Valbonne

Bonjour Everyone!
Today we especially enjoyed another beautiful breakfast on the sunny terrace of Le Mas Samarcande B&B which is located in the hills above the town of Vallauris. It's not everyday you can look out from your breakfast table and see the snow capped French Alps in the distance. So after savouring the view, as well as the lush greenery all around, we went to our room, packed up, and said 'au revoir' to Pierre and Mireille, the lovely, kind hosts of Le Mas Samarcande.
We decided to drive into the town of Vallauris, and have a little look around, as we had spent very little time there. So first things first, we found a cafe called Cafe Le Temps to enjoy cappuccinos, and plan out the day. We sat for a while talking on occasion, then pausing and getting lost in our own thoughts. When we left the cafe, we still hadn't made any serious plans, besides the fact that we needed to arrive in the village of Valbonne by 4:00 pm. We were pleasantly surprised at how interesting Vallauris actually was. As we walked the Avenue Georges Clemenceau, we discovered there were numerous galleries and interesting little shops with lots of pottery in brilliant colors from the Provençal area.
We stopped in at the Eglise Sainte Anne cathedral for a look around inside. A few steps away from the cathedral was a square called 'Place de la Liberation, Aout 24, 1944'. In the center of the square was a magnificent sculpture of an angel holding a fallen soldier. The dates of 1914-1918 were inscribed into the rock underneath the angel. You can only pause with the greatest of reverence at such a representation of such tragic events in history.
We walked on and past a window which had large pictures of Pablo Picasso posted. Pablo appeared to be getting a hair cut, only it would have had to have been before 1973, since that's the year he died in Mougins, France. He actually lived in this area for 8 years where he did a a large amount of pottery work at a Madoura Pottery. There is also a Musee of Pablo Picasso in Vallauris, but then again, it seems like there are a lot of Picasso museums around.
When we got tired of walking around in stifling heat, we decided it was time to leave and head to Valbonne (which actually means The Good Valley), where Ron had found an apartment to rent for 3 nights. He chose it because it looked very quaint on-line and also because it was situated right off of Place Des Arcades, the main square of the town. We drove into Valbonne, found a parking place after circling around several times. Parking was quite a distance from the square. We walked through town to see if the apartment might be available a little early. We came to the right address, and there was a pleasant lady sitting at a small table across from the apartment. She was very helpful in giving us some tips about the apartment. We typed the code in outside the door, and came into a small room with winding stairs. The key to the apartment was in a drawer by the stairs. We went up and opened the door, and were so pleasantly surprised by what we saw. The apartment was accurately represented on-line, and we weren't disappointed. The walls were all white. The furniture was white. There were large, colorful prints on the walls. If you walked across the room, you could push open the shutters and look down onto the town square called Place Des Arcades. There was a round glass-top kitchen table with four wrought iron chairs. On the other side of the room, you could step down two stairs, and find yourself in the lovely little bedroom. Everything was very clean, and we felt happy to have our own "little home" for a few days.
We found the apartment quite cool and restful, and neither of us felt much like walking around in the hot sun, and felt even less like driving anywhere to sight-see. So we went across the square to a small store, filled with fresh fruits and vegetables and picked up a few things to take back to the apartment. We decided to 'chill' for awhile.
For dinner this evening, we walked across the square to an outdoor restaurant called Auberge Provençal. I had Niçoise salad, pronounced 'Niswaz'. This is a mixed salad of tomatoes and green beans and is topped with seared tuna and anchovies. It is usually on a bed of lettuce and hard-boiled eggs and nicoise olives are usual accompaniments. Ron had bouillabaisse soup. For dessert, we shared a rich lemon tart.
I should say that while we ate dinner, we commented on how different life is here. There were many people starting to trickle in to find a table. We noticed several couples, but also lots of families. Children were running around and darting here and there. There were even a few dogs, the biggest cat I've ever seen, and birds flitting overhead. Of course a scooter would weave between the restaurants on the square every now and then. We noticed that people don't seem to consider these things as interruptions. They don't view a child crashing around as an imposition. They just take it all in stride. This is the way it is here, and it's like a life lesson for us.
After dinner we walked the short distance across the square and up to our first floor apartment. We opened the shutters and looked across the square where we had dined just moments ago. Church bells just rang eleven dongs. The people below are quite loud, and you can hear gales of laughter burst out every now and then. Now the crowd seems to be dispersing a bit from the tables and the staff are wearily beginning to clear tables and dismantle umbrellas to prepare for the large market which is to be set up in the morning. We were told that we may have trouble getting out our door tomorrow and onto the square. Apparently the same guy sets up his table every week in the same place, and somehow forgets he might be blocking a door...

Antibes

Bonsoir Everyone!
