this because I was burned out on editing pictures but, oh well, it makes a good story anyway.)

On President’s weekend – way back in February – we took Ryanair to Marseille, France, rented a car and explored the French Riviera. No we did not get into the ocean. And no, we did not see any nude bathers. Thank-you very much. The weather was balmy – but not balmy enough for swimming. Actually, the weather was slightly disappointing. The first full day we were there it was sunny, but hazy – comfortable to the skin, but annoying to the camera lens. The second day it actually rained – can you believe that? It rained on the French Riviera. That’s completely against the rules. Southern France is a lot like Southern Arizona – dry . . . mountainous . . . . . dry . . . .lots of cactus . . . . . dry . . . . dry . . . . dry. You know, we lived in southern Arizona for 4 years and I really liked it . . . but, come to think of it, I remember missing the ocean. Hummmmmmm. I could be happy living on the French Riviera – if I was independently wealthy and willing to learn French and hang out with French people. Oh, well, it was a nice thought anyway.

Back to the weather -- in case you haven’t been paying attention to the weather outside the US, we had a VERY mild winter in Europe. Ski resorts are loosing money big time. Some never opened for the season. (More about skiing later!) Anyway . . . . the trees were budding out in southern France . . . in the middle of February!!! In fact it was common to see a tree budded out right next to a tree with dead leaves from the year before still hanging from it. How does that happen?

We arrived in Marseille on Friday afternoon and headed for Antibes (Pronounced aan-TEEB. Remember this is French, so the last couple of letters of most words are wasted ink!) At the recommendation of our neighbors across the hall, we had booked a room in a pension called Hotel La Jabotte (our neighbors spent that same weekend checking out our recommendations in Brugges, Belgium). Antibes is about 2 hours from Marseille. We figured we could blow an hour somewhere along the way and still arrive at Hotel La Jabotte at the agreed upon time. And we figured that if we took our hour earlier rather than later, it might actually be an hour of daylight. As it turned out the autobahn took the hour for us. Somehow, someone, somewhere decided that at a certain point on Autoroute 8, all 18-wheelers should be pulled over to the side of the road until further notice. By the time we arrived on the scene, the right two lanes of the highway had become a giant parking lot and there was only one moving lane of traffic.And, of course, the result was a giant stau (German for traffic jam). For an hour or more we had no idea the cause of the stau. Once we came upon the first parked truck and could see what was happening we checked the odometer and then sailed pass 3 kilometers of parked semi’s. We don’t speak French so we never learned what was up. Since this exerience, I have come upon an even worse stau story from a friend here in Heidelberg. She claims that she sat in a stau in the Netherlands for 6 hours – without moving an inch – and never knew the cause.

Hotel La Jabotte was delightful. The rooms opened onto a courtyard dominated by a yellow mimosa tree in full bloom.

Our room had purple walls with French poetry written on them in a white flowery script. The room was a little small and the shower was the smallest I’ve ever seen (it also didn’t have a curtain which doesn’t go well with being small!) but the ambience made up for the lack of size.

And breakfast was truly scrumptious -- small amounts of various and sundry delicacies served up with lots of style – cheese, yogurt, fruit, pastries, etc, etc. The first morning, among other things, there was a bunch of big purple grapes on our table, which we thoroughly enjoyed. The next morning, in their place, were some hard, knobby-looking, walnut-sized things that Mike informed me were not edible. Fortunately, I didn’t listen to him and bit into one anyway. He was partially right: the outer shell wasn’t edible. But the inside was and it was really good. We learned later that they were lychee. (I thought that was a kind of candy that we brought at Walmart in Hawaii?)

The first day we explored an incredible produce market in Antibes, bought some sausage and cheese for lunch and then headed up the coast. We drove through Nice (as quickly as possible!) and explored the coast from there to Monaco. This is the heart of the French Riviera. Nice and Monaco are linked by three coastal roads – the Low, Middle, and High Cornishes. Rick Steves has a formula worked out for which road to take when for the most exhilarating views, so we followed his advice and were not disappointed. The French Riviera is the Amalfi Coast (Italy) all over again: houses clinging to the edges of cliffs, stairways leading down to the ocean, spectacular views, little harbors and beaches, etc, etc. There are also a few differences: (1) driving the narrow roads is somewhat less tense (at least during the off-season!), (2) it is more populated – no open spaces in between the towns, (3) the climate is a little dryer, and (4) the per capita is definitely higher – and continues to get higher as you approach Monaco. (Notice all the private swimming pools in this first picture!)Before descending into Monaco, we stopped in the little village of La Turbie, home of a Roman monument called La Trophee des Alps build to commemorate Augustus Ceasar's conquest of the Alps. The monument itself wasn't open, but it was fun wandering around the old part of La Turbie and of course the monument is visible from all sorts of vantage points in the area.

In Monaco we parked and explore some on foot. Monaco is actually an independent country – although they are dependent on France for lots of services. Prince Rainier is its reigning monarch – alas, Grace Kelley is no longer at his side. It is the home of a famous casino (the Monte Carlo) and a famous car race (the Grand Prix). Monaco is less than one square mile in size with a population of 30,000 people and more fancy cars than you can shake a sticky at – Rolls Royce, Bentley, Lamborghini, you name it. (Note the "B" for Bentley on the hubcaps below and the little red Smart Car to the left.) Also the yacht harbor in Monaco is a sight to behold – unless of course you find extreme opulence a little sickening.