I should start by saying we are loving our time in the Cote d'Azur. I could not recommend a more beautiful, restful place. It can be just whatever you'd like it to be. You can be busy seeing the amazing coastline and all the spectacular towns, or you can be relaxing by water nearly anywhere or, if you love shopping, it has the best of everything. I know all that sounds like an ad, but really every word is true!
The Côte d'Azur is commonly known as The French Riviera. The Mediterranean coastline has no official boundary, but it is usually considered to extend from the Italian border in the east to Saint-Tropez, Hyères, Toulon or Cassis in the west. The sovereign state of Monaco is included.
This coastline was one of the first modern resort areas. The British upper class started using it as a health resort at the end of the 18th century. Eventually it became the playground and vacation spot of British, Russian, and other aristocrats, such as Queen Victoria and King Edward VII, when he was Prince of Wales. The Cote has been frequented by artists and writers, including Pablo Picasso, Henri Matisse, Somerset Maugham as well as wealthy Americans and Europeans. Some Impressionist painters such as Claude Monet painted the old city of Antibes.
Included in the Cote D'Azur is Antibes, which Ron and I spent the day visiting today. The first time I saw Antibes was two years ago, when we came and stayed in a bed and breakfast. I did enjoy it, but I remember being overwhelmed by how crowded and busy it was everywhere. Today, I didn't feel that way at all. Somehow, I could look past all that and enjoy the beauty of this place and appreciate the little streets and interesting shops which are just the norm in this part of the world.
Every morning, Antibes has a fascinating market on the Rue Auberon. The first thing that stops you in your tracks is the vast array of different kinds of olives. Then, if you move your eyes over a little, you see sun dried tomatoes, artichokess, three different kinds of tapenade, various dips, and so on. Everyone takes pictures while standing in the line to buy things.
I heard a young person ask the vendor "Can I try some samples?" To which the vendor loudly responded,"Eat? No! You eat after you buy! If you eat now, I lose my mind!"
We walked all around the market to look at the various selections. We decided to have a little picnic for our lunch, so we bought small amounts of the following: olives, cheese, anchovies, bread, small tomatoes, artichokes, and salami. For dessert we bought cherries and grapes. Happy with our purchases, we walked over to a cafe called Brassiere Le Clemenceau for cappuccinos and watched the buzzing activity all around. All our nice fresh food sat in bags at our feet, as we tried to keep it all sheltered from the hot sun.
We left the cafe and decided to take our groceries to the car which was a very long way off. On the way to the car we saw a beautiful, green park with umbrella pines and palm trees and benches. We decided not to take our groceries all the way back to the car after all, but to find a bench in the cool shade and have our picnic. Ron ran across the street to get sparkling water. The best part? You could still look out and see the stunning azure-greenish-blue of the Mediterranean.
Because we ate our lunch in the park, and never even made it to the car, we turned around and walked back into the town in the hot sun. We walked by an old villa, with a plaque on the wall which read the name of Nikos Kazantzaki who once lived here. I said to Ron, "Who's that?" Neither of us knew, but we found out that Nikos is the author of 'Zorba The Greek' as well as 'The Last Temptation of Christ'.
We rounded a corner again and saw another plaque on a villa with the name of Bernard Lecache on it. Neither one of us knew who Bernard was either. Well it turns out that Bernard was a French journalist, born in Paris, and was the son of Jewish immigrants. In 1927, Bernard founded the League Against Anti-Semitism and was the president of this league until the time of his death in 1968.
We then passed by a shop called Gelato at Maitre Artisan Glacier, and decided to try the deepest, darkest chocolate gelato we could find. We sat outside at a small, pink table on lime green chairs. As we watched the world go by again, a tourist train of some sort drove lazily by down Rue Georges Clemenceau. It reminded me of something I might see at a place which sells pink popcorn.
When we finished the gelato, we carried on, and I happened to see a sign which read "Heidi's English Book Shop." You know how every once in awhile, something really cool happens in your life? Well we couldnt believe our eyes when we saw a sign which read, "Henning Mankell" the author of the Swedish mystery series called "Wallander" was going to be present at 2:30 pm (which was the time we arrived at the bookstore) to do a book signing, as well as talk about his new book, called "A Treacherous Paradise." The sign outside the book shop read "Free Admittance!" Believe it or not, everyone who came in was offered free rose wine or champagne to celebrate this event. It was really exciting to be there, in the small bookstore and listen to this man speak about the character of Wallander. One man asked the writer, "Is Wallander going to die?" The author replied, "if that happened, only the reader would miss Wallander - not the writer!" Markell finished by telling the small audience his favourite quote, "Humans are born with two ears and one tongue! Why is that? Because they should listen more and talk less. Tell that to your local politician!"
After this delightful and unexpected event, we decided we had to leave Antibes if we still cared about going to Nice in the evening. We walked down Rue Aubernon, then Rue de la Pompe and turned on to Rue du Haut Castelet past the ancient fortress. We looked out to the sea, and said we were glad that we decided to spend the day here. On the way to the car, we past groups of people playing a game which we have observed often in France. It's called Boules, or may be called Pétanque (in Italy, the same game is called Bocce). The object is to throw heavy balls, each weighing over 650 grams, as close as possible to a small target ball.
So eventually we found our car and went back to our B&B. When we got there, Pierre made us tea. After tea, we got ready and were walking to our car, when Pierre called to us and said, "Where are you going?" We told him "to Nice!" He said, "Now?" We said we were going to dinner there. He asked, "Where?" We said we weren't sure. He vigorously protested the trip to Nice saying it would be at least 40 minutes, and then there would be parking. He recommended a restaurant in the opposite direction near Cannes which "has lots of fish, and very good cooking, and is only maximum 30 minutes!" Pierre gave us the name of the restaurant and the directions. Since Pierre carefully reasoned everything out, we agreed to go where he suggested - until we drove out of the parking lot. We decided we didn't really care to drive in the direction of Cannes and decided to return to Antibes for dinner.
So that journey took about twenty minutes and we headed straight to a restaurant we knew we liked called Le Brulot. It is a cool one, because you walk in, go down a winding staircase into well lit caverns. There were many tables, all with pale pink tablecloths and pink napkins. I had salad nicoise, Ron had Tagliatelle Bolognese and for dessert we shared a creme brûlée. All delicious.
We had a really nice time, celebrating our last evening here in this area, as tomorrow we move to an apartment in Valbonne. We left the restaurant at 9:30 pm, walked out into the cool evening, along the sea wall, past the Musee Picasso Antibes. We looked into the powder blue sky over the darker blue Mediterranean - and could see a pure white sail boat glistening off in the distance...

Cannes and The French Riviera

Bonjour everyone!
Today we decided to drive the French Riviera southwest towards Marseille. We started out by driving to Cannes and stopping at a Boulangerie for our morning cafe and croissant. Cannes (pronounced CAN), has only around 72,000 people. It's famous for the International Film Festival which occurs every May. It is a city in which there is tremendous wealth. If you drive along the main road that runs by the water, you see endless rows of condos which look out to the mediterranean. You will also see Yacht stores, real estate places, Limousine service and rentals, Gucci, Louis Vuitton, Dior, and I'm only mentioning a few. If you look towards the water, you see boats and yachts. If you want to find Cannes in anyway interesting, you have to turn off the beaten track and soon you'll discover the very old part of Cannes with the cool, narrow streets, tiny shops and cute little restaurants perched just about everywhere. So, after giving Cannes a second chance, we decided it wasn't so bad as we first thought. Don't think anything of the fact that you may drive by a restaurant & lounge that is actually called "Privilge", or that you see a lot of men wearing fuchsia colored sweaters. You know the style when they drape the sweater over their back and the arms of the sweater dangle in the front? Also don't think anything of the fact that scarves are worn year round here, even on a very warm day. For instance, you will see a woman wearing a halter top and then you stare in disbelief when you see there is an actual wool scarf wrapped around her neck. But the strangest? A guy (bare chest) out for a run, wearing white shorts, fancy running shoes, and around his neck, a blue scarf, flapping behind him. It must be difficult to look cool ALL the time...
We drove along very winding roads, and all the while, could see the blue Mediterranean. We stopped again, this time at a tiny beachside cafe called Le Lagon for yet another coffee, and we sat a stones throw from the Sea. It was wonderful sitting there and watching the water and listening to the waves crashing in. On the beach, it is all sand - no rocks. There were boats out in the distance. Strangely, I felt like I was in Mexico at a resort, because beach vendors started to stroll by selling things like beads, sunglasses, large hats and jewellery.
As we drove towards Saint Raphael, we noticed the rock seemed to turn a reddish-orangish color. This area was near Le Trayas. The soil and rocks of the area have a volcanic origin and the red colour comes from a rock called porphyry. When we saw this, we were reminded of the village of Rousillon in the south of France which is characterized by red rock. We stopped to take several pictures of the bizarre red rock formations. Little yellow daisies grew everywhere, as well as a few red poppies here and there, and Queen Anne's Lace. At one point we climbed down to a jagged inlet by the sea.
One thing about driving these winding, little roads, is that you have to stop and take breaks, first because of the stunning beauty, and second, because you get tired of the winding roads, and third; because you hate to pass up a place that sits very high up and overlooks the water.