We limited our caloric intake in Monaco to a dish of ice cream and returned to Antibes for supper. We found a nice little restaurant in the old part of town. Part way through the meal an interesting young couple sat down next to us, observed my Rick Steves book on the table (which meant we spoke English) and initiated a conversation. (In Europe it’s quite acceptable to put two parties of people who don’t know each other at the same table – or at separate tables that are only 6 inches apart, as was the case in this instance). She was from Bern, Switzerland and he was from Australia (Australia, not Austria – read carefully!) and they were quenching their thirst for adventure by working on yachts. Right then the job market was in Antibes – who knows where they might be now as I write this.

The next day we went inland into an area of France that is called the Provence (pronounced proh-VAHNS). The Provence is a mountainous area with lots of picturesque little towns built way . . . way . . . way up on the tops of the hills. We explored several of these little towns and then drove through Gorges du Verdon. I had explored one end of Gorges du Verdon briefly when I was in southern France a year or so ago with Rinnie and Jennifer Lind. Unfortunately, we ran out of time about a third of the way through the canyon and had to turn back to fulfill another commitment. I resolved then to come back. This time, we (Mike and I) approached the canyon from the opposite direction. Again, we frittered away a lot of time exploring all the neat little towns along the approach to the canyon and didn’t have as much time in the canyon as I would have liked to have had. But we did at least get all the way through the canyon before dark. It was definitely scenic (even for someone who has seen the Grand Canyon!) and it was an enjoyable day in spite of the drizzle.

There is more to see along the French Riviera and we definitely need to go back again before we leave Germany. The Riviera is a good wintertime destination (although I would also like to go in September and see the lavender fields in bloom!). It is significantly further south than Heidelberg and hence the winter darkness is somewhat less of an issue. Plus it is typically dry and sunny in the winter – when Heidelberg is rainy and yucky. And Ryanair’s flight schedule and prices lend themselves to a four day weekend trip.

One little architectural detail before I leave the Provence. The French seem to like their roofs in layers. Do they just add a new layer when the old one wears out, or is this their way of adding insulation to keep out the summer heat, or are these just fancy eaves?

The weekend after our trip to the French Riviera, we went skiing in Switzerland. Somehow Mike fell heir to planning and leading a retreat for some chapel group on post. He wasn’t too happy about being a one man show, but at least we got a free ski trip out of the deal! And it was a fun group of people to fellowship with. We went by charter bus to Emmetten, Switzerland and spent two nights in a really nice hotel way up on a hill overlooking Lake Luzern. Alan was able to find his way by train from Zurich to Emmetten and join us for the weekend. On Saturday we skied at a place called Engelberg. I hadn’t been on skis in 15 years, so I was bit nervous about how that would go. Alan started snowboarding last year while he was living in Washington State but he is still somewhat of a novice. Well . . . . maybe not anymore. A few weeks after this event, he spent an entire week skiing at a place in Switzerland called Davos, mostly at Google expense. So probably by now he's a pro! Regardless, on this particular day, he and I were a pretty good match for each other. However, I did have to talk him into the last run of the day, so I think I can honestly say that I out-skied my son! I plan to milk that for all it’s worth, since I’m sure it won’t happen again. Unfortunately, Mike got roped into spending the day with a couple of people who should have either taken a lesson or stayed at the hotel and he didn’t get to do much skiing. The snow was marginal – bad on the lower slopes but decent on some of the upper ones. Alan and I found a run on the top half of the mountain that we really liked and did it over and over and over again. At the end of the day we rode the gondola back down to the bus.

So now it is April. Mike has just returned from a week of Family Life training in Rome, Georgia (Georgia, not Italy – read carefully!) and a week of some other kind of training in Garmish, Germany. While he was gone, I spent some time with a friend in Baltimore, Maryland, and then joined him for the tail end of the event in Garmish.

This weekend is another four day weekend and we are headed for Venice, Italy. We invited Alan to go with us, but he had a better offer. He is in Israel with a couple of friends celebrating Passover. He has assured me that one of the friends grew up in Israel, speaks Hebrew fluently, and is quite savvy about safety issues. That’s nice, but just the same I will be glad when I hear that he is safely back in Zurich!

Amy has been admitted to Huxley College (the Environment Science Department at WWU) and is actually going to start her major this quarter. She is pretty excited. Deanna is still enjoying Cedarville University. She is still officially undecided in terms of a major, but is sort of thinking about declaring pre-physical therapy as her major in spite of all the science classes she’d rather not take!

I am still plodding my way through the book of Philippians with about a dozen die-hard PWOC ladies who want meat not fluff (PTL!). It’s a wonderful study. However, I will not be writing homework from scratch again anytime soon. Thank-you very much. It’s just too much work.

Mike is still surviving his job – he even smiles once in awhile just for practice. His boss of the past 3 years is about to PCS (move, for all you non-military readers). So Mike will be holding down the fort by himself for a couple of months before the new guy arrives in August. Hopefully I can woo him away for a couple of four day weekends between now and then. We can’t quit traveling now that Alan is around to join us.

Nancy