And such a place was called La Cabane - a rustic, little snack bar that seemed like it belonged on a beach near a lake where I grew up. Only it was a snack bar overlooking the Mediterranean. We shared an omelet and some fries with sparkling water. The waitress brought some bread to the table, which somehow you just didn't want to eat, especially when we noticed birds flying in and landing on the breadboard and then hopping onto the baguettes. When it was time to go, the waitress brought our bill, and simply picked up our basket of uneaten bread, and plopped it on the next table, where a couple had just been seated.
We left, and she smiled and waved...Merci! Au Revoir! Bonne Journee!
So, we made it all the way to Saint Raphael. We looked around here and went for a walk. We were near the harbour and Ron took pictures of some of the yachts. We decided that we would not go on to St. Tropez, because it was already around 5:00 pm, so we started back to our bed and breakfast. When we arrived, we freshened up and went to dinner at a restaurant recommended to us by Pierre, our host.
The restaurant was called Bijou Plage in San les Pins, near Vallaurus, where we're staying. It was a beautiful place right near the water. Ron had oysters to start, followed by bouillabaisse soup, and I had a fabulous vegetable salad to start, and that was followed by vegetable risotto.
Just a note about bouillabaisse soup. It's a traditional Provençal fish stew originating from the port city of Marseille. There are at least three kinds of fish in a traditional bouillabaisse: typically red rascasse, sea robin and European conger. Vegetables such as leeks, onions, tomatoes, celery and potatoes are simmered together with the broth and served with the fish. The broth is traditionally served with a rouille, a mayonnaise made of olive oil, garlic, saffron and cayenne pepper on grilled slices of bread.
We had tiramisu for dessert, and the palest rose wine I've ever seen. It was delicious food and a memorable evening. While looking out onto the water, we could see five yachts which were clearly visible and one had turned on blue and purple lights which glittered and shone in in the dark...

Antique Market in Nice; Bordighera and Sanremo, Italy

Bonjour Everyone!
Today it was fabulous to wake up, look outside and see bright sunlight bouncing off of everything. You could hear chirping birds, as well as that odd sound that is owned by pigeons. The rooster was busy also, letting everyone know it was time to wake up. It's so exciting to know that you are in a lovely home in Provence, and as soon as you get dressed, you'll be walking across a sunlit patio, to be seated and enjoy a Provençal breakfast.
During breakfast, we talked about what we might do for the day. Mireille reminded us there was an antique market in Nice, and as well suggested driving along "the sea" to Sanremo, Italy. It all sounded amazing. We loved the whole idea and in addition, hoped to make it to at least one art gallery in Nice - either Henri Matisse or Marc Chagall, before driving on to Sanremo.
When we arrived in Nice, we parked and started walking through the streets towards the antique market. Can you imagine going to an antique market in Nice, France? I can just hear some voices saying,"We'll, it's all the same stuff, there or here at home. "To which I would reply, "But it's French".
On our way, a bicycle happened to pass by and stop just ahead of us. There was the biggest basket on the front of the bike which read 'Boulangerie-Patisserie' and in the basket were large bags full of breads and baguettes. The boy jumped off the bike, and carried a bag into the awaiting cafe. Almost at the market, we passed by a British couple which loudly stated that "Italians always walk on the wrong side of the sidewalk".
The first thing we did when we reached the market, was to stop at Cafe Flore for our espresso and croissants. Then we walked around the enormous market filled with ornaments, art, old dishes, tools, jewellery - anything you could think of. It was very busy, crowded, and the items were very over-priced. I made a whole circle around and then went back and bought an old bracelet. We made another loop and bought an old picture, and happy with our purchases (well I was), we returned to Le Vieux Bistro for lunch, since we had loved it the day before. I had the same nicoise salad, but Ron tried the linguini with shrimp, squid and calamari and loved that. The wait staff were so friendly, helpful, and prompt. We noticed they don't seem to yell across the restaurant to each other, or shout to a friend out on the street who happens to be passing by. The only thing that we didn't care for? The Côte d'Azur garbage truck squeezed through the narrow street right past our table once again.
Another thing we'ved noticed? There are none of the brown people constantly throwing squishy toys in the air and letting them splat on the ground in front of you...hoping that any moment, you'll come to your senses and see just how fantastic this toy really is. We haven't seen one tacky trinket booth anywhere either. Nice is a very beautiful, exotic city. When lunch was over, we decided we would start on our way, rather than take more time to visit a gallery.
So we left Nice, and drove to Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat. The Cap overlooks Villefranche Sur Mer, and as you look out to the blue, sparkling Mediterranean, you see Le Cap Ferrat which is a peninsula with a large hill in the middle of it. On the hill is the Villa Ephrussi de Rothschild, which is a seaside villa and palace.
Because we were mesmerized by the beauty of the water and the sky, we kept stopping at different vantage points to admire the stunning scenery. There was the occasional cruise ship out in the distance, and dozens of white sail boats.
Continuing on, we could see the ancient ruins of the village of Eze way up high...
Driving down Prince Rainier II Avenue, is how you come into the Principality of Monaco on the French Riviera. Driving through, you can't help but admire all the beautiful homes, and the beautiful people wearing the beautiful clothes. Monaco has the highest number of millionaires and billionaires in the world.
If you do happen to pass through Monaco, you can't help but think of Grace Kelly who married Prince Ranier of Monaco. Imagine being a movie star AND a princess in your lifetime, but in the end, meeting with such tragedy.
As our car, (a small Renault Clio with a large, green Europcar sticker on the back window) didn't really fit in Monaco, we drove on to another fascinating town called Menton. It reminded us of Antibes - very busy and crowded. There was a beautiful Promenade there called Promenade Soleil, which we strolled down. We both commented on how great it felt not to not have a schedule. At home you always have to hurry somewhere for something. Thinking along these lines caused us to stop at a Cafe called Cafe Du Musee, where we drank sparkling water and shared a Brownie Gourmand topped with pistachio ice cream.
Re-energized, we left Menton and after about seven minutes, found ourselves crossing the border into Italy. No border stop was necessary. Soon we were in the town of Ventimiglia, Italy. On the way in, I saw lots of fixer-upper homes facing onto the Mediterranean, that is if you have about a few million dollars sitting around to purchase a 'fixer-upper!'
The next place, called Bordighera was really the most meaningful for me, because we were able see Casa Coraggio, (Bravery House) the former home of George MacDonald who lived there from 1879 - 1902. George was a famous Christian minister, novelist, and poet who was born in 1824 in Scotland. He and his wife had 12 children and the family relocated to the Italian Riviera in 1877. It's fascinating to think that George became friends with Lewis Carroll, the writer of Alice In Wonderland - and it was George's daughter Mary, who posed as 'Alice' in the illustrations in all the earlier editions of the book.
I started reading a lot of George's books when I was in my twenties and loved his books and the way he could teach lessons about life through his stories.
The funny thing is - last summer when in a bookstore in Penticton, B.C., I bought a print called 'Night And Her Train of Stars' by Edward Hughes. I had always loved Edward Hughes art, and in reading about him, I found out that Edward had been engaged to one of the daughters of George MacDonald. However, she died before they could be married. This is how I discovered that the MacDonald family had moved to Bordighera. It was wonderful to see this place where George had written over half of his massive collection. They say he was enamoured with the soft air of the Riviera. Who wouldn't be?
So we travelled on to the beautiful and wealthy area of Sanremo. It is known as a tourist destination on the Italian Riviera. Very classy and elegant with loads of palm trees and beautiful views of the Mediterranean. We walked along the water, but it had turned quite chilly and windy, so - after a perfect day, we hopped in our car and started our journey back to our B&B in France...

Nice and the Promenade Des Anglais

Bonjour Family and Friends!
We are at a Bed and Breakfast called Le Mas Samarcande in a stunning Provençal home which sits above the town of Vallauris, and is located about 25 minutes west of the city of Nice. The owners of this B&B are Mireille and Pierre Diot. They are the most delightful couple. Here, there is a magnificent, extensive garden full of the beauty of Mediterranean vegetation. When I say Mediterranean vegetation, I mean blooming echeveria, lots of monstrous agave, cacti, umbrella pine trees, palm trees, bougainvillea, little daisies and other plants. Most people who know me, know that I am forever trying to grow succulents and cacti in a place which can drop to -35 in the winter. It just doesn't work. Anyway, when I open up the shutters of our room and look out, I see plants I can only dream about. I can't believe that they grow in such a magnificent way, and with little argument or coaxing. Only one unfortunate thing - someone very close by owns a rooster, and I can't say I care for roosters.
Breakfast was an absolute delight. First, you walk into a stunning room filled with light, then out onto the terrace on which four small tables are individually set, and each setting has antique silverware. I have never been at a B&B where the hosts have taken such meticulous care with the presentation of breakfast. Mireille had fresh baked bread, a chocolate loaf, all kinds of fruit in many different, small dishes, and tiny packets of Boursin cheese. Croissants, rolls, and French toasted bread were brought to each table in a basket with a white, linen cloth. Tiny dishes of yogurt with strawberries were available, and as if that wasn't enough, Mireille brought a small dish of kumquat jam, which she "made from kumquats in my garden". It all makes you want to weep! Everything was so lovely to look at and all presented in a way that is uniquely French. Little white linens lined the baskets and then,"Voila! Bon Appetit!" Ron commented to Mireille how delicious the croissant was. He mentioned the croissants we had tried (over and over again) in Italy. "Oh No, No! No croissant in Italy!" and waggled her finger.
After breakfast, Mireille said "I propose a program to you - I propose you drive into Nice to the Promenade Des Anglais," a 7 km seaside promenade on the Mediterranean, and then "to the market," because as it was Sunday, it would be quieter on the roads. We were happy with her advice and decided to do just that.
We drove into Nice, parked, and resumed our morning habit of finding a cafe right after breakfast. This one was called Balthazar Cafe where we could look out onto the Promenade with the Mediterranean glistening in the sun right behind it. There were billowing clouds of various shades of white and gray over the sea. This city is called Nice la Belle (Nissa La Bella) which means Nice the Beautiful. It's the second largest city of the Provence-Alpes-Cote d'Azur region after Marseilles. It's natural beauty, warm climate, and soft air drew lots of upper class English people in the 18th century who wanted out of England for the winter months - thus the Promenade Des Anglais or Walkway of the English.
As we walked along the Promenade, we commented there is nothing that compares with the beauty of water. People were suntanning on the rocks. No sand, only thousands of multiple sizes of smooth rocks.
We took lots of pictures of the water and clouds. We could see a gray funnel cloud in the distance which appeared to be over Antibes.
As we walked along, we could see the Chateau de Nice, a former medieval fortress built sometime in the 1100's way up high on a hill. We could see people who looked like tiny dots at the top. We looked at each other, and decided it would be a good idea to work off the extra croissant, so we decided to do the climb, especially for the view of the Mediterranean. There is also a beautiful, cascading waterfall at the top.
After such hard work, we decided to walk back down to take in the market that Mireille had suggested, but when we reached the street, to our dismay, we found the market was just closing up and all the streets were being hosed down. All that was left was a few lettuce leaves laying around. By this time it was after 2pm, and we decided it was time for lunch.
We walked around and found a little place called Le Vieux Bistro in the old, historic part of the city. The menu was in French only - no 7 languages here. We started out with olive oil called Nicolas Alziari Huile D'Olive from Nice and Balsamic vinegar from Modena, Italy, served with a few slices of French baguette. This was followed by the most beautiful Niçoise salad. I ate the tuna on top and tried to be brave about the anchovies, but couldn't quite get that far. I ate everything else though, even the yolk of the hard boiled egg, which is going quite far for me. The salad was fresh and delicious. I'm pretty sure if I stayed long enough here, I could be talked into trying just about anything. Lunch was all washed down with sparkling water and a dry Rose.
During lunch Ron had an unfortunate accident with the balsamic vinegar. He was trying so hard not to drop anything on his shirt, but accidentally knocked over the balsamic vinegar, which splashed all over his powder blue shirt. So, he was missing in action for about 20 minutes trying to clean the shirt. Meanwhile, I ate my salad. While I was enjoying myself, the Cote D'Azur garbage truck (smaller than normal for the narrow streets) drove by our row of tables. I could have reached out and touched the truck, it was so close. He stopped about 30 feet from our table, backed up, picked up a load, and suddenly I could hear an immense crashing of bottles into the box on the truck. It's just one of the things you learn not to bat an eye at. If you sit at a table outside, you just never know what may pass by.
After Ron finally showed up again and finished his salad, we walked by a cathedral called Basilique-Cathedrale Sainte-Marie. How can you walk by a cathedral and not stop in? I must say though, that instead of darkness and ghostly silence, there was soft choir music playing, and it made the cathedral feel like a warm place. We continued walking through the narrow streets of the old city, and soon we were caught in an absolute downpour of rain and thunder. We stopped in a jewellery store for shelter. I couldn't believe my luck. We just had to wait it out, and while we waited it out, I looked at all the jewellery. When the rain let up, it was quite chilly and windy, so we decided to drive back to our B&B.
It's evening now, and Ron is upstairs visiting with Mireille and ironing ten of his polyester shirts which got exceptionally wrinkled at the laundromat last evening. I can hear their voices, and it sounds like they're having A fun talk. It's very restful here, but the rooster is making a lot of racket right now and it's 8:30 pm. (Something must have gone haywire in the gene pool).
Ron just returned with his pile of freshly ironed shirts. "What an iron she has!" he exclaimed. "Everything went really well! It's a real professional one with steam and everything..."

Arriverderci Italy...Bonjour France!

Good evening! Bonsoir!
Today is Saturday and we left Venice...so again it is a travel day. We got up, packed and faced the fact that we were leaving with a bit of sadness, because we could have easily enjoyed a few more days. It's a place we'd like to come back to perhaps at Christmas sometime. It's been wonderful in Venice.
After our breakfast outside on the lovely patio, we went for a short walk around the area, just to try to soak in as much as possible once more.
The water taxi picked us up st 9:30 am, just outside the hotel door (canal side)for a 30 minute ride to the airport. What an amazing way to travel! No dragging of luggage through the streets. The driver steps up, takes your luggage, helps you into the boat, and off you go. He drove us down the Grand Canal and out onto the lagoon which is at the north end of the Adriatic Sea. Who would dream you could take a boat to the airport? The weather was warm and the water calm. We travelled within wooden markers and a speed limit is enforced, because I could easily imagine tourists falling off the boat as they tried to take pictures of the Grand Canal!
We arrived at the surprisingly small Venice, Marco Polo Airport. The airport was so crowded and there seemed to be mass confusion. People were worried about missing flights and no one knew what line up they were supposed to be in. You could hear people whispering bitter, nasty comments about the Italians. We found the machine to print our boarding passes and eventually got into the right line to check our baggage in. We waited in line for what seemed like forever. We could see there was quite a hold up by a couple at one of the baggage check points. They were struggling with 2 pieces of luggage which came to a total of 55 kilograms. You are only allowed 23 kilos each, so what were they going to do with an extra 9 kilos? That's like 20 lbs of extra luggage. Their suitcases were wide open and they were shifting around large piles of clothing and whatnot from one place to another. Finally, they stuffed their carry-ons with who knows what, and finally moved on. The line moved speedily after this, and we got our baggage checked. We went through security then to Gate 9 and onto a bus to be transported out to the plane. Soon the bus was full and we were wheeled all of 40 feet to the plane. Everyone laughed. Finally, we boarded our plane (Air France) to Nice (or Nizza, if you are Italian).
We arrived at 1:00 pm in Nice, France. Air France has very nice planes, I must say. We gathered our luggage, and went to pick up our rental car and started on our way to the bed and breakfast called Mas Samarande in Vallauris (on the Cote d' Azur near Cannes). We arrived at around 4:00 pm and met our friendly, French hosts named Mireille and Pierre Diot. We had a tour of the property. I think we found paradise!
We had coffee with our hosts, and then went to our beautiful Provençal room. I was reminded how much I love this part of the world. The colors are so light, and there is such an airy feel to this home and its rooms.
Unfortunately the spell was broken, and we had to break down and go wash a pile of clothing in a teensy laundromat in nearby Golfe-Juan. This just has to happen every now and then. We sat in the dreary laundromat looking at French magazines and sharing a fresh, warm baguette purchased at the Boulangerie right across the street.
Finally, with clean clothes, we went back to our room.
We're looking forward to tomorrow, because Pierre was rubbing his hands together while telling us in a very thick, French accent,"I have lots of plans for you tomorrow!"
I think I'm going to love it here...

The Rialto Bridge and the Evening at Piazza San Marco

Hello Everyone! (Friday)
The first thing you always have to do when you find yourself in a fabulous place in the world, is to appreciate the immediate beauty around you and inhale it as deeply as you can - especially when you first wake up. You have to take time to let beautiful moments and breathtaking scenery work its way into your heart, so you can recall these moments in the dead of night or the dead of winter.
So, after stepping out the patio door on the tiny balcony and looking this way and that up and down the quiet canal, we decided to get ourselves ready early and go to the Rialto Bridge.
I must say it is fascinating walking along in the streets, passing the locals on their way to work and being a part of the city when it's waking up. Everything feels different in Venice. People still have to get somewhere, but there are no cars, buses, or scooters. Here - most of life takes place getting around water, over bridges or boating down the canals. You see the boats putting along with immense cargo loads of construction supplies. The children bounce along with backpacks - students on their way to school. People are already dragging luggage through the streets, banging it up the steps, then bumping it down on the other side. There are mothers carefully maneuvering strollers up steps, and then down, sometimes while holding the hand of another child. It's just all part of life in Venice.
We arrived at the Rialto Bridge, and again found that getting up early makes all the difference in the world, if you'd like to take some photos without being jostled and bumped and perhaps lose your camera in the water.
We left the Bridge and found a Caffe on Strada Nuova. We ordered the usual, croissants and cappuccinos. Two gondoliers wearing dark black pants and black and white striped shirts strolled into the caffe - and at another moment, we thought we saw Moses walk by. When it was time to leave the Caffe, Ron wondered if we should go to the Rialto market. We walked over to the canal where you could have a ride in a real gondola (traghetti taxi) with a real gondolier to paddle you over to the other side (a fast way to get from one side of the Grand Canal to the other). Venetian's stand in these traghetti. Tourists sit. Ronatello (Ron's new name) stood and I sat.
We walked around the old Market which was laden the usual fruits and vegetables, only this time, there were lots of trinket booths thrown in the mix.
Even Shakespeare in "The Merchant of Venice" makes reference to the Rialto market and its merchants.
We left the Market and made our way to the ghetto area, which is something that Roberto from the hotel suggested that we see.
Walking along Fondamenta Dei Ormesini, we finally reached the old Jewish Ghetto on Campo De Gheto Novi. You could see large plaques commemorating the deportation of Jewish people from the city of Venice, one of which read "Men, women, children. Masses for the gas chambers advancing toward horror beneath the whip of the executioner. Your sad Holocaust is engraved in history and nothing shall purge your deaths from our memories, for our memories are your only grave". I always find it interesting visiting places like this, because it truly gives you a picture of what was happening in the world during the Second World War.
We left this area and stopped for lunch at a restaurant recommended by Roberto, called Osteria Anice Stellato along Fondamenta della Sensa. The menu was all in Italian. (No seven languages on this one.
Lunch was wonderful. I tried ravioli farciti - which is ravioli stuffed with ricotta and spinach. Ron had Bucatini di grano (spaghetti with swordfish), I asked Ron if he'd like to taste my ravioli. "No, thanks," because usually Ron doesn't care for ricotta, but then he tried it, and did enjoy it. He said the ricotta tasted much better here. Then he asked, "What is it? Sheep's milk or goat's milk, or what?" I said it was mostly from sheep milk, and please don't talk about it, because if you think about it, the milk of an animal is gross - at which point Ron reminded me that all cheese (which I love) comes from the milk of an animal. "Oh, that's right, I guess," and finished my ravioli.
There was lots of activity up and down this canal which was right beside our table - and as long as you didn't mind the occasional Venetian dog owner allowing Fido to stop, sniff and do dog activities on the nearby wall, you would be fine. You can still see other interesting things motor on by down the canal, like the Venezia Ambulanza or the Venezia Carabinieri (police).
You might even see a gondola go by with a real woman gondolier guiding it at the back, and a lady tourist standing at the front and wobbling around while attempting to paddle and all the while, her boyfriend sitting on his rump in the middle enjoying the view.
We left the restaurant and walked to Chiesa Madonna dell'Orto built in 1365. In this church is the tomb of Jacopo Robusti detto Tintoretto (1519-1594). He was a Venetian painter from the 1500's with a fascinating life story, if anyone happens to be interested...
As we walked back through the streets to the hotel, Ron stopped to admire a pile of red geraniums, which I told him I could easily purchase at Walmart and to please keep going. Finally, I limped into the hotel with aching, puffy feet.
We had a rest and cooled off. Re-energized, we decided we couldn't miss the opportunity to go to the Gallerie dell'Accademia in the Palazzo Grimani to see the works of other Venetian artists from the 1500's. On the way there, Ron looked up and suddenly Moses was back walking in front of us. He then mysteriously rounded a corner and was gone.
Roberto recommended we stroll in the evening to an area where many Venetians like to walk. We sat on a bench facing the Guidecca canal to watch the boats pass by.
As we sat, an elderly couple dressed very nicely slowly walked by. How do elderly people manage here we asked ourselves? We watched this lovely, dignified pair walk towards Ponte (Bridge) Longo. She pushed her walker, he walked beside her, a cane in one hand, and hung onto the walker with the other. Somehow they carefully made each step up with the help of the other all the way to the top, and I hope they didn't tumble down the other side.
We then went for supper (I know it does seem like we eat a lot). We shared the most delicious, fresh salad first. I had pizza marinara, Ron tried pappardelle with duck sauce.
We walked back to Piazza San Marco around 10:00 pm to see the orchestras which play in the Piazza in the evening.
We stopped in front of Il Caffè Florian (The Florian). Many people sat at small tables, having drinks. The waiters wore white tuxedos. We stood and watched the orchestra play.
The Florian caffe opened on December 29, 1720 in Piazza San Marco and is Italy’s oldest Caffe. (Coffee began to be sold as early as 1638 in Venice.) It's fun to walk in and look at the old luxury of the Florian. These days you can buy coffee, teas, chocolates, cookies, porcelains, and design objects in there.
Then we walked across to the other side of the Piazza in front of the Gran Caffè Quadri, another historic caffe that has been around since 1775. There was an orchestra also performing in front of the caffe.
Lastly, a third orchestra performed in front of The Lavena, another historical caffe situated at the foot of the clock tower in Piazza San Marco.
I was saying to Ron, I don't think there is a more exquisite instrument then the violin. And imagine standing in the shadows of the Basilica and the Doges Palace in Piazza San Marco on such a warm evening as the sound of violins filled the air...
Today was a day we ventured to corners of Venice, some parts of which do not appear on the usual tourist map. That's what so intriguing about being here, the unknown side streets and canals which are there, if you care to find them.
The mystery and exquisite beauty of Venice is something that captivates you and you just cannot forget